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This is my first jump into the Tolkien/Hobbit/LOTR fandom.

Its been a while since I've written anything fun for myself. I recently reread The Hobbit an LOTR books, then proceeded to binge watch the Hobbit, followed by LOTR and then subsequently The Rings of Power. All those feelings I had as a pre teen reading the books and then the even stronger love/hate feels after BOTFA was released have led me to this moment of jumping back into my love of creative writing feet first .

And here we go!

**I Do not own nor claim to own any of J.R.R Tolkien's work or characters.

Reviews are appreciated.

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Chapter 1

*Thorin*

The chest pain was relentless with each inhale. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling the leafy concoction that Gandalf’s pipe gave him. The pain was worth it, eager to ease and numb his beaten body. He couldn’t help but shudder when he finally exhaled, his eyes still closed as he leaned back against the destroyed wall of the rampart behind him. He let the feeling of the smoky substance seep into his weary body.

Gandalf chuckled as he reached to retrieve his pipe that the exhausted and beat up dwarf king offered back to him. “Oin would not be pleased seeing you all out here with me.”

“He can go kiss a troll.” Thorin quipped, his voice deep and slow, eyes still closed.
Gandalf’s mouth twitched humorously as he heard the dwarves to his right snicker at their King’s retort. He felt a nudge against his right arm, “Care to pass that along?” Fili held out his hand, eager for the same reprieve his uncle was currently enjoying.
Gandalf shook his head and chuckled, taking a quick puff of his own pipe before passing it down to the younger dwarf.

“Share brother.” Kili groaned as he adjusted how he sat against the demolished wall.

“Wait your turn. You weren’t stabbed then tossed off a bloody cliff.” Fili ground out before he took a deep inhale from the pipe.

“Attempted stabbing.” Kili corrected, “And I caught you, lest you forget that. Nearly tore my arms from my body. One would think you were a bloody rock troll with how much you weigh.”

Fili rolled his eyes and exhaled deeply, his body slowly relaxing. He grimaced slightly as his back twinged, reminding him of the ugly black bruise that covered the left side of his back. “Oh, he tried all right. The mithril might have saved my skin but my back is screaming at me. I can barely move.”

“Be glad lad, that means yer alive. Thank the Valar we all wore mithril mail before we joined the battle.” Dwalin grunted roughly, still trying to calm the storm of emotion that raged turbulently inside his gut. Only his eyes betrayed him to those who were closest to him, how terrified he had been that he nearly lost his closest companions to their sworn enemy just mere hours before.

Kili was wracked with a coughing fit, not anticipating Gandalf’s pipe to contain a stronger substance he was used to. His eyes started to water as he held out the pipe to the bald, battle-scarred warrior sitting next to him. “Here.” He wheezed. “Don’t be like that.”

“Thank Mahal! There you are! Bilbo and I have been searching everywhere for you!” Balin exclaimed, his exasperation obvious. “You were supposed to be in the infirmary getting seen to. We need to make sure your injuries are cleared. Oin is fit to be tied.”

“He has more pressing injuries to see to.” Thorin growled. “We are fine. We will wait until every other warrior is seen to.”

“Aule preserve me.” Balin grumbled as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “At the very least let someone look you over. I do not want you bleeding out from some unseen wound.”

“My mithril mail prevented any fatal injury. I am just bruised.”

“Internal bleeding is nothing to scoff at.” Balin ground back, his jaws clenched in frustration. “Give your kin this one peace of mind.”

Thorin sighed, only to wince as his ribs protested the movement. “So be it.” He conceded. His cerulean eyes opened slowly, slightly misty from the effects of the wizard’s pipe. “Come boys. let us prove that we are not the dead walking.”

Balin let out a sigh in relief as he watched the king and his nephews get up, stiff and slow. Dwalin got up as well, slower than he normally would have. He would have to make sure his brother took time to be checked by a healer as well.

Lost in his worrisome thoughts, he failed to hear Bilbo approach him. “Oh good, you found them. Are they coming willingly or am I going to have to fetch Dain to drag them in?”

Balin huffed, his humor shallow and fleeting. “They are coming of their own volition. Probably because he is too exhausted to put up a real fight.”

Bilbo’s gaze fell upon Gandalf, who continued to sit against the crumbled rampart and puff on his pipe as he stared out into the battlefield. Those who were able were respectfully moving the bodies of the deceased dwarves, elves and men away from the foul bodies of the orcs and goblins. Despite the cool breeze coming down from the mountain side, the stench of death hung heavy around them. Gandalf knew they narrowly won the battle, and it was sorely won. So many innocent lives cut short, death dealt quickly on swift wings. He also knew this was only the beginning. Despite the victory this day held, the darkness was encroaching upon them. Time was now bought but paid for dearly. He could only hope they would have a reprieve from the evils he knew were ahead.
“Gandalf?”

Bilbo had approached the wizard quietly, concern seemingly a permanent look etched into his face. So much had happened in the past 6 months, how did he ever think this quest wasn’t going to change him?

“Yes Master Baggins?” Gandalf spoke out of the corner of his mouth, the pipe stem still fixed between his lips.

“The quest … Its done is it not? Thorin and his people have claimed their mountain. We have defeated the orcs, Azog is dead at Thorin’s hand…” Bilbo rambled, his hand gesturing dramatically as if personally checking off tasks on a to-do list.

“It is done for today, yes. And perhaps tomorrow, a week, a month or even years from now.”

Bilbo’s eyebrows furrowed. “I feel as if you are insinuating that this peace is not made to last?”

They both sat in silence for a moment, watching Gandalf’s smoke rings drift off to be swept away on the breeze. “Not only is this Thorin’s victory, but all of Middle Earths against the one who seeks to destroy all.” Gandalf paused, carefully considering his words. “This is only the beginning. And now our dear King Under the Mountain is in his rightful place to help keep that evil at bay. He has a long, hard-won path ahead of him.”
Bilbo swallowed the dread that had settled thick against his Adam’s apple. “Then we must make sure he has all the support he needs.”
Gandalf smiled, despite the severity that hung thick around them like a fog. “Yes, Master Baggins. I have no doubts that he will have just that. And more if I’m not mistaken. All in good time.”

******

Erebor had fallen silent as night had settled in. Torches remained lit, casting shadows to dance across the cold stone walls. He walked along quickly and quietly, grateful for the stillness of the late hour. His nightmare was still fresh in his mind’s eye.

He had awoken with a start, something mixed between a shout and sob caught in his throat. His night clothes and blanket had been drenched with the cold sweats that sent tremors through his body. It had felt so real, his body had been heavy and slow, as if trying to move through molasses.

This time, Fili had been run through, the blade bloodied and dripping onto the ice with deafening splotches. He had watched the life leave his beloved nephew’s eyes. He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Silence ringing in his ears as he watched in slow motion, Fili, plummet to the ice flow to shatter into a million pieces as if he had been made of bloodied glass all this time.

Azog’s raspy, evil laugh mocked him as he stood trapped, feet frozen to the bloodied ice flow around him. “Gazat glob (dwarf filth). Izg thrak matum-u latu-uk! (I bring death to you all)

“No! I killed you! I ran you through! I removed your head as you did my grandfathers! You are dead!” He screamed furiously, fighting to free his legs. He went to grab his sword, but it was gone. He looked around him frantically, confused. He never went into battle without his sword!

Azog’s maniacal chuckle was loud in his ears, echoing around him in the ruins of Raven Hill. He looked forward, and his heart stopped. Azog was standing directly in front of him, looking down at him with a sadistic glee in his eyes, his lips curled to reveal sharp, bloody teeth.

“Latu paashnar az-izish, snork glob! Latu paashnar bhadur lab matum! (You cannot kill me, worthless fool! You cannot change your death!)

It was swift, the icy hot pain that flooded his chest. He looked down and saw Azog’s sword buried in his chest. “Mmmmaaaattttt!” (Ddddiiiieeee!) The white orc hissed as he leaned forward, pushing his dual sword arm deeper into his chest…

He fought down the bile that tried to rise into his throat. “No, he’s dead. Fili and Kili are alive. I removed his accursed head from his miserable body.” He gritted through his teeth. He walked past the rooms that held the tainted treasure hoard of his grandfather, without even a passing glance. He needed the night air, a fresh reminder that he was indeed alive and that all was relatively well.

He had fallen under the curse of the dragon sickness, much to his never-ending shame. He had managed to shake it off; he fought against it with all his might. But by then it was too late. He had damaged what little rapport he had had with the people of Esgaroth and Dale. He hoped fervently that Bard would look past this grievous transgression and allow him to make good the promise he had bestowed upon Bard and his people.

Thranduil was an entirely different matter, however. But they had all fought, and they had all lost in equal measure. No one was better or higher than the other. He had to prove that he was better than his grandfather. He was not a greedy, mad king. No! Nor would he ever be! His rule would be different. It had to be. For his people, for his family and friends. But most of all, for himself.

********

Several days later…

Large snowflakes drifted silently onto the battle torn field outside of Erebor and Dale. Both cities were now bustling with sounds of construction, while the camp housing the Elven army of Mirkwood was slowly being taken down and the wounded readied for their slow trek home.

The royal tents were still up, housing Thranduil and his company. The elf king, his son Legolas, and Bard the Dragon Slayer were leaning over the table, discussing possible trade agreements for the future.

A guard entered and bowed swiftly before the table. “My lord, the Dwarf king and his kin are requesting an audience.”

Thranduil’s eyebrow raised slightly, his expression schooled like that of a carved statue. “Very well. Show them in.”

Legolas and Bard glanced at one another in alarm as they took a step back to stand behind Thranduil.

Thorin stepped inside the tent, closely followed by his nephews who flanked him on either side along with Balin and Dwalin who brought up the rear of their small group.

The atmosphere in the tent was thick with tension. The dwarven kings face was stoic, as was his kin. Thranduil noticed immediately that the older dwarf with the snow-white beard and hair had a wooden box clasped securely in his arms and quickly settled his gaze on the dwarf that stood before him.

Thorin swallowed thickly before he averted his eyes and gave a slight bow. “My lords.” He greeted, his voice deep but civil. “I hope all is faring well with you and your men.”

Thranduil barely contained his surprise, while his son and Bard didn’t even try to conceal theirs. “Considering all that has happened; yes. As you have probably guessed we are preparing for our departure.”

Thorin nodded in acknowledgement. “Yes indeed. Thus, my unannounced arrival.” He cleared his throat as he adjusted his stance, squaring his shoulders while clasping his hands behind his back. “It is good that the Dragon slayer is here as well. What I have to say is for both of you.”

The elf king cocked his head slightly to the side, shooting a glance to Bard then back to Thorin, his eyebrow still raised. “Very well.” Was his cool, guarded reply.

Thorin could feel his kin’s eyes on him as he took another moment to still his racing heart and the static that coursed through his veins. He knew this was going to take every ounce of humility he possessed. But it had to be done, not only for his people but for himself. He prayed to Mahal to give him all the strength he could to keep him on this painful path of redemption.

“I thought myself strong enough to withstand the evil that had overtaken my grandfather. And I was wrong.” He had to pause, as if the words physically pained him to speak aloud. “I was too blinded by the past, to what my people lost, to see what I had become. And I stand here before you to make the first steps to fixing what I broke. I was so focused on you failing to come to our aid, to you turning your back on my people, I failed to remember that it was my grandfather, who was lost in his own battle, who struck the first blow in what destroyed the ties to our kingdoms.”
Thorin’s jaw clenched as he motioned with his head for Balin to step forward with the box he was holding. Balin stepped forward to place the box in front of Thranduil.

The Elven king’s eyes widened, not fully believing what he was hearing as he looked at the teak box that had been placed in front of him. Another moment of silence fell in the tent before Thranduil slowly opened the box, to see twinkling against luscious navy velvet, the gems of Lasgalen. “Calathiel.” He trembled as his slender fingers traced the gems before him in reverence.

Thorin watched his once nemesis, guilt churning in his stomach when he heard him whisper his wife’s name brokenly.

“What made you change your mind?” Thranduil’s gaze snapped back up to Thorin questioningly.

“It was wrong for my grandfather to keep them from you.” Thorin’s jaw was still clenched. “Before Smaug came, my father and I were attempting to have them restored to you without his knowledge. The sickness had such a hold on him, he couldn’t see reason. They were never ours to keep in the first place.”

It was Legolas that stepped forward, when it was apparent that Thranduil was at a loss for words. “Thank you.” The sincerity in the elf prince’s voice allowed the dwarves to relax slightly.

Thorin gave the prince a grateful nod, his ice blue eyes softening a fraction. He then turned his attention to Bard. “At your earliest convenience, we can discuss terms in regards what is owed to your people.”

“Yes, of course. That would be most appreciated.” Bard found his voice, shocked that the Dwarven King was so amiable. Bard was a good judge of character and could tell that the king that stood before him now was not the same revenge driven dwarf that he had met back in Lake-town. It all seemed such a long time ago when it had only been a little over a month prior. He wanted to be free of the accursed gem that started this entire mess. He pulled the Arkenstone out slowly and shifted its hefty weight in his hand. As he looked down at its luminous body, he saw the dwarves tense. Bard, without any further hesitation, stepped towards Thorin and held out the gem.

Thorin didn’t hide the surprise in his eyes. “You would give up your leverage?”
Bard shook his head. “There is no need for leverage anymore. I trust you to keep your word.”

He couldn’t pinpoint what the exact emotion was that flashed across the Dwarf Kings face, but whatever it was it was a powerful one that made him appear uncomfortable. He eyed the gem he once held at the highest priority with uncertainty. “Balin. If you could please.” His voice rough with emotion.

Balin quickly stepped forward and let Bard hand him the Arkenstone. He nodded appreciatively and stepped back to stand by his brother as he secured the sacred gem inside his jacket.

“I’ll leave you to conclude your business. Good travels to you.” Thorin inclined his head and bowed slightly again to the Elven King and Prince.

Thranduil looked up finally from his wife’s heirlooms. It was the first time Thorin had seen the king’s icy disposition waver. It was a rarity indeed that he was caught off guard. “No, I Melain na le. (May the Valar be with you.)” Thranduil’s peaceful parting surprised Thorin, it was spoken in the most civil tone he had ever heard the Eleven King speak in. It was a tone of quiet respect.

Uncomfortable, Thorin nodded again and turned quickly to exit. He couldn’t get out of the claustrophobic tent quick enough. He exhaled in relief as soon as the crisp and snowy air hit his face.

“Well… that was…unexpected.” Kili muttered as he looked at his uncle in concern. Fili looked over at his brother and shook his head quickly. “Not the time.” He mouthed.

“Well, that couldn’t have gone any better. Well done, Laddie.” Balin placed a congratulatory hand on Thorin’s shoulder, conscious of his friend’s wounds.

“I must say I didn’t even see that coming.” Gandalf’s voice made the dwarves jump in alarm. “I didn’t even need to instigate that. I feel as if I’m no longer needed here.”

Thorin rolled his eyes as he turned to look the wizard. “I am perfectly capable of handling sensitive diplomatic matters without your pretty words.”

Gandalf smiled, his eyes twinkling happily. “Then I will be leaving Erebor in the most capable hands. Not that I ever doubted you for a moment.”
“You’re leaving already Mr. Gandalf?” Kili asked with his disappointment evident. They all knew that once he left, he would be escorting Bilbo home to the Shire.

“Well, not just yet. We will probably stay for the coronation then leave on our merry way.”

Thorin nodded in understanding, not entirely surprised with his friends travel plans. “I am pleased to hear that you’re staying for the coronation.”

“Oh, Mr. Baggins and I wouldn’t want to miss it. It will be a most glorious occasion. Gives me the perfect opportunity to light off some of my firecrackers.”
Fili and Kili grinned, excited to finally see the ‘wizpoppers’ Bilbo had always described in wondrous detail.

The wizard began walking alongside the dwarves as they made their way back towards Erebor. Fili and Kili were talking excitedly with Balin and Dwalin about the grand parties that had been thrown in Erebor in the days before Smaug. Gandalf looked down at the silent King, who was lost in his own turbulent thoughts. The wizard’s brow furrowed in concern. “Your father would have been very proud of you. Of what you accomplished today with Mirkwood and Dale.”

Thorin grunted in acknowledgment, still looking ahead of him. “If I had just kept my wits at the beginning of all this like I was supposed to, we wouldn’t have to be doing all this groundwork now.” He bit out, his words dripping in self-loathing.

Gandalf shook his head, not surprised that Thorin was battling with these personal demons. “You are not doing yourself or your people any justices by taking on the shortcomings of the ones who came before you. You did the very thing your grandfather couldn’t bring himself to do, you overcame the illness that doomed his reign. In fact, dragon sickness is not something the inflicted walk away from in one piece.”

Thorin ceased walking, his eyes flashing an electric fire. “My grandfather succumbed slowly over centuries of wealth. I was afflicted by the time I stepped on the shores of Lake-town.” He growled. “I was weak.”

Gandalf jabbed his staff into the ground before him and leaned down slightly to look Thorin in his eyes adamantly. “Erebor was permeated by a wicked dragon’s unquenchable greed for over a century. It was by no fault of your own that you were affected. But what matters most is that you fought your way out of its control. There is no recorded instance of someone overcoming it; You are the first to hold that title. And that, Thorin Oakenshield, is something to be proud of. You must remember that we are only shaped by the situations we find the strength to conquer.”

Some of the tension melted from Thorin’s face, and he relaxed his defensive stance.

“You must learn to be kind to yourself. You are just as deserving of leniency than anyone in this world deserving of it. And before you say anything, you DO deserve it.”

Thorin smiled slightly, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. “Thank you, my friend.”

Gandalf grunted, satisfied for the time being that he was heard. “Good. Heed my words and all will be well with you.”

Thorin snorted and shook his head, still smirking. They continued walking, walking side by side in companionable silence for the first time in over year, before the quest to reclaim Erebor was even set into motion.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

*Thorin*

1 year later …

“Besides. I’m not heir apparent, Fili is. Therefore … I’m not held to certain expectations.” Kili singsonged, while fidgeting with one of the daggers he had found in his uncle’s study. Thorin had taken to forging weapons again in his spare time, to rid himself of the compounded stresses of running and rebuilding his kingdom. His many years of perfecting the craft resulting in the most beautiful yet lethal weapons.

Thorin sat there with an exasperating exhaustion upon his face, he could feel the corner of his right eye twitching. “Mahal and an aura.” (Mahal on a cracker) He muttered as he rubbed his face in his hands staring at Kili across the expansive marble table of his forefathers before him. He muttered to himself silently as Kili spoke “you can’t kill him for this added stress he’s brought to your life…not here at least…you’ll stain your grandfathers’ rug.” He muttered as he rubbed his face in his hands.

Kili snickered at his uncles poorly concealed murmurings. “Come on uncle. I know you are fond of her.”

“Fond is a very strong word, Irakdashat. (Nephew)” He growled in exasperation rubbing his hands down his face.

Kili sighed and settled back further into the leather armchair. “Uncle. She is my one. I know it. I feel it! Khie! Armani Adrian sign!” (My one! I’ve been waiting for a long time!) Will you truly see to deny us our happiness?”

“Ne! (Don’t!)” Thorin seethed, slamming his fist down on his desk as he stood up, looking at Kili with unbridled frustration. “That isn’t fair! You know that I must handle this with care. I am not denying you! I am not keeping you from each other! You need to understand that this is not something I can allow without some diplomacy being done first!”

Kili growled with frustration as he stood up abruptly and turned towards the fireplace, still twirling the dagger betwixt his fingers deftly. He glared into the flames. “We have been patient. Our kingdoms are at peace! Why can’t we use our love to unite us further!”

Thorin clenched his jaw, fighting to keep his temper calm. Before he could form a terse reply, the door of his study flew open as Balin and Dwalin quickly stormed in.
“More orcs have been spotted in the fields to the Western boarders of Mirkwood. No more than 20. On foot. No wargs. We are confident they were the ones that attacked the Dale caravan.” Dwalin’s rough brogue was brimming with eagerness of battle.
Balin was the only one of the two that sensed the tense situation they had walked into. He also had a fairly good idea as to what it had been concerning. He exhaled sharply through his nose and raised his eyebrows at Thorin’s perturbed expression. The perfect time to slay some orc filth all the while working out some pent-up frustrations.
“I have a platoon of our finest awaiting your command laddie. I know you have been wanting to get your sword wet with orc blood for a while.” Balin looked at Thorin pointedly.

“Aye.” Dwalin grinned. “It’s been too long since you and I have fought side by side.”
Thorin smirked with gratitude. He grabbed Orcist, sheathed and slung over the back of his chair and strode past his friends with renewed purpose.

“I’m coming with you.” Kili was also eager for an outlet.

Balin scoffed. “You will have to fight your brother for that. Only one of you is permitted to go.”

“He is already at the front gate, in his armor.” Dwalin laughed as they strode quickly towards the armory.

“We shall flip for it then!” Kili fumed. His brother always seemed to be a step ahead of him.

“He isn’t distracted by tall lasses tossing their locks and fluttering their eyes.” Dwalin smirked, as if reading Kili’s thoughts.

“Oi! I am not distracted!” The young prince scowled as his kin laughed loudly.

“Twitterpated is what ye are!” Dwalin grinned. “I like yer tree hugger laddie, but she has ye wrapped around er pretty fingers. Don’t even deny it!”

*************

Thorin quickly fitted himself in his kingly armor of gold and polished steel. He was eager to get out, clear his mind while clearing his lands of the murderous orc gangs that still terrorized their lands.

Kili was grumbling to himself as he kept pace with his uncle, determined to not be left behind.

Thorin brought himself to full height, allowing the armor to settle before he moved and tested his mobility. “We are Sons of Durin. Direct descendants of Durin the Deathless. We can never forget or forsake who we are born to be. No matter what.” Thorin’s deep grumble made Kili stop and look up at him as he strapped Orcist to his side. “You must understand that I am trying to balance both being an uncle, wanting nothing but for your happiness in this life, and that of being King. I must proceed with utmost diligence, to make sure that I honor our ancestors, and our people. Trust me when I say I will do right by you and your love Kili, but you must trust me.”

Kili met the King’s bright, icy gaze with his own; warm, earthen honey eyes just as striking. “I understand Uncle.” Kili spoke softly as he slowly stood, fully clad in his armor as well. “I sometimes forget that I have to share you with all of Erebor.”

Thorin smiled softly and chuckled while he patted Kili’s shoulder fondly. “This doesn’t change the fact that Fili is now my favorite nephew. Less of a pain in my arse.” Kili’s smile of adoration fell immediately into a scowl.

“Oi! Just because he has the constitution of a sterile mountain goat doesn’t mean he deserves the title of favorite!”

“Better to be an old, sterile goat than a simpering billy frolicking after the skirts of its shepherdess.” Fili strutted into the armory with a catlike grin on his face.

“Enough bickering and get on with it!” Thorin growled good-naturedly.

Fili, still grinning from ear to ear pulled a gold coin from his pocket, only to have Kili smack his brother’s hand away. “Nice try! We are using my coin this time since you have bested me in the last three-coin tosses.”

Fili smirked. “Odds have always favored me.”

“We will see about that Brother Dearest.” Kili returned the smirk. “I call heads.”

The coin was flipped expertly into the air, a golden haze before hitting the back of Kili’s hand.

“Heads!” The younger Durin whooped. Flipping the coin to his older brother, he ran past him and his uncle victorious.

“I guess that’s only fair then.” Fili grumbled, a ghost of a smirk still playing on his lips.
Thorin mussed Fili’s golden braids. “Stand by. Keep your eyes open. There could be more out there lying in wait.”

**********

They rode for several hours, into the plains laid between Erebor, Dale and Mirkwood until it was too dark to press on. The crescent moon granted little light, and the night sky was blanketed with thick clusters of twinkling stars. No campfires were lit, allowing the dwarves to fully enjoy vastness of the celestial bodies.

Despite the reasons for leaving Erebor, Thorin was soaking in the beauty and tranquility of the night. He missed sleeping under the stars and breathing in the cool night breeze. He volunteered for the first watch his body not quite ready for sleep after the invigorating ride. He soon started to hear the snores of his men join in with the rustling of the long field grass.

They were camped on top of a large knoll that gave them visibility all around them, with Erebor and Dale to their backs and the vast darkness of Mirkwood ahead of them. After a few moments, he heard Kili stir then get up to come sit with him.

“I’ve missed this.” Kili murmured as he gazed out. “Never thought I would, but I do.”

They sat in companionable silence, back-to-back gazing out where the horizon of mountains and trees met the glittering sky.

Towards the end of their shift, Thorin felt Kili stiffen. “What is it?” He whispered.

“Movement, in the valley below. I see torch lights.” They got up and walked towards the edge of the camp that was closest to the torches. “It’s that band of orcs, it’s got to be.”

Kili hissed. “There are at least 15 torches from what I can see. And they are moving fast.”

At that moment, a loud animalistic shriek rent through the night, jolting a lot of the dwarven soldiers awake.

“What is it?” Dwalin whispered as he quickly joined them.

“Something is going on down there.” Thorin growled. “That wasn’t from an orc.”

Another shout echoed up towards them, one of enraged duress. “Gather the men.” We are going to sneak up on them. No one moves until my say so.” The king’s eyes flashed menacingly in the dark.

It didn’t take long for the platoon of dwarves to ready themselves and make their way slowly down towards the erratically moving torch light, leaving a few of them to stay with their packs and horses.

Soon it became apparent what was making the loud shrieking noises and growls. As they got closer, they soon realized the orcs were in the middle of torturing and toying with their wounded captives. On one edge of the hastily erected camp was a giant wolf like creature tied down by the neck and back legs. It was significantly taller and far more majestic than any warg, and an intelligence was evident in the way it snarled and snapped at its captors. The wolf creature appeared to be either white or light grey under the matted dark brown and red stains that littered its body. One of its front legs was limp, hanging uselessly as it fought against its restraints and the orcs that jabbed at it.

Dwarven eyes narrowed in hatred as they watched the cruelty. “It’s a dire wolf. It has to be.” Dwalin whispered low enough for only Thorin and Kili to hear.

“Where in Durin’s name did they find a Dire Wolf?” Thorin growled, his blood boiling.

“My king, there is a wounded warrior with the other group of orcs!” a soldier crawled up behind them urgently. “I … I think it’s a lass.” Their eyes widened in horror as they focused on the other gathering of orcs further down to their right.

“Show me!” The king hissed, gesturing for the soldier to lead the way. As Thorin and Kili crept away, Dwalin gestured for the platoon to divide, one to target the group with the wolf and for the other to follow them.

At first Thorin caught a glimpse of white-blonde hair whipping around as the figure attempted to fight off three orcs. The sound of steel hitting steel echoed above the raucous jeering of the orcs. One of them attacked from behind as the others served as a distraction, disarming the figure and wrenching her arm out of socket with a sickening pop. She yelped as she was tossed onto her back, her other arm still clinging to her last sword.

She.

She was a Dwarrowdam! Unlike any he had ever seen before.

He felt the rage from his warriors radiate around him. Kili already had his bow drawn, aiming for the orc that was standing over the she-warrior.

“Men khan ad hafar!! (Your mother was a dog)” The dwarrowdam spat, as she defiantly stared up at the orcs surrounding her.

The orc bent down and picked her up by the throat, holding her aloft effortlessly. “Gazat glob! (Dwarf filth)” the orc crooned, as he watched her struggle for breath, her sight growing dark. Before passing out, she was surprised to see an arrow slice through the orc’s ear and exit cleanly out the other. The orc’s eyes went blank with death before the pressure on her throat was lessened. As she felt herself fall, she heard the deafening cry “KHAZAD AI-MENU! (The dwarves are upon you!)”

She gave in to the blackness as a battle erupted all around her.

The battle was a quick one. The orcs had been so distracted with their sick games they didn’t stand a chance against the furious dwarf warriors. It was obvious they were a rag-tag group with no leader looking to pillage and plunder whatever they came across.

Kili rushed to the unconscious dwarrowdam as Thorin dispersed of the last orc. Kicking the body of the fallen enemy aside in disgust, he rushed to his nephew’s side. Kili was stricken with fury and concern as he looked over the unconscious woman. “Mahal.” He breathed, his body shaking in rage.

“Go grab a healers kit.” Thorin ordered as he knelt next to her. Kili nodded as he jumped up quickly.

“Is she alive?” He heard Dwalin’s gruff voice behind him. Thorin leaned over her, placing his fingers against her throat to see if he could feel a pulse. Suddenly, he felt movement under him and felt a cold, sharp blade press against his throat.

Angered and shocked yells erupted all around him. “Don’t touch me filth!” He heard a strong yet feminine voice growl at him.

His voice failed him as he found himself looking into the most striking eyes he had ever seen. His heart stopped and his breath seized in his throat as he found himself lost in the turbulent sea of her eyes. They were of the palest sea-foam green, with flecks of jade and gold scattered across their depths. At that moment, it felt as if someone had set his blood ablaze as heat surged through his soul. A tingling, almost euphoric high ebbed and flowed within him, blowing his pupils wide with the onslaught of emotions that threaten to pull him under. Then the realization hit. ‘No!’ His mind screamed ‘It’s impossible!’

He was brought back to reality, and he felt himself grounded to the earth below him. Her breathing was shallow and labored as she held herself up, her one arm dangling oddly at her side, with the other one shaking with the exertion of holding his boot dagger up in her last defense.

He slowly raised his right hand away from the side of her neck in surrender. “Easy M’eudail.” He breathed gently. “No harm will befall you.” He took notice of her eyes shifting to look behind him, and he motioned to his men to stand down. “We are here to help you.”

Her breathing hitched, and for a moment her grip tightened on the dagger. “Who are you?” She gritted through her teeth, as her body began to shake in shock of her injuries and the adrenaline was beginning to wear off.

“I am Thorin. And the two behind me are of my kin, Kili and Dwalin. We were hunting the Orcs that took you captive.”
She swallowed with difficulty as she began to realize how outnumbered she was. The faint torchlight dancing across the angered yet cautious faces of the dwarven warriors that now surrounded her.

“Let us help you, my Lady.” He whispered gently. “We mean you no harm.” Her gaze came back to him. She searched his eyes for any hint of a lie. He slowly brought his hand to hers, still clasped firmly to the dagger handle. He gently covered her hand with his and slowly helped her lower it until she relented and let the dagger fall to the ground.
He heard several sighs of relief once she was disarmed.

Kili slowly kneeled next to him with the healer bag grasped in his hand. “We will need to put her shoulder back in place before we move her.” Kili spoke gently, not wanting to spook the woman who was still holding eye contact with his uncle.

“Will you let us set your shoulder?” Thorin asked gently. She nodded her head as she inhaled a deep but shaky breath.

Thorin moved behind her quickly to hold her up and motioned for Dwalin to assist them.

“Ok lass. On the count of three.” Dwalin held her arm gently, preparing her for what was to come.

She gave a jerky nod and braced herself against the striking, dark-haired dwarf that was holding her up.

“One …Two …Three!” She was biting the inside of her cheek, hoping to brace herself for the pain, but she found herself screaming in pain for the first time since the horrific ordeal started. The wet, popping sound of her arm going back into place along with sharp searing pain that shot through her body overwhelmed her. Darkness flickered across her vision, and she found herself losing what little contents she had left in her stomach on the ground next to her.

“Easy lass, take a drink.” The deep voiced sounded so far away as the ringing in her ears increased in pitch. She felt someone place a water-skin to her lips, and she felt herself start to drink greedily. The cool refreshing water quenched the fire that was burning in her throat, chasing away the taste of iron and acid from her mouth.

“At least I didn’t give that orc filth the satisfaction of my scream.” She couldn’t stop herself from muttering as she felt pure exhaustion weigh her down. She was losing the fight to stay conscious.

She didn’t hear the dwarves chuckling at her sad attempt of self-soothing. She heard commotion in the distance, of snarling and shouts of alarm.
Luna.
It was Luna.
She was still alive!

She tried pulling herself up, trying to force her eyes open fully. “Luna. Please, please take me to her. Help her.” She found herself begging, desperately trying to stay conscious.

She felt herself being picked up; cradled protectively in strong arms, warm and safe. “It’s ok. We will take care of your wolf. No harm will befall either of you.” The deep voice soothed.

She had no reason to trust the voice. But she did anyway. It was a balm to the rawness that had been left exposed. It was security and warmth like a heavy blanket. Bright blue eyes swam behind her closed eyelids, blue like the icebergs that flow in the frigid salt waters of her home. Jagged pieces of ice glowing on the black sands of the beach in the bright, yet cold rays of the sun. Eyes like the water gems peering into the depths of her lonely soul.

Thorin felt her grow heavy and then limp in his arms as he walked quickly to his horse. “We must make haste for Erebor. She needs a healer.”

“What of the wolf?” Kili asked as he watched the poor animal pant in exertion. None of the warriors dared to be anywhere near the beast of myth.

“Milk of poppy. You should have some in our medical supplies. Put a healthy dose of it in a piece of meat. Hopefully it will eat it and it will knock him out so we can transport it.” Thorin instructed calmly.

He turned to Kili and placed the unconscious woman into his arms so he could mount his horse. “Dwalin, we will send you back with a cart to retrieve the wolf. Hopefully we can find someone to tend to the animal as well.” Dwalin nodded in affirmation. “Ketnys is very savvy with the caretaking of beasts. As long as we keep it drugged.”

Kili gently transferred the dwarrowdam back into his uncle’s waiting arms. Thorin then adjusted himself cautiously until she was held securely in the saddle in front of him. He was anxious to get her back to Erebor. He couldn’t allow himself to think about the connection he now sensed bound them together. It was too much to acknowledge in the moment.

*********

Thorin was pacing in the front of the infirmary, still clad in his armor. They had returned in the early hours of the morning. She hadn’t woken once on their fast ride back, and he refused to let anyone else carry her to the infirmary. His instant drive to protect her both confused and scared him, but it was too strong to simply ignore.

Quick footsteps approached him, pulling him from his chaotic thoughts. “Thorin!”

He looked up to see his sister Dis and his nephews approaching him, concern written on their faces. “Any word on how she’s fairing?” Kili asked.

Thorin shook his head as he continued to pace, his gaze on the floor.

“How bad is she?” Dis pressed.

“I couldn’t get a full account of her injuries. It was too dark.” Thorin grumbled in frustration. “How is the wolf?”

“They managed to drug it.” Fili informed him. "Dwalin and Balin are down in the dungeons with it now. We had no other way to cage it. They used the biggest cell we have.”

The dwarf king nodded. “Very good. We must make do for now. Has it been seen to?”

“Yes. Ketnys and her assistants were able to tend to its wounds.”

Dis shook her head in shock, the concept of an unknown warrior maiden with a giant Dire-Wolf was hard to fully grasp. “Did she have any clan markings on her or her weapons?” She asked to no one in particular.

Thorin was getting tired of shaking his head, of not knowing any answers. “None that I’ve ever seen.” He growled in frustration.

The infirmary door opened, and Oin walked out. “Gemlinn is finishing up with her bandages. She has several bruised ribs, lacerations to her arms, torso and legs, fractured collarbone, bruised jaw.” He prattled on gruffly while he fidgeted with something in his hands “But she will make a full recovery with some rest. I’ve given her a tonic to help with the pain and sleep.”

Thorin felt himself letting out a sigh of relief. “What was a dwarrowdam, warrior or no, doing out by herself!” Dis exclaimed, horrified with the list of injuries.

“You’re forgetting she has a pet wolf. Called it Luna if I remember right.” Kili offered.

“A pet wolf!? I’ve never heard of such a thing! Have you? A warrior maiden with a wolf? No other escort? Something doesn’t sit right with it Thorin.” Dis crossed her arms across her chest looking between her brother and Oin.
“I took this from her armor.” Oin added as he handed it out for his king to take. “I’ve never seen anything like it before, in all my years of treating warriors and fighting in battles.”

Thorin’s eyebrows furrowed. It appeared to be a shoulder guard, glowing with an eerie metallic sheen in the light of the wall sconces. It was cool to the touch, as if its silvery blue surface was repelling the heat from his hands. It was surprisingly lightweight despite the layering of the scale like material. “It’s scales.” He spoke frigidly when it began to dawn on him what the armor was.

“Scales?” Fili and Kili parroted in disbelief.

“Dragon scales.” Thorin growled, his jaw clenched. “A frost drake.”

Dis gasped. “What on Mahal’s green earth.”

“Frost drake armor; dire wolf mount … She is from the Northern Wastes.” He looked up from the foreign armor in his hand and back up his friend.

Fili and Kili looked at each other in alarm. “The northern wastes? I thought it was thought impossible for anything to thrive there?” Fili asked as he approached his uncle’s side to look at the armor.

“Apparently not.” Thorin mused aloud, not knowing if he should be intrigued or disturbed by this piece of information. “I’ve heard legends, of an ancient dwarf clan that hunted dragons and rode dire-wolf mounts into battle.”

“Thousands of years past.” Oin muttered, shaking his head. “Said to have disappeared long before Durin’s Bane chased our kin from the halls of Moria.”

“Laddie, you have to see this.” Balin huffed urgently as he and his brother Dwalin joined them. Thorin, Dis and the princes turned quickly, to see Balin red faced and out of breath as if he and Dwalin had run all the way from the dungeons.

Dwalin stepped forward, holding out two swords. “I grabbed er swords after you had taken er. I didn’t have a good look at ‘em until we got back here, after that wolf had been seen to.”

Thorin stepped past his family and reached for one of the swords while passing the shoulder guard to Balin for him to examine. The sword was elegant in design, similar in concept of Orcist but smaller. The hilt of the sword looked to be made of the same dragon scale with a jade like stone at the center of the pummel. The blade was of a darker grey metal, intricately detailed with a dragon emerging from turbulent waves and breathing spears of ice and billowing clouds. Thorin could tell from how the blade edge glinted in the orange light of the fire from the wall sconces that it was wicked sharp.

“Laddie.” Balin sounded nervous as he examined the piece of armor, he handed to him. Thorin knew his closest adviser and one of his dearest friends had come to the same suspicion he had. “This … this is unprecedented.”

Thorin had rarely seen Balin at a loss of words. “What is a dwarven dragon slayer of legend, never mind a lass, doing outside the plains of Erebor and Mirkwood in the hands of orcs?”

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

*Thorin*

Dis was surprised to find her brother sitting in a chair in the corner of the dwarrowdam’s room. She had practically shoved him into his room in the early hours of that morning.
His elbows rested on his knees as he leaned forward, his eyes firmly fixed on their unconscious guest, his face slightly contorted in what seemed to be a blend of confusion and discomfort.

“Brother. You should be resting.” She admonished softly as she stood beside him, startling him back to reality.

He grunted and rubbed his face wearily. “I couldn’t sleep.”

She frowned in concern. “Something disturbs you … about her?”

“It’s hard to explain Dis.”

“You can’t seem to keep your eyes off her.” She tried to not sound like she was accusing him. She couldn’t help but wince at her tone. “I heard she held a knife to your throat.”

“She was badly injured and confused. She was just trying to defend herself.” Came his quick response. “She didn’t hurt me … obviously.”

She followed his gaze to her face. She was strikingly beautiful and ethereal. Her skin was extremely pale against the mottled purple and green bruising that was scattered about her diamond shaped face and neck. Her hair was the color of the palest gold, glowing faintly in the light of the fireplace. It was long and thick, curly, and wild against the pillowcase and bedding, surrounding her head like a halo. Her lips were full and bow shaped, their shade hard to determine due to the cuts that spit both her upper and lower lip.

“I’ve never seen a dwarrowdam of her coloring, or of the features she bares.” Dis thought aloud, trying to draw her brother out. She had never seen him act like this before. It was unsettling, feeling the nervous energy emanating from him.

“Dis…” he started, but his voice failed him, as if he was struggling to find the right words to say.

She knelt next to her brother, grabbed his hand, and looked up at him encouragingly.

Thorin looked at his sister’s hand that was firmly clasped in his. He breathed in deeply and managed to look her in the eyes. They were tumultuous with an emotion she rarely saw.

“I felt the pull Dis. When I looked into her eyes. Just like Amad described when she met Adad.” His voice was low and gravelly. “I’ve never felt this before, with anyone.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you certain?” She breathed. Thorin sighed and nodded. His whole demeanor exhausted and defeated. “Yes. Unfortunately.”

Dis scoffed, despite the situation she wanted to smack him. “Unfortunate? You stubborn ass, if you truly felt the pull then that means she’s…”

“Don’t.” He ground out, suddenly standing up feeling the need for distance.

“Thorin, you can’t avoid this. If she truly is, you will need to face it.”

“Not a word to anyone.” He hissed, his anger scantily covering the cold dread that had been slowly filling him the moment his eyes locked on hers. “Until we know more about her, you are the only one trusted with this. Not even Balin or Dwalin are to know.”

Dis stood slowly to face her brother. “You have my word.” She reached out and put a comforting hand on his arm. “We can’t assume the worst without knowing more. Don’t overwhelm yourself with burdens that do not yet exist.”

***************

*Mistlynn*

The strong scent of wintergreen and lavender overwhelmed her groggy senses as she slowly came to. She blinked, willing her sight to focus as she gingerly tested her sore ribs. They were bruised. Her right shoulder throbbed dully. “Great.” She huffed in exasperation.

This wouldn’t do. She can’t stay in this weakened state. She scanned the room quickly as she pulled the covers up and swung her legs over the side. The walls were a dark green stone, marbled with veins of black and white. She cursed to herself when she realized there were no windows. Breathing in, she pushed herself up onto her wobbly legs. She pushed herself through the initial pain, breathing steadily as she willed her body to cooperate. Gradually the pain subsided enough for her to move about tenderly.

She found her clothes folded nearby on a table with her leather and fur boots resting at the foot of her bed. Her armor and weapons were nowhere to be seen. She groaned. “Figures.”
She dressed quickly, ignoring the protests of her body. She had to get out of here, wherever here was. She silently approached her door and leaned her ears against it, and only silence greeted her. She gently tested the doorhandles, and silently praised Aule that the door was unlocked. She opened it slowly just enough for her to peer out.

Facing away from her stood two dwarves, bent over a table examining something while talking in hushed voices. One was obviously older, his hair greyish white and spectacles perched on his nose. His companion was younger, with thick golden hair. He had many warrior braids weaved throughout, and the way he held his shoulders back spoke volumes of his strength.

“I can take two of them.” She thought to herself as she quickly formulated a plan of escape. Her eyes fell on a tray close to where her door was, and on its surface were several knifes of various sizes. Her eyes narrowed in determination. Perfect. Subdue the younger, stronger one and use him as leverage against the older one. She would lock them in her room. She silently opened the door enough to squeeze by and sneak towards the knives. She managed to grab the biggest one without a sound and situated it perfectly for the task at hand.

Fili and Oin were lost in their conversation, not suspecting for one moment their guest would be of the mind that she had to escape. They were looking at a map of Middle Earth, quietly talking about the Northern Wastes and possibilities of a Dwarven kingdom thriving without the rest of all dwarven kingdoms knowing. Fili was listening to Oin intently when he suddenly felt a cold thin object against his throat. He watched Oin’s eyes widen in horror.

“Easy Lass! Put the knife down now!” Oin pleaded as he watched the female dwarf hold the knife to the prince’s throat in fierce determination as she quickly relieved him of the daggers that he had sheathed in his belt.

“Quiet. Do as I ask, and no harm will befall you.” Her voice was calm as she finished tossing the daggers away from them, then grabbed Fili’s shoulder to direct him firmly.

“Into the room I was in. Now.” She ordered, gesturing her head towards the room. Oin held his hands up and slowly started walking towards the room. “Lass, our king saved you from the orcs. We mean you no harm.” He pleaded.

“I can’t take that chance. I don’t even know what kingdom this is.” She growled.

“You are in Erebor.” Fili managed to grit out, angry at himself for being caught unaware. By a female no less. He didn’t want to try to overpower her, in fear of hurting her further. “If we meant you harm you would have woken up in the dungeon, not the infirmary.”

“Long Beards? Ruled by a Durin’s Son? I can’t trust any of you.” She spat, her eyes flashing. “Get in the room now!”

Oin quickly stepped into the room, frantically trying to think of a plan to rescue Fili. She brought the prince right to the door jam. “No hard feelings my good Dwarrow’s. I’ll take my leave of you now.” With surprising swiftness, she removed the knife from the prince’s throat and shoved him forcefully into the room, making him stumble into Oin and onto the ground in a heap.

She slammed the door and quickly locked it with the key that had been hanging by the door on the wall then rushed back towards the daggers she had pulled from her captive. She quickly heard pounding on the door and faint yelling. She smirked, knowing no one outside of the empty infirmary was going to hear them. By the time they did she would be long gone.

She scoured the room looking for any of her weapons or armor, only to discover they were not in this room either. She cursed her bad luck. She would just have to make do with what she had, although she was grateful for her leather corset that she had cinched tightly over her white long sleeved. It provided her bruised and battered torso with much needed support.

She opened the main door to the infirmary and peeked out, relieved to find that no one was out. “Now to find my way out and find Luna.” She laid out her goals in her mind. This was going to require her stealth training, to successfully sneak out of the Lonely Mountain. She quickly dashed into the shadows along the wall and started walking away from the infirmary and the distant pounding of the door. She heard multiple heavy footsteps ahead and she quickly ducked into an alcove that was ahead of her and watched in dismay as a group of very intimidating dwarves entered the hall, walking with purpose towards the infirmary.

The leader of the group looked familiar; he was very tall and proud both in stance and bearing with wavy, raven black hair. His face was stoic, jaw firmly set in determination as he listened to the elderly dwarf that kept pace with him with an undivided attention. He was flanked by another tall dwarf who was partially bald, the Khuzdul runes reserved for the greatest warriors tattooed proudly on his scalp. He was heavily armed; his fierce eyes partially hid by bushy eyebrows set in a furrowed brow. A younger version of the leader walked alongside the warrior, armed with a similar dagger to the ones she now had possession of. Two guards came to a stop at the end of the adjoining hall that the group had come from and stood at attention, effectively cutting off her clean getaway.

She gritted her teeth as she pressed herself closer to the stone wall. “Now what?” She growled to herself.

“Wait … Do you hear that?” The young dark-haired dwarf stopped the group, drawing their attention from the hushed conversation to the faint sound of pounding.

“It’s coming from the infirmary!” The leader exclaimed as he broke out into a run. The sound of his voice made a shiver run down her spine. She recognized that voice. He was the one who she had held at knifepoint that night they saved her from the orcs. The bitter taste of doubt and regret overwhelmed her at the realization. Her heart was now beating rapidly. She was on the verge of being recaptured. “Too late to turn back now.” She scolded herself mentally. “Got to get out of here now.”

She heard shouts coming from the infirmary. Her captives had been released. “Curse it all.” She seethed. She started to slink alongside the wall, hoping the guards would leave their post at the sound of the shouting.

“She can’t have gotten far!” Her heart seized in her chest. It was now or never. She had to make a break for it!

The guards looked towards their king, and she took advantage of their distraction. It wasn’t a matter of being seen now, but of speed. She bolted from her hiding spot and sprinted towards the hall.

“There she is! Wait!”

She didn’t wait. Ignoring the pain that was searing up her torso she sprinted down the hall, past the surprised guards and towards the light leading her way out. Her blood was pounding in her ears as she ran, muffling the sounds of the heavy footsteps and shouts that thundered down from behind her. She focused on the feeling of her legs and feet as she ran as fast as she could, schooling her breathing to give her the very will to help her escape.

“How is the lass even runnin?!” Dwalin thundered incredulously as they pursued her.
Thorin was just as shocked. Just this morning she was unconscious and pale, seemingly helpless in the bed from her wounds. And now she was flying down the hall, her hair streaming behind her. “We must cut her off! Balin! Have the front gates shut! No one enters! No one leaves!”

“It will be done!” Balin broke off from the group and ran as quick as he could towards a shortcut that would take him to the front gate.

As she neared the end of the hall, she realized that she was approaching the main cavern of the mountain kingdom. The main gate was to her right, and several stories down. She was on one of the higher levels that oversaw the entire market that stretched as far as she could see. Impressive stone bridges crisscrossed above and below her, and large banners of dark blue velvet displaying the emblem of Durin’s crown hung, gently waving in the slight breeze blowing in from the main gate.
She was breathing heavy, determined to not let panic seize her. The market was teeming with dwarves, men, and elves alike. If she took the stairs she would be caught for sure.

She looked at the banner that was hanging from the pillar in front of the balcony she was trapped on, her eyes following it down. Within jumping distance, it would take her down to the main level. She would have to jump down onto a roof of a small shop, but it would be better than breaking her leg on a sheer drop onto the stone floor.

It was her only option.

She pulled out the confiscated daggers and gripped them tightly as she looked back at her pursuers briefly before her eyes narrowed in determination, and then turning and jumping onto the landing rail and launching herself towards the banners, daggers outstretched.

“NO! STOP!” She heard a terrified shout boom and echo around her.

**********

Thorin could have sworn that his heart had stopped cold in his chest when he watched his One throw herself off the landing into the air. He didn’t even remember screaming for her stop. He didn’t pay attention to the horrified shouts from his nephews and friends as skidded up to the railing and dared to look down. He was stunned to see her sliding down the banners, with Fili’s daggers slicing through thick velvet with ease.

“What in Mahal’s name!” Oin exclaimed as they all watched in shock.

“There is no way I am following her!” Kili stammered as they watched her descent.

Startled screams and shouts started to echo throughout the market as onlookers watched the bizarre scene unfold before them.

She should’ve known that the daggers were sharp, thus her rapid descent down the banners were a little too quick for her liking. Before she knew it, she had sliced completely down the banners and was now free falling towards a small shop roof. She landed on her feet, but the old shop collapsed on impact; and she found herself laying in a ruined heap of old wood and shattered shingles. Thankfully she had fallen on a shop filled with rugs, her fall somewhat padded although her body seized in pain with the shock of the fall, the air completely knocked out her lungs.

She groaned as she tried to push herself up. “Can’t stop now you dolt.” She chastised herself mentally. Screams and shouts thundered in the enormous cavern around her as all chaos broke loose. She gasped desperately for air, her body fighting to obey her command to get up and run.

*******

Thorin, Dwalin, Fili and Kili practically slid down the stairs. He heard the shouts of his guards over the panic of the market and the resounding ‘BANG’ of the gates closing off the outside world.

‘She’s here somewhere!” He shouted over the din to his nephews and Dwalin. “Fan out and spread the word!”

Bofur and Bifur ran out of their toyshop into the pandemonium of the market. Bifur grunted and signed to his brother, confused and worried.

“I don’t know! Let’s find the rest of the company!” He shouted.

“Bofur! Bifur! We need you!” Fili ran up to his friends, still trying to regain his breath.

“What is going on?” Bofur took in the prince’s bedraggled appearance with concern.

Thorin came running through the crowd that had begun to gather around the collapsed rug shop.

“The lass uncle rescued. She escaped, held me a knifepoint!” Explained quickly as he grabbed his friend’s arms. “We are trying to catch her.”

It was then that they heard gasps and cries ahead of them, and a dusty, rumpled figure stumbled out of the ruins of the rug shop. Thorin’s stormy blue eyes met her turbulent green ones for a split second before she turned and ran away from him.

The dwarf King growled in a renewed fury as he took after her. “Halt! I command you to halt!” He yelled as he weaved in and out of his confused and scared subjects.

“Try to cut her off!” He yelled as they started to gain on her. He still couldn’t believe she was still running at the capacity she was. He wasn’t even injured and at the peak of physical fitness and he was starting to struggle with keeping up with her pace.

“How is she still running?! Dams can’t run like this!” Kili panted as he fought to push himself faster.

“What did you lot do!?” Bofur yelled, still confused about what was happening. Just minutes before he had been working on some of his new toy designs, and now they were chasing this poor female through a crowded market as if she was a wanted fugitive.

“We did nothing!” Fili panted in exasperation.

“Hogs Spit! No lass runs like this for no reason!” Bofur tossed back.

A growl ripped out of Thorin’s chest as he pushed himself further, faster, desperate to just make her stop running. He slowly started to gain on her as they began to reach the end of the market and towards the depths of the mountain.

Ahead of them, he saw a line of guards run across and block the way with their massive axes. His relief disappeared as quickly as it appeared as he watched in disbelief as she ran towards the stone wall and picked up speed. Right before she was about to crash into the guard she jumped and ran up the wall with an unbelievable ease, up and over his head to land gracefully on the ground behind the shocked dwarf guards.

As she turned to dart off again, a blur of red hair tackled her to the ground with a loud thud. Tauriel, who had been residing within Erebor as Mirkwood’s Emissary, had tackled, and pinned the breathless dwarrowdam to the ground with relative ease.

“Oh, thank Mahal.” Kili heaved as he came to a stop.

Thorin slid to a stop directly in front of the Tauriel and her gasping captive. “Heavens. Above. Woman…” Thorin growled as he breathed heavily, his face dark with anger. “Why. Did. You. Run!?”

Her eyes bore defiantly into his as she struggled to catch her breath. Her nostrils flared in barely contained anger as her body shook with the exertion of her poorly planned and failed escape.

They held each other’s glares for several moments as everyone around them attempted to catch their breath. “Nothing?” Thorin pressed, his icy tone seemingly making her more defiant.

“Fine.” He growled, he gestured for his guards to step forward. “Bind her and bring her to the throne room.”

“It shall be done your majesty.” Came his guard’s terse reply.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

She fought against the guards as they half carried, half dragged her through corridors.

She growled and cursed under her breath; teeth clenched in self-loathing. She had failed miserably, and just landed herself in even hotter water than before. She should’ve been shocked at the complexity of Erebor. Its caverns were enormous. Her mind was foggy at best, probably due to her injuries and exhaustion she had battling the past few months.

Dwarves looked on with wide eyes as they parted, allowing the feral looking woman to be dragged along as she kicked, shook and growled menacingly. Her white-blonde hair was free flowing and wild in untamed curls, her pale skin despite the bruising was pink with the exertion of her recent acrobatics. Her stunning eyes were bright and flashing as she looked around her, trying in vain to find another venue to escape. She knew in her gut escape was not going to be possible this time, and that she most likely blew it. She was going to have to improvise.

The king and his company were further ahead of her and her increasingly frustrated escorts. She couldn’t help but scowl at his back. She knew of these dwarf kings that ruled in Arda; and was warned repeatedly on the knees of her father and grandfather before him to not trust and avoid them at all costs. They only cared for their own, giving no mind to what lay outside of their kingdoms. They feared the unknown, and resented change and other races.
If they knew how her people, let alone her ancestors survived the strife and war, they would be hunted down and eradicated, like a blight to be erased from both dwarf and elf kind. From what she had heard briefly in the infirmary, they had already correctly guessed where her home was, which prompted her rash escape plan. These dwarves were not dumb, unlike some of the others she had stumbled across in her travels.

She was broken out of her inner musings as huge carved doors opened before them and she was led into a vast room. She couldn’t help her eyes going wide, mouth agape with awe at the raw beauty and majesty of the throne room.

“Did you send word for Balin, Gloin and Nori to meet us?” Thorin’s deep voice thundered around in the vastness of the throne room, making her situation even more daunting. But she was determined to not let her fear show.

“Bifur and Oin are fetching them now.” Dwalin answered curtly, as he kept a suspicious eye on their prisoner. Bofur stood with his arms crossed over his chest as he studied her with his keen eyes while Fili and Kili stood on either side of their uncle, their gazes mixed with fascination and respect.

Thorin was aware how they looked at her, he couldn't blame them. She was truly an amazing sight to behold, her fiery spirit undeniable and exotic features were nearly impossible to ignore. He dismissed the guards with a nod of his head. “Leave us.”

They nodded in reverence then turned and quickly walked out of the throne room, just in time for rest of Thorin’s companions to join them. The sound of brisk, heavy footsteps could be heard over the sound of doors closing heavily.

“Durin’s beard! All of Erebor is humming about this young lady’s stunts.” Nori chuckled in amusement as they approached.

“This little lass?” Gloin couldn’t contain his surprise.

Balin’s white bushy eyebrows were raised as he looked down at her as he stood in-between Dwalin and Fili. Despite being on her knees, her back was ramrod straight, her head held up proud, her expression one of fearless defiance, despite her hands being bound behind her back. “What is your name lass?” He asked, his tone kind as if they were meeting under more agreeable circumstances.

Her nose flared as she breathed in, trying hard to disguise the pain she felt from her screaming ribs. “Come now lass.” Balin pleaded as he took a step towards her. “Your name please.”

Her defiant gaze was aimed past Thorin’s shoulder, towards the imposing throne that sat just beyond them all. But the kindness of the old dwarf’s voice made her heart ache unexpectedly, he reminded her of her grandfather, both in appearance and demeanor. ‘Aule, I miss him.’ She thought unexpectedly. She pushed down the sudden emotion by swallowing and talking another pained breath through her nose. Her hopeless situation was starting to weigh in around her. “Mistlynn.” Despite her voice cracking with emotion, it was pleasing and strong.

Balin nodded encouragingly and smiled. “Mistlynn. Such a beautiful name. Now, why did you run?”

Mistlynn looked at him, her defiant expression returning quickly. “I didn’t ask to be brought back here.”

The dwarves surrounding her raised their eyebrows in surprise as Thorin laughed humorlessly. “You were in no state to ask for anything when we came to your aid.”

“I had it under control I didn’t need your rescuing.” She spat back, her eyes flashing in anger.

Kili shot his uncle a look of surprised irritation. “You would’ve died if we hadn’t stepped in.” Kili protested, trying to not let his hurt feelings show.

“And you shouldn't have interfered with my fate!” Her shout echoed around them, taking them all aback with her complete disregard for her life.

“Now, now lass…” Balin dared to step closer to her and bent down slightly to meet her eyes. “There is no need for this hostility. My king, in good conscience, could not let those orcs kill you. You are in his kingdom, and you fall under his protection and all orcs are to be killed on sight.”

“He didn’t tell me he was a king.” She growled, shooting Thorin an accusing glare.

“At that moment I didn’t think it necessary for such introductions.” Thorin shot back.

“Despite all of that you have no right to repay our hospitality with such blatant disregard. I forgave you holding a knife to my throat, but you also did it to my heir for no reason! You were not being held hostage, but you were a guest being seen to by our best healer!”

Mistlynn’s jaw clenched as she trembled at the fierceness of his voice. “All your actions have done is further provoke my suspicions of your presence here in my lands.”

“I was simply passing through. The orcs ambushed me.” She sniffed, her gaze turning to the floor in front of her, not looking forward to the interrogation she knew was inevitable.

“I know you are not native to any of our neighboring dwarven kingdoms.” Thorin growled as he stepped forward to stand alongside Balin, who was looking at the girl in concern. “So, tell me, what is a solitary dwarrowdam from the Northern Wastes doing this far West?”
“What makes you think I’m from the Northern Wastes, MY Lord?” She drawled mockingly, not happy her suspicions of them guessing her homeland were spot on.

Thorin smirked as he pulled her shoulder guard from his inner coat pocket and tossed it to the ground in front of her. “I know what dragon scales look like. And judging by the color and feel of the scales on your armor, it’s from a Frost Drake; known only to exist in the Northern Wastes.”

“I am no longer a part of any kingdom, so the reasonings behind my wanderings are of no concern of yours.”

“I find that very odd indeed.” Thorin growled as he started to circle her. “What do you think Master Nori? Doesn’t that sound like what a spy would say?”

Nori stroked his cinnamon beard with feigned contemplation. “Certainly does, my King. Her kingdom could very well be trying to get some intel on our strengths and weaknesses.”

“I told you! I have no ties to any kingdom!” Mistlynn snapped impatiently.

“And why is that?” Thorin pressed. “Should I attempt to send a raven? Reach out to this unknown kingdom of yours and ask about your wanderings and supposed innocent intentions?”

“No! Don’t! You can’t!” Her tone became desperate.

Thorin smirked again, catching Balin’s intrigued look. He stopped again in front of her and bent down, so that he was eye level with her. “You better give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”

Mistlynn held her breath at Thorin's closeness. The pull she felt towards him was aggravating to say the least. She should feel nothing but disdain but found it hard to keep up her callous disposition towards him. She was literally at his mercy, but despite that she didn’t have the feeling she was in any real danger. She looked up into his eyes, sea green crashing into the depths of cerulean blue. She let out the breath she was holding, in turn allowing some of her defense to slip. “I left of my own accord. I failed my prince. I failed my family. I couldn't stay. My only option was exile.”

Thorin held her gaze, seeing for himself the deep seeded pain that churned within. He was shocked to find he knew her sadness all too well.

“Pretty serious to be exiled from your kingdom. Especially a dwarrowdam.” Nori mused aloud, Gloin nodding in agreement as they studied her.
“I am a warrior.” Mistlynn growled defensively. “Doesn’t matter my gender, I failed to uphold my oath.” She broke eye contact with the king, her eyes cast down once again to the floor in front of her.

Thorin continued to study her for a moment, his brow furrowed in skepticism. “Leave us.” He bellowed firmly.
His companions looked at one another in concern before they started to file out. Mistlynn attempted to swallow her nerves as Thorin stood up, his eyes not once leaving her form.

“I’ve never seen a mere warrior with such weaponry or armor. The way your family crest is displayed speaks of nobility.” He mused aloud, as if he was talking to himself. “Tell me, are you the heir or the spare?”

She could feel his icy eyes boring into her. She felt numb. There was no way she was this obvious. She didn’t act like a princess! Did she? She forced a mocking laugh. “Neither.” She scoffed, still refusing to meet his gaze.

Thorin smirked. He had her right where he wanted her, and he was starting to enjoy it immensely. “Your weapons are of superior quality, and your house crest is that of the highest nobility. Being raised as an heir to the throne of Erebor I was taught to recognize the intricacies of a noble house crest.”

He kneeled before her, still smirking as he took her chin in his grasp to force her to look up, once again capturing her eyes with his. “Now I am going to ask you again, and I highly recommend that you don’t lie to me this time about your lineage. Otherwise, I’ll take your lies as confirmation of you being a spy with nefarious intent.”

She couldn’t help the shudder that ran down her spine as she was forced to look into his icy eyes. The sensation she felt trickling down her spine was not of fear but of a sensation she had yet to experience. She felt her cheeks flush as her lungs seized in her chest. The unnerving pull she felt as she looked at him made her want to run her dagger through him and flee but at the same time, spill all her darkest fears and become one with him all at once.
The cascade of unfamiliar emotions and feelings made her voice silent as she tried to speak, she found that no words could be uttered from her mouth.
As the moments passed, she felt as though she had no choice but to admit to her true linage, but before she could speak Thorin’s grasp upon her chin became tighter as he drew their faces closer together.
“M’eudail” he said, not to inspire fear from her but more of a commanding yet pleasing tone “I’m not used to being made to wait on others, for I am the King and I have commanded an explanation, what say you?”

She drew a long breath before succumbing to her fate and uttered the simple word through her gritted teeth. “Spare.”

Thorin’s brow arched as a grin slowly crept across his face. “That was easier than anticipated.”

The realization of his deceit fell upon her “That was a bluff? You lied!”

Thorin chuckled silently “Why of course, I barely know your name and your heritage let alone who you would actually be.” He looked upon her with a look that pierced into the deepest parts of her body, a feeling that caused great unease and desire all at once “Although I was not lying when I said that the quality of your armor and the details of your crest led one to believe you are more than that of a simple nobleman or farmers daughter.”

His lie should have made the anger inside consume her but quite the opposite happened; she felt the feeling of admiration and longing. She quickly brushed the feelings aside straightening her spine trying to pull from his grasp causing Thorin’s grip to tighten, leading her to believe that the mark of his touch would linger for days after.
She found herself longing for his lips to touch hers causing the unease inside her to dwindle but all too soon Thorin released his grip from her face and turned his back to her walking away leaving her longing for the absence of his touch.
She had remembered the stories of an ancient bond between dwarves known as finding you’re ‘One’. She, of course, had never seen nor experienced this sensation as the draw to one's soul mate had long died out with the combining of Elves and Dwarves over the centuries. Could this be that? No, it cannot be, such things are only that of night tales for children, a way to send them off to a peaceful slumber filled with happy dreams.
She shook the thought from her head realizing the precariousness of her situation and the need to escape the confines of this kingdom as soon as she was able.

*Thorin*

He felt the trembling of his bones as he turned his back on her. The calloused and scarred hide of his flesh had never felt skin so soft and enticing. He clenched his hand into a fist, willing for it to stop shaking. He had never felt desire such as this, his pull to her was stronger than that of a rushing currant. He had never had to exercise such restraint as he had when his lips almost touched hers and now, he longed for her more than he imagined one could for another.
All at once though the realization of the duties of a king fell upon him knowing that he could not fully trust her even with the pull of her being his one he could not allow his newfound desires to cloud his judgment for the safety of his people. He all too soon decided this may be another sacrifice for the safety and prosperity of his kingdom he would have to make.
“Why would they exile their princess?” his voice filled the silence of the room harsher than intended, causing her to flinch at the abruptness of his demand, the strain of not taking her into his embrace, caused more frustration than he wished to even admit to himself.

“That, My Lord, is not a story to be told lightly.” she whispered into the ground.

“We find ourselves in a precarious situation then if you are to not tell me. For a kingdom to exile their princess I can only assume she cannot be trusted.” Thorin examined her reaction with care, surprised that instead of defensiveness and anger she showed sadness and guilt causing him to pause in his suspicions against her innocence.

“I failed my prince, my young brother.” She let out a chocking sob in her throat “I oversaw his safety, and I failed him. There are only two options for my negligence death or exile, I chose the latter a choice of which I struggle with more than ever now as find myself at your mercy.”

This response unnerved Thorin to his core yet softened the suspicions that had been growing in his mind. “Did he die by your hand or your negligence?” He questioned.

“What difference does it make? Either way he has left this world for that of Mahal’s halls.” The evasiveness she showed would have led any other being to be cast to the dungeons but something inside told him there was more to this than she was ready to say, and he felt the overwhelming need not to pressure her any farther for an answer.

“The difference is unquestionable but at times feels the same in one's mind. I will choose to believe that you are not a danger to my kingdom at this time as long as you swear to no longer cause destruction and chaos through my halls, to no longer hold my people at knifepoint and to keep all weapons with the captain of my guard until such time as you have proven to no longer be a threat in any way to myself or my kin.”

She closed her eyes and sighed, relieved that he had not pushed her for a more direct answer, she chose to ignore the voice in her head that they were far from done with each other. When she opened her eyes again, she found he was now facing her, the piercing gaze of his eyes upon her, once again unyielding in their intensity yet calming the horror that Argos death brought upon her daily.

“I know you're keeping the details of this tragedy to yourself. I will not pry beyond this last question so long as your answer rains truth. Was it by your hand or your negligence?”

“The intention was not to cause my brother's death.” She said with a hushed finality to her tone.

“That was not the answer to my question. It is simple, did you murder him or not?” His frustrations raising again.

“Nothing is that simple!” She snapped back.

“How is it not that bloody simple? You either released his soul from his body or you did not!” His tone matched that of hers.

“Whether I allowed the vile reptile to freeze his soul on purpose or not does not matter!” She screamed. His eyes flashed with the slip of her tongue as it confirmed his suspicion of her being from the North. All at once Mistlynn sucked in her breath with the realization of what she had done. Seeing the error of her words she knew she could no longer hide where she was from.

“A frost drake?” He demanded matching her scream with his own loud bellow echoing through the room.
“You believe I have never seen a dragon? Have you looked upon the hall in which you stand? Do you believe I decorate with scorch and claw marks of this size?” He gestured for her to look at where she was. She then realized above the throne and upon the pillars were the deeply marked etchings of the hideous claws from a beast she loathed the most.

Feeling as though she had no option but to cover her mistakes, she tried to dismiss the past horrors surrounding her. She cursed silently to herself realizing her lack of knowledge of the world outside the White Kingdom. “What would a spoiled Dwarf-Lord like yourself know of suffering? Those markings I would bet are ancient in nature; you never seeing the creator of them! You reek of one who has inherited his kingdom and its wealth never working for what lays before him!”

Thorin's face looked as though she had struck him across the cheek; then as her heartless words sunk in, he darkened with a color of crimson she had never seen. Mistlynn quickly realized the mistake she had made but was unwilling to back down from this fight. The pull between them grew in intensity but whether they would survive the impending explosion of their heated exchange was yet to be seen.

“I may have not come across a Frost Drake in all my years of war, but I have suffered and fought against the vile Smaug. I fight daily against the Orcs that continuously threaten the safety of my kingdom and that of my allies. There is a great difference in whether you sacrificed or lost your kin! I know of both losses more than a sheltered, spoiled, naïve, rash princess who has barely left her mother's teat could ever possibly fathom!” Thorin was brought aback with his anger. He’d never show such ferocity in his speaking to a female in all his days. The raw emotions that this woman brought out in him was of a depth he had never experienced.
Mistlynn stood from where she knelt; looking up at Thorin’s seething gaze, her body tensed and readied for a fight even though she remained bound.
“I am of one and twenty-five years, you insufferable, decrepit old man! The fact you stand before me without the aid of a walking stick is truly commendable. Your healer should be given a knighthood.” Even though she believed nothing of what she said, Mistlynn could not back down.

Thorin moved quickly to her with barely a breath's distance between them, breathing heavily with raging emotions he could not place. They stood, eyes locked on one another flushed with anger and desire while challenging each other to break the silence, their chests rising and falling rapidly.
In fear of giving in to his newfound desires, Thorin bellowed back “I would expect nothing less than this disrespect from a Half-breed such as yourself!”

Mistlynn lurched back as though he had struck her from the sheer disdain that dripped from his lips. Thorin immediately regretted the words he spoke, wishing they could be taken back. Unknowing of what do and unwilling to hear her response knowing nothing good will come of this continued debate, he stomped from the room slamming the large wooden doors open than closed behind him without so much as a look in her direction so as not to change his mind.

He was met with the faces of shock and joy of his inner circle. Oin’s ear trumpet fell from his grasp breaking the newfound silence with a loud clatter. Dwalin’s thick beard twitched with shock. Kili and Fili’s mother smacked the back of their heads together in a failed attempt to silence and control their muffled laughter to the momentous exchange they had all just witnessed.
Balin stepped forward hoping to calm the situation as he had never seen his dear friend in a state such as this. “In all my years I’ve never known you to include all of Erebor into your discussions.” He chuckled. “I advise Your Majesty to allow me to take your place for a time so you can rest and eat. Allow me to acquaint myself with our new guest if it pleases you.”

With a loud huff Thorin shoved through his group of companions out the common doors into the main corridor. All at once Thorin missed the heat of her body and the sweetness of her smell that had invaded his senses with her proximity, but he could not focus on that feeling of loss.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

*Mistlynn*

Her mind was a whirlwind of emotional chaos as she walked alongside Balin, slowly rubbing her wrists in attempt to relieve the lingering pain of her bonds he had gently removed.
The White Kingdom had never needed to be in one place for longer than a season. They moved with the weather and the herds to always have sustenance to grow. Mistlynn could not fathom living one’s life in one place; never moving and to stay living within the same walls around them day in and day out.
Her pace was slow and cautious through the golden laid passages of what Balin called the Hall of Kings. She could feel the energy of the centuries of lives that had lived in these halls. She had never seen such grandeur in all her life; nor a room so gorgeous and ancient that was filled with so much history, sadness and love. So much destruction and rebirth chronicled in vivid detail. She never knew such knowledge and opulence existed. She was so lost in her rampaging thoughts she failed to realize Balin had ceased talking. His gaze looking upon her expectantly, white bushy eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I’m sorry. Did you ask me a question?” She stammered, trying to feign a look of indifference. Very unconvincingly it would seem.

Balin blinked, hiding his smirk. “I apologize my dear, but you seem to be … a little overwhelmed.”

“It’s hard not to be standing in such a room as this.”

He watched her as though she was gliding across the gilded floor towards the vastly impressive statue of Thrain I, Thorin’s great grandfather who had led Durin’s folk from the overtaken halls of Moria by the Balrog. The sheer raw power of the lifelike stone looking upon her conveyed a sense of unease, as though this proud Dwarf King looked down at her judging her naivety. She looked away, trying to hide the feelings of being minuscule and unworthy.

Just then a portrait caught her eye, the rich colors of the paint were breathtakingly realistic. The couple in the portrait flanked with their three children looked so ascetic and regal. The woman sat in an ornate chair of gilded woodwork on a lush navy cushion.
She was adorned in a breathtakingly beautiful gown of cornflower blue and white silken layers that were beautifully enhanced by silver embroidery and precious stones. What could be seen as gaudy seemed to be perfection in its execution. A graceful diadem was elegantly interlaced in a wave of luscious golden curls and braids of hair. The stately man stood behind her, his hand placed lovingly upon her shoulder. His striking attire was as black as a raven’s wing with deep midnight blue, making his bright vivid blue eyes even more striking, as if they were glowing. The thick hair and beard peppered with black and silvery grey waves added to his look of distinguished stoicism.

A darling young girl with shining black curls and sweet smile looked as though she had been cut from the same cloth as the woman. Her matching frock shimmered as though she was floating happily upon her mother’s lap.
The younger boy favored his mother’s coloring of golden locks and exuded a sunny disposition even through this painting. The older boy was a younger replica of the man both in appearance and temperament. But the eyes of this boy, though matching the prominent blue of his fathers, seemed different; pensive yet caring. They immediately drew Mistlynn in, pulling her slowly closer. There was a resemblance in his eyes she couldn’t place. All three children shared the remarkable blue eyes of their father, but the older son’s eyes called to her in a familiar way.

Balin walked up alongside her silently, his eyes twinkling. “Beautiful, isn’t it? This rendition is one of my favorites. Thorin always favored his father in appearance, but he was always his mother’s kindred spirit.”

She turned abruptly to Balin in surprise. He nodded towards her with a kind smile on his face. “When Erebor fell to the dragon Smaug, we lost not only our home and thousands of our kin, but Thorin suffered the loss of both his dear mother and grandmother. He led our people to safety while his father and grandfather struggled between their grief and dragon sickness.”
Mistlynn tried not to show her confusion at the words as she had never heard of dragon sickness before.
“He worked in the cities of man as a blacksmith to help clothe and feed what was left of our women and children. Then, the Battle of Azanulbizar came with a steep price for our people. Azog the Defiler beheaded his grandfather, Thror, in front of him. His younger brother Frerin, and many of our kin were lost to the wretched orcs that day. His father Thrain was driven so mad with grief he disappeared. We were never able to find him. Sorrowfully, we learned too late he was captured and tortured for years by Azog in the dungeons of Dol Guldur.”
Balin took a deep breath, steadying the emotion that started to make his strong voice waiver. Mistlynn noticed a hint of tears welling behind his eyes before blinking them away, covering the sadness with a halfhearted smile through his snow-white beard.

Mistlynn blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the tears she felt gathering up behind her eyes.

“So much pain, loss and most of all; death. He’s never been the same since the death of his family. Becoming a leader at fifty and three was so much to carry on his young shoulders, he has held his own better than I could have ever imagined though and has made the safety and prosperity of our people more important than that of himself.”

She swallowed thickly, feeling shame flush through her body at an alarming rate. The words she had so evilly spit at Thorin coming back in waves, causing her breathing to hitch and the desire to retch upon the gilded floors became strong.

“I find it curious that you are not familiar with our history. It is well known throughout our race.” Balin commented, as he studied her face.

Mistlynn twisted her hands with an anxious energy, trying all she could to hide the sadness and guilt upon her face. “I had no idea of your people’s history, or that of any others outside of the White Kingdom’s. I am finding I know nothing of Arda’s and feel as though the little we all have been told, as to why we should never leave our lands may have been for reasons that now no longer exist.”

Balin looked upon her silently, hoping to not spook her and allow her to keep speaking.

Mistlynn took a deep breath, not knowing why but feeling as though she was safe in asking her queries with Balin “Do you know the story of Belegost?”

Balin arched an eyebrow. “We didn’t even realize your people existed until you were brought here. We have all been told of the tragic tale of Belegost falling into the sea with all Beleriand. Stories have circulated, of course, amongst travelers and tradesmen of strange beings riding Dire Wolves and wearing strange attire but that has always been dismissed as mistaken identities or tall tales spun from tales of old. We believed only those that made it to Moria survived.”

“I was never told that any made it to Moria, Master Balin. However, it was by design that you did not know we existed.” She murmured, her eyes landing back on the portrait of young Thorin and his family. “We didn’t want our existence to be known as fact, but rather as legend. So that we may be left to live our lives in peace. No judgement. No war. No greed.”

Balin steadied himself, taking a deep breath as he tried to figure out what he should ask or say next. “My dear, would you care to explain why your people felt the need to hide from their own kind? Could it possibly be because of your lineage being intertwined now with that of the Elves?”

“You heard my disagreement with your King earlier, I take it?” Balin nodded with a half smile.

“I cannot betray the secrets of my people. Surely you must understand that, but I will admit that there has not been a pure elf leader for generations.” Shocked with herself that she spoke the words she had, Mistlynn withdrew her gaze from upon his face. Balin, noticing the apprehension in her answer, chose to no longer ask and save his questions for another time.

“I understand. Perhaps we can revisit this topic once we have gotten to know each other better.” He said with a kind, peaceful smile.

Silence hung in the air for a long while before Mistlynn asked a question that had been plaguing her mind amongst all the other issues of the day.

“May I ask a favor of your kind sir?” Balin raised his eyebrow “Within reason my lady, I will grant any wish that is within my power.”

“My Dire-Wolf Luna has been taken from me. I would like her back.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

*Thorin*

He was pacing. Always pacing nowadays, it seemed. “That infernal woman!” he thought to himself. Not the one currently yelling at him in his office; no, the other one.

“Are you listening to me Thorin?” Dis had her arms crossed, perturbed her brother was ignoring her.

“Yes.’ He grumbled.

Dis raised an eyebrow, unfolding and recrossing her arms while looking at her brother, wondering if he truly thinks she is stupid enough to believe him. “No, you’re not. You’re not listening. Otherwise, you would be having an actual conversation with me.”

Thorin threw his head back in annoyance “There is no conversation to be had Dis. I would like to be left in peace with my thoughts thank you very much.” He buried his head in his hands while huffing out his frustration.

She laughed humorlessly and flung her hands onto the marble desk, staring down at her petulant brother. “Oh, there is so much conversation begging to be had. Like the fact Bofur and your eager nephews overheard your little lover’s spat along with the half of Erebor. It’s all they can talk about, Bofur is already composing a ballad about it!”

Thorin growled in response, still pacing irritably.

“You have been left alone with your thoughts long enough Thorin!” She thundered at him “If you were hoping that no one had caught on that she is your One, well, your just shite out of luck now!” Her hands gestured wildly in the air.

Finally at his breaking point, Thorin let out a frustrated roar’ as he flipped over the marble table and sent its contents scattering across the floor. “SAR EM GABURA!” He boomed, making the portraits above the fireplace shake.

Dis let out a huff of annoyance immediately followed by a slow clap, completely unimpressed with this powerful display of frustration at his defeat. “Every time. Without fail. You are such an eloquent speaker.” She drawled, looking at him with blatant sarcasm. “Will there ever come a day that you will learn to use your words over your fists?”

Thorin stood there breathing heavily, looking between the globe on the floor and his sister, toying with the idea of kicking it at her insufferable head. But he decided against pissing off the only woman in his life that was currently on his side.

“Now that you have subsequently destroyed a marble table in which four generations have sat at and also has survived the decimation of Smaug, are we able to have the discussion of her being your One? Or would you like to destroy anything else? You have enough of an armory in this room I’m sure you could make swift work of smashing something else to pieces!” The sarcasm dripped from her words.

Unamused by her mockery, Thorin let out a loud huff before collapsing upon the only chair left unbroken. “Why do you feel there is anything to discuss, Erebor comes before all for me, you know this Dis. I do not have time for a One; especially that One!”

“Oh Thorin, if anything you need her more than Erabor needs you! The “polite” conversation shared between you was a perfect example of why she was chosen for you as your One. I quite enjoy her exuberance and her pure inhibition to stand up to your stubborn arse. I know we will become fast friends.”

“Sister if you were anyone else, that comment would get you thrown into the dungeons…wait? What do you mean friends? She is insufferable!”

“Well then, it’s a great thing I am your sister and even though you may fight me you know I am right and that she was sent by Mahal. His choice for you will not be questioned.”

“I am king of Erebor! Watch me!” He spat, his temper flaring once again.

“Whatever helps dear brother.” Dis glowered back, staring him down challengingly.

Just then the cracking of glass under a boot catches Thorin’s ear.

“Dammit Laddie.” Balin sighed as he made his presence known, shaking his head and rubbing his hand through his beard, while looking upon the destruction of centuries old furniture through the room. Thorin and Dis had been so engrossed in their argument that they had not heard Balin enter the room quietly to observe their exchange.

“I hope you realize that marble table had made it through four generations and Smaug?!”

“Why does everyone care about this fucking table so much? We are Dwarves! I will have it repaired! But that is not the issue at hand! Find me another and I will destroy it too for the anger you two continue to perpetuate upon me!” Thorin thundered.

“Laddie, this is not anger that you experience. This is the frustrations of finding your One, having your eyes opened and realizing there is more to life than just Erabor. You have given your life for our people; it is time to have some happiness after all these years.”

“Did you tell him?” He looked at Dis with strong accusation.

Balin chuckled deep in his belly and up through his chest. “Dis didn’t have to say anything. Anyone who has seen you two together already knows. This is the strongest pull I have ever seen Laddie, and I have been around since the mountains were hills.”

Thorin turns from his companions trying to mask the sheer panic that flooded his face. How was she to be his One? “I don’t even know where she comes from or who she is, yet she is supposed to be the one I bind my life to?” He yelled while running his hands through his hair. “Your all insane and I am about to call the healer to have everyone looked at for it seems the ale has been poisoned. That is the only explanation for this insanity.”

“Ahh … love.” Balin said with a sighing smile. “I do have information from her if you would like, but it seems you are busy so maybe I shall come back.”

Thorin turned around slowly, choosing to ignore the love comment and inquire only about the information. “Speak now or you shall truly need that healer and it will not be for poisoning but to reset your limbs.”

Balin sniffed, unphased by the empty threat. “Belegost.” He stated simply.

Thorin’s eyes widened at the name of the sunken kingdom, having not heard its name since he had been a dwarfling in his studies.

“What of it.” He growled.

“She is a descendant of those who survived. From what I can discern they chose a nomadic life of peace and sanctuary with their fellow Elven survivors. She is what you suspected, born of a lineage intertwined with Elves. She knows nothing of our Kingdom since after the fall of Belegost. Her knowledge of that outside of the Northern Wastes or as she calls it “The White Kingdom” is nonexistent, she believed all outside their lands to be enemies, only to be feared and to be avoided at all costs.”

“I thought the survivors sought refuge in Moria?” Thorin couldn’t hide his surprise.

“Some did. Others went North apparently.” Balin shook his head. “It’s been said that Nogrod drew first blood against the Elves; maybe they didn’t feel safe fleeing with their kin to Moria. Details have been lost to time we can only speculate.”

Thorin shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

“Well, at least we have an explanation as to her behavior. The poor thing is probably overwhelmed.”

“And where is the poor little dear now? Sulking in her room I assume? As soon as she is sufficiently healed, I’m sure she will be on her merry little way and out of my beard.” Thorin snorted in disdain.

“She is with her Dire wolf checking on her health.”

“SHE’S WHERE?” Thorin shouts, rumbling the broken glass all over the floor.” What did you do Balin? Why would you allow her around that animal? It could be dangerous! Its wounded! She could be injured even more than she is now, that thing could kill her!”

Balin lets out a loud laugh that travels thru his belly and up his throat.

“I don’t see why this is so funny” Thorin shouts.

“Because my boy, for a man that does not believe she is his One and who has no care on when she leaves or not you are very concerned of her welfare. Especially when if you took a moment to think you would remember that animal, that beast, is her beast. If it is to eat anyone it won’t be her.”
Thorin knew the words Balin spoke were true but even though he understood them they did not register in his mind; he couldn’t see how that thing could be safe and the overwhelming urge to keep Mistlynn safe was unsettling.

*********************

He was fuming as he made his way to the dungeons, Dis and Balin quickly following suit.

“She agreed to be locked in the cell, she is doing no harm.” Balin huffed.

“It’s a Dire Wolf, Balin.” Thorin seethed. “It could swallow the lot of us whole in the matter of mere moments.”

As they drew closer to the bigger cells, they heard faint murmurings. Thorin slowed his pace holding his hand up to silence his sister and advisor. He silently crept up to the side of the cell that held the wolf and its master. He peeked around the corner, his eyes widening slightly at the sight before him.

Mistlynn was sitting on the floor, her legs outstretched in front of her with the wolfs head resting upon her lap. Her hands were buried in the white fur of the animal, gently caressing, and stroking it while murmuring in a sweet soothing tone words he could not make out.
It was the first time he saw her truly relaxed except for when she was unconscious in the infirmary. No longer aware of his sister and Balin still waiting behind him, he strained to hear what she was whispering to her beast. Just then, he noticed the faint glistening of a tear as it fell down her cheek, Thorin went to take a step, wanting desperately to wipe it from her cheek but stopped himself before she saw and pulled back into the shadows where she could not see him.

“I’ve made a royal mess of things Luna.” She hiccupped as she fought to control her tears. “Your hurt because of me. I had no idea where we were at or where we were going.” She paused, sniffing, before taking a deep breath.
“I had no right to take you from our home. All because I couldn’t face my father and Valin. Because of my shame.” Her hand came up to stroke the wolf’s ears, and she shuddered as more tears fell.
“I have been an incomprehensible ass to the King who has given us aid. I’ve insulted him in the worst imaginable ways and I’m too afraid to even look him in the eyes again. I don’t deserve his mercy or forgiveness. I’m frightened about what will be done with us.”

Thorin sighed as he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the wall where the cell bars were imbedded. A gentle nudge shifted him, making him open his eyes to see Dis looking over his shoulder with an encouraging look on her face. “Go on.” She whispered, nudging him again. He had to place his foot forward to brace himself, and it was enough of a movement for Mistlynn and the wolf to look over at him abruptly in surprise.

Mistlynn’s grip in Luna’s fur tightened and dread began to fil her stomach. ‘Shite.’ She cursed to herself. She felt her wet cheeks, she knew it would be obvious to him that she had been crying. She swallowed thickly and quickly wiped her face, hoping her eyes were not as bloodshot as they felt.
Luna was still holding her head up, looking at the imposing dark figure that was slowly approaching the door of the cell. It was apparent that the wolf felt no threat coming from their uninvited guest, and to the shock of her owner she wagged her tail weakly, so that it ‘thumped’ on the stone floor. And then, to everyone’s surprise Luna started to move to stand up.
Mistlynn gasped. “Luna no.” she admonished softly, trying to soothe her by stroking her neck. Luna ignored her and pushed herself up on her feet, her injured front paw now held in a sling. She started to hop towards the cell bars, her head bowed low as her eyes held the gaze of their visitor.

Thorin watched in shock as the massive, injured wolf approached him. If standing to its full height, the wolf’s head would easily be the same height as his. Instead, it approached with its neck lowered as if in submission. The wolf came as far as it could go, its molten gold eyes boring into his. It was unnerving to say the least, but at the same time he felt no fear or threat coming from the animal. Questioning his own sanity, he slowly slipped his hand through the bars, hovering it over the wolf’s head. He heard a gasp from Dis and Balin as the wolf raised its head until Thorin's palm was resting between its ears. Thorin slowly ran his fingers thru the beast’s hair taking in the softness of her fur.

Mistlynn felt her jaw go slack, her mouth slightly agape in shock. Thorin was gently petting her wolf! And Luna appeared to be enjoying the attention. To see her accept him with unwavering certainty scared her. Thorin cleared his throat before speaking softly. “I see that she…or he… is recovering nicely.”

Mistlynn nodded, shocked that he was speaking to her. “Y-yes, yes thank you, she should be good in the next week or two. The healer that saw to her was very capable.”

Thorin nodded, unsure how to continue or what to say next. “That is very good to hear.” He continued to pet the soft fur, his gaze still on the wolf. Not once did he look up at her.
She shifted from one foot to another, trying to disperse her nervous energy.

Dis and Balin looked at each other, pained with the awkwardness of the situation. Dis threw up her hands in resignation. How did a good-looking dwarf, such as her brother, struggle so with talking to a female? Especially so when this female was supposed to be his soul mate, the very one that Mahal himself crafted for him.

Thorin cleared his throat, seeing his sister’s impatient gesture of acute social duress, and gently pulled his hand away from the wolf. He stepped back slightly before bringing his eyes up to meet hers. “There is the matter of where you will be staying for your duration of your… visit, that we must discuss. Since you are recovering from your injuries and…the like.” His voice was gruff as he struggled to formulate a plan in his head on the spot.
He, at first, had pictured tossing her out and pointing her towards the little cozy inn in Dale. But after hearing her heartfelt confession to her … pet? He couldn’t bring himself to follow through with the plan, The thought of her alone in Dale did not sit well in his mind the more he thought about it. She wasn’t from here, and a dam could not just be removed from his kingdom in such a state. Never mind his distaste of her? Was that what he was feeling?
Surely it was, that must be what the unease he was feeling was… distaste. She at least needed somewhere safe and under his eye to recover. This way he could make sure she recovered properly before she took her leave.
‘And leave she must!’ he thought to himself, but not too soon of course, he would not want to be seen as inhospitable and barbaric to his neighbors. A room wouldn’t be out of the question, since Oin undoubtedly wasn’t keen on the idea of having her back in the infirmary for obvious reasons. Normal housing was out of the question. She would draw way too much attention living amongst the residents of Erebor.
That left the royal quarters. She was technically a princess. It wouldn’t be odd for him to give her a room fitting of her station. ‘Yes, the Royal Quarters would be the sensible option.’ he thought to himself.

“I think it may be prudent to just forget our prior…disagreement.” His lips twisted in a humorless smirk. ‘Since it is befitting your station, you will be given one of the rooms in the royal quarters until you are well enough to continue on your way.”

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t expect you to go out of your way to place me in such quarters. I appreciate your offer, but it would please me to stay here with Luna until we are healed enough.”

Thorin's eyebrows raised in disbelief. “That is out of the question. I will not allow a guest of our kingdom to sleep on the floor of the stables like a prisoner.”

Her stance became defensive and was tensing to deliver a quick retort, but an exasperated sigh interrupted her thought.

“That is just preposterous! For once I agree with my brother.” Mistlynn watched as Dis walked out from behind the wall, poise and confidence gave her a commanding presence, adding to her striking, natural beauty. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought Dis and Thorin to be twins. Dis shot her bother an unamused glower before looking at Mistlynn, her face instantly brightening with a dazzling smile. “Mistlynn, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. I was hoping to meet you earlier, but you were otherwise detained.” That last word was dripping with accusing sarcasm, directed once again at her sibling, who only rolled his eyes in response while leaning against the cell bars, his one arm above his head, the other coming to rest on his hip. Mistlynn’s eyes widened at his pose, before licking her dry lips, quickly turning her gaze to Dis, eager for distraction. This reaction wasn’t missed by Dis, or Balin who had come out to stand alongside her.

“I must insist you come stay in the the royal quarters with us. I would feel better as your host to see to your speedy recovery and ensure proper rest and nourishment. I promise your wolf will be seen to most intently. you will have unlimited access to her daily.” Dis encouraged, yet her tone not giving any room for argument.

Mistlynn crossed her arms over her chest. However, not in retaliation but insecurity. Thorin’s frown deepened. He was starting to get whiplash from her abrupt changes of attitude.
Luna had gone back to Mistlynn, and gingerly laid down on the straw-filled mat that had been provided for her placed in the back of the cell.

“It grieves me to leave her down here. She is of no threat to anyone, especially in her state. Could she at least stay in my quarters while we are here?”

“I beg you understand that the presence of your Dire-Wolf among our citizens would cause alarm. She is a creature of legend, not seen for many centuries in our lands. Let us see how the situation proceeds before we consider moving her anywhere else. She will be well taken care of here, safe from prying eyes while she recovers. I give you, my word.” Dis was a good diplomat, Mistlynn would give her that. She could not find fault with her logic. She pursed her lips together as she looked at Luna, worry and fear still evident in her eyes. Luna looked at her for a long moment, before letting out a huff and closing them, looking comfortable laying on her side.

Mistlynn sighed. “Very well. I shall come back to check on her tomorrow.”

Thorin grunted, pleased with his sisters take over. “Very well. Have a good evening.”
Dis looked at his retreating form in exasperation before looking back at her guest. “Thank you for indulging my wishes. I, for one, am very eager to learn more about you. It has been a very long time since we’ve had such exciting company.”

Mistlynn couldn’t help but smile at Dis as Balin began to unlock the cell door, allowing her to step out and join them. It was comforting to be in the presence of another female.

‘Come on Lassie. Let’s get you settled in and fed.” Balin gently touched her arm, guiding her out to walk in-between him and Dis.

********************

*Mistlynn*

Her jaw dropped the moment Balin opened the door to what was now her quarters. She had never imagined such luxury existed. The 4-poster bed was intricately carved dark wood, jewel tone blankets of deep emerald and sapphire made up the bed with thick black furs arranged at the end. Settees, plush armchairs of similar make and color were arranged tastefully throughout the room, in front of a whimsical writing desk in the corner by the massive stone fireplace. A fire had been lit prior her arrival, and it blazed merrily as warm radiated from the hearth.

A dining table of the likes she had never seen before was set for 4, the food was sat upon it, steaming invitingly. The smell coming from the food made her mouth instantly water.

“I took the initiative to have some food brought. I can only imagine how long it has been since you have had a proper meal. You are skin and bones my dear, I hope you don’t mind me saying.” Dis chatted as she swept around the room, making sure that everything was in place for her. “I have also had a bath drawn for you. I had them bring hot water so that you could eat at your leisure.”

Mistlynn nodded as she slowly approached the table of food. “You are very kind, my Lady.”

“Oh, hush. Please, call me Dis. It has been far too long since I’ve had a friend. The dwarrowdam’s of the court I keep at arm's length, but I feel like I can trust you to be a confidant. True friends are few and far between.”

Mistlynn looked over at her sharply, surprise written all over her face. “I am honored you think of me as such.”

Dis smiled at her warmly. “My instincts have never been wrong. We will be great friends, you and I.” She watched Mistlynn smile spread shyly across her face. “Oh, don’t let me stop you I am sure you are famished.”

Mistlynn looked back at the table of food. “I am, actually.” But she paused as she looked at the foreign food in front of her. “I don’t even know what to start with.”

Balin gestured towards the small basket covered with a cloth napkin. “Bombur’s rolls are divine, especially when you dip it in the stew. If it wasn’t so late, we would have had more of a dinner course available to you, but he has the kitchen closed down until the early morning….”

“Oh no this is more than sufficient I assure you!” Mistlynn assured him quickly. She reached for the basket of bread and lifted the napkin, seeing the most curious little golden balls she had ever seen. She picked up one, surprised to see it was still warm. “What is a roll?” she asked, still looking at the soft object in her hand curiously.

Balin and Dis were genuinely surprised. “It is bread.” Dis explained, confused.

“Bread?” she lifted it up to her nose and sniffed it. It was a pleasant, warm slightly sweet aroma.

Dis and Balin looked at each other. “You’ve never had bread?” Dis asked, trying to mask her astonishment.

“No. I’ve never heard, seen or even smelled something such as this.” She looked up at her companions, bashful at the realization she was once again at a distinct disadvantage.

Balin smiled encouragingly. “Well then Lass, there is no better time than the present! Take a bite, tell us what you think.”

She sniffed it again, savoring the mouth-watering smell, taking a tentative bite. Her eyes widened in pleasant surprise. She couldn’t help but sigh with the explosion of soft, sweet bread that seemed to just melt in her mouth. “This is amazing!” she gushed, her eyes alight with happiness.
Dis stepped forward lifting a small dish filled with little golden spheres that glistened in the firelight. “Here, if you think they are good alone, you should try it with butter.”

“Butter?”

Dis nodded, a pleased smile on her face. She picked up the knife and put some on it for Mistlynn. “Here, just spread it across the bread.” She did as Dis instructed, the golden substance spread smoothly on the top of her roll. As she took a bite her eyes fell shut in bliss. “This is incredible.” Her voice was filled with awe.
Dis and Balin watched, fascinated with her child like joy of discovering a new favorite food. They never thought that a simple roll could be so lifechanging for one.
Mistlynn sat down in front of the bowl of stew promptly dipping the small remainder of her bread into its gravy like broth. “I’ve never tasted anything like this, it is amazing.” The stew was rich and hearty with tender meat and other root like vegetables she had never seen or tasted before. This meal was truly delightful.

“Well, you have truly made my evening Lassie.” Balin beamed, “I am glad you are enjoying your meal.”

Mistlynn nodded her head gratefully, her mouth full of stew, finally over her shyness as she began to devour the delicious meal before her.

“Your dressing maid will be in shortly to help with your bath and to turn down your bed. Let her know if there are any special requests you need, we have a selection of oils and perfumes that can be added, especially to help you sleep.” Dis stated her voice soft and loving,

“Oh that won’t be necessary, I have already had my monthly bath a week ago and truthfully I’m not sure what a dressing maid or perfumed oils are.”

“Monthly bath? Oh dear, that won’t work here my dear the weather alone won’t allow for you to go any longer than a week without smelling like a goat’s behind. A dressing maid is someone who will help you undress, dress, draw your baths and set up your bed before and after sleep.”

Mistlynn stared at Dis as though the words she spoke were that of a foreign tongue. “I really don’t believe that will be necessary, but I will accept your kindness.

“Do you not have maids in the White Kingdom?” Dis asked, suprised that a princess would not have a maid charged with her care.

“We have those to assist us, but I have never had a person to assist with my sleeping routine. As the princess there are ones to take care of my dirtied leathers and replace them with clean ones. We have ones that cook or clean after others but since we are a nomadic people everyone must do their part and assist in the keeping of the village.”

Balin simply shook his head as he watched Dis struggle with trying to find the right words. ‘It seems we have a lot to learn about you lass, and you will be learning a whole new way of life as well. It will be interesting to say the least.”

Mistlynn smiled as she reached for another roll. “I look forward to it Master Balin.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

1 month later…

It had taken a good week for her bruises to fade from her skin. She still felt some discomfort in sudden movements of her torso, but she was on the mend, and that was good enough for her. Luna was improving quickly as well, being fed a steady regiment of meat no doubt helping her quick recovery. She was still in the cell, but she didn’t seem to upset, she still slept most of the day and night on the soft little hay filled cushion. It was a nice change from what they were used to, especially once she had fled her kingdom. Food and comfort were rarely found, and far between good bouts of rest.

Mistlynn had grown restless after a good week of resting. She had never seen so much decadent food in her life. Not to mention her assigned room made her personal tent back home feel positively barbaric.

Balin and Dis were regular companions, bringing books and maps for her to study in her downtime. Dis had even brought her sons to meet her officially. They were kind, and rather painfully reminded her of her beloved younger brother, Argos. She apologized profusely to Fili for holding a knife to his throat. He waved it off, rather complimenting her on her near escape and her impressive combat skills. Kili, who also admired her daring stunt with his brothers ‘borrowed’ daggers and the banner of their family crest, was also eager to learn about her origins. She gave very vague answers, just enough to satisfy their eager questions. Like Dis and Balin, she had the distinct feeling she could trust them. But it was too soon, and her peoples secrets precious. She did not want to add treason to the guilt of her brother’s death as well.

Dis had given her permission to leave Erebor to explore Dale at her leisure. Dis knew Mistlynn would not leave without Luna, so she knew there was no threat of her leaving.
Thorin wasn’t too keen on this idea but Dis kept the details of his displeasure to herself. She hadn’t seen the King since that night in Luna’s cell. She was relieved he kept his distance, even though the thought of him keeping his distance from her purposefully didn’t give her the sense of pleasure she thought it would.

She blamed her confusing emotions and thoughts on her idleness. So, she decided it was time to visit Dale, to see the race of Man. She talked to Balin extensively on what it took to survive here in this strange world. Coin is what was needed to survive, not a bartering system that she was accustomed to.

She had skills. She was a very proficient in leather working, and she could tan the best hides this side of Arda, this she was confident of. She did feel like it was appropriate to seek employment inside Erebor’s walls, and Dale proved to be the key to fixing her financial woes.
In the first couple days of her exploration of Dale, she found a tannery that needed another hand. She proved her skill quickly and the shady little man put her to work immediately.

She didn’t mind the long hours, she found once again working with her hands both in skinning, tanning and the tedious ministrations of making armor a welcome relief from her thoughts of her current living predicament and most of all, Thorin.
He lingered in her every idle thought and haunted her dreams at night. It was unsettling to say the least. Infuriating. So, she sought most of her time outside of Erebor’s walls, making her own way out from underneath his influence. She was now making money from her hides and leather armor. Orders, much to the tannery owners delight, were piling up. She was finally seizing some power back. She was in control of her own fate once again. She may just be able to survive in this world on her own.

*****************

*Thorin*

“What do you mean she’s been spending her days in Dale? Doing what?” Thorin was looking up at Balin from the pile of paperwork splayed out in front of him.

Balin sighed deeply. “She’s been going out early, before dawn and then coming back right after sundown. Goes to the Dire-Wolf’s cell, then goes to her room. Then she repeats.”

Thorin raised an eyebrow as he set his quill back in its holder. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his forehead with his ink free hand. “You have gotten to know her? Unless Dis is just being overly generous with her praise of her character.” His tone was forced indifference. He was losing the battle of keeping himself busy, of keeping his thoughts free of her and the beautiful green pools of her eyes.

Balin looked over his shoulder, eyeing Fili, and Kili expectantly. “Amad isn’t exaggerating. She really is a delightful creature. One of the most engaging dwarrowdam’s I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.” Fili’s tone was neutral as he skimmed over some of the paperwork regarding one of his tasks as crowned prince and heir.

“Quite lovely and refreshing. If I hadn’t already found my ‘One’…” Kili drawled teasingly, looking at his brother and Balin with a cheesy grin.

Thorin glowered at them. “Dale isn’t exactly safe for any woman, let alone a Dwarrowdam.” He growled, pointedly ignoring his younger nephew. “Since you are such fast friends, I want you both to follow her. See what she is up to.”

Balin rolled his eyes and snorted. “It’s Dale. What kind of mischief could she cause in Bard’s kingdom?”

“I don’t want to leave her with enough freedom for us to find out.” Thorin drawled, giving Balin a stubborn look.
Balin shook his head. “How long are you going to keep this up Laddie?” he didn’t hide the exasperation in his voice. Kili kicked Fili, making his brother grunt in pain and rub his shin. Before he could retaliate, he saw Kili watching their uncle and Balin with keen interest.

Thorin’s frown deepened. “I am not going to discuss this anymore. I just want to make sure she is not a threat to my kingdom. Despite her winning all of you over, I have yet to be convinced of her intentions.” Strangely, his tone held no bitterness or anger. Just a deep sorrow etched with pain. The two brothers looked at each other in surprise, seeing their uncle let down his walls was rare. It was a brief window looking into someone’s deepest and darkest fears and the anguish that was constantly threatening to drown them.

Balin’s exasperated expression turned sympathetic. “I am most certain you do not have to worry about any nefarious plans coming from her.” Balin took a step closer to his friend, hating to see him hurt. It cut him deep whenever he saw this side of Thorin, and it hurt him even more knowing that he was denying himself the happiness he full well deserved. Balin knew where it stemmed from, however.

He had lost so much. Out of fear of losing more, he kept everyone at arm's length. But this imposing figure of a Mountain King had a heart, and he felt deeply and passionately. He was always empathetic and sensitive to the feelings and needs of others, especially to those who had less than him. It was an amazing trait that Thror and Thrain had attempted to snuff out, worried it would make him a King that was easy to manipulate and control. Instead, it made Thorin aloof, restrained, self-depreciating. He had constructed thick, forbidding walls that rivaled the strength of those of Erebor. But occasionally, a crack emerged and would allow someone a glimpse of that young dwarfling that once laughed, hoped, and loved freely.

“Do you really think Mahal would construct you a ‘One’ to be your enemy? She is the other part of your soul, Thorin. She is the one who will make you whole, not destroy you.”

“She will destroy me.” Thorin whispered, to no one in particular. “She is not of our kingdom, our world. This is not her home. She will leave the moment her wolf is healed. She can’t stand being here, she escapes whenever she can, she has been trying to since the very moment we brought her here.” Thorin swallowed thickly. “She will leave. They always do.”

The atmosphere of the room grew thick. Fili and Kili looked at each other with sorrow in their eyes. They could not stand seeing him this way.
“Uncle, we shall see what she is up to.” Fili spoke first, his voice neutral of any emotion. Kili, the romantic optimist of the family was dying to comfort his uncle, to tell him what he was confident Mistlynn was trying to carve herself a life here in Erebor, but Fili caught his gaze and silenced him with a firm shake of the head. Again, not the time for fluff talk. Kili rolled his eyes, irritated he was once again silenced by his brother. Fili motioned for him to get up and leave with him, giving Thorin and Balin privacy to talk. “We will wait for her at the gates before sunrise. Be at ease Uncle.”

Thorin sighed, giving his nephews a faint smile. “Thank you.”

Fili and Kili gave him even brighter smiles. “Of course, Uncle.” This time Kili spoke, “We look forward to proving your suspicions unwarranted.”
Fili smacked Kili on the back of the head and shoved him out the door, giving Thorin and Balin an apologetic look before shutting the door behind him.

Balin took a moment, looking at his friend who was more upset than he even realized. “You’re going to tear yourself to pieces, keeping yourself from her. Once that pull occurs it’s only a matter of time. I’ve seen it happen. You became a shell of your former self. And that is all I am going to say on the matter.”

Thorin leaned his head back in his chair and shut his eyes tightly. “Thank you Balin, that will be all.” He heard Balin sigh again and walk out of his office. His gut clenched painfully, making it hard to breathe. It was getting worse, despite his best efforts to ignore it, it was starting to take its toll on his sleep. On his day-to-day life. It was terrifying to feel his energy and will seep from him, as if he was bleeding out. One way or another, he had to figure out how to get ahold of himself.

****************************

*Mistlynn*

Before sunrise next morning…

As she approached the main gates, she saw two familiar figures standing alongside the guards. Her eyebrows raised to her hairline as she recognized who they were. “Kili? Fili? What are you two doing up so early?”

“Mist! Fancy meeting you here!” The dwarven princes grinned cheekily, making her immediately suspicious. “We were just tossing the idea around of taking a nice little morning jaunt down to Dale! Were we not, brother?”

Kili nodded, all too eager. “Yes brother, a stroll through the city. Seeing the sights. People watching. Good fun!”

Fili kicked his brother in the back of his achilleas, making Kili grit his teeth, his grin now a pained one. “Listen to this dolt, all eager to get out. Mountain fever and all that entails.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Seriously guys. Why are you here?”
Fili feigned mock indignation, gasping as if affronted. “So suspicious. You’ve been spending too much time with our Uncle, dearest.”

“I’ve spent no time with your charming uncle.” She popped her hip to the side, arms now on her hips and her lips pressed thinly. “He’s the one who is asking you to follow me, isn’t he?”

“Now why would he ever ask us to do that? It’s not like you two are an item or anything.” Kili chirped, recovered quickly from his throbbing achilleas. “No, no, we just want to take a stroll, escort you, see what you’ve been doing these past couple weeks. It’s as if you’re trying to avoid us by staying away.”

“Quite rude isn’t it brother? Avoiding us?” Fili shook his head, looking at her with woeful eyes.

Mistlynn groaned. At least it wasn’t that intimidating one, Balin’s younger brother Dwalin with his unreadable expressions. Or Nori, his head of security that she felt could see right through her. “Fine, fine, fine! You can accompany me until I get to my employment. I got a full day ahead of me and I don’t need you two marmots disturbing me.”

“What is a marmot?” Kili was baffled, but aware that it was meant to be insulting. Fili on the other hand heard something else entirely. “Employment? Why do you need employment, in the city of man no less?” Mistlynn rolled her eyes. The resemblance between uncle and nephew suddenly apparent.

“Because I need coin to survive. I just can’t live off your uncle’s hospitality now, can I? Come on, I don’t want to be late.”

************

Fili looked at the little rundown building with thinly veiled disgust. It was on the outskirts of Dale’s thriving market, in the part of the shiftier businesses frequented by those of less than savory character. He and Kili shared a look of apprehension before they followed her in. A short yet rotund man sat behind the counter in the back of the dark, musky front room. His greasy, greying mouse brown hair stuck to his balding head in thin tendrils that hung past his shoulders. His tunic was torn and stained in various places. He looked up and scowled as they walked in. His double chin wobbled as he hacked, spittle showering the top of the counter.

“Your late!” he wheezed. “You think those hides are going to tan themselves?”
The prince’s eyes flashed in anger. “Excuse me sir but what gives you the right to talk to the lady in such a grievous manner?” Fili seethed as he stepped forward, authority exuding from him.

“She is my employee; what business is it of yours?” The man spat back. “Now are you here to buy something? Otherwise get out!”

Mistlynn looked at them imploringly. “Please, you promised to not interfere with my employment.” She gritted through her teeth, her tone low.

“How much is he paying you a hide?” Fili demanded. Judging by his surroundings and state of the building, he already knew the answer.

“I get a bag of coin a day.” She hissed. “Now, please go!”

“A bag of what?! What kind of coin?” Kili stepped close to her, just as seething as his brother, who was glaring at the sputtering shopkeeper.

Mistlynn pulled a bag out of her pocket and shoved it into Kili’s hand. It was half full, and suspiciously light. Kili opened the bag and dumped the contents in his hand. His and Fili’s jaws clenched in rage as they saw 25 bronze coins laying dull in his palm. “A day? You get this per day? You should be getting this per hide, and those being poorly done!” Fili fumed. He looked up at her, eyes flashing. Mistlynn’s breath caught in her throat. She had never seen either Fili or Kili this mad before. He didn’t even think they were capable of it. “Show me what you’ve made so far.” Fili demanded.

The shopkeeper jumped down from his rickety stool. “Now see here you good for nothing rock licker…” The portly man found a sword tip aimed at his chest, and his eyes nearly popped from their eye sockets. Kili’s chest was heaving with anger. “Go brother, I got this slug handled.”

Mistlynn opened her mouth to protest but was grabbed by Fili and dragged into the backroom. “Show me.” He commanded, as he looked around in disgust.

Mistlynn felt her resolve crumble a bit. Surely, she had not caused some of her only friends in this place such insult. She pointed to a couple of the hides that were stacked neatly on her worktable, and Fili felt his breath leave his chest as he looked down on the leather works that were laid out, organized and pristine in presentation. “Mistlynn, you crafted all of this?” Fili breathed out, as he picked up a bracer and marveled at the skill shown in the piece.

“Y-yes.” She stammered, not sure what to make of what was happening.

Fili’s face darkened with a thunderous ire. Her eyes grew wide as he turned to face her. “This bracer alone should fetch you at least 10 silver coin. This is masterful work!”

Mistlynn looked at him blankly. “I don’t know the differences of coin, Fili. I thought silver was just for jewelry and hair beads.”

Fili’s laugh was not a humorous one as he started grabbing the items off her table and shoving them into the nearest bag. “We are taking these. He doesn’t deserve to even have you set foot in this rathole.” He growled.

Mistlynn stammered; she couldn’t really form words as she watched him grab all the leather armor that was obviously of her make, then quickly and briskly walked back out, her hand held firmly in his free one.

“Pay the snake Kili and we will be on our merry way.” Fili directed, keeping Mistlynn behind him as if trying to spare her shopkeepers mere presence.

“See here you thieves, that is my property, and you have no right to any of those pieces!” Kili kicked him back onto the stool, making the poor excuse of a man look up at him in surprise. “We have every bloody right you fool. And if you don’t want Thorin Oakenshield’s wrath to fall upon your disgusting head you will shut up and take this gold and forget we ever stepped foot in here.”

The man paled at the Mountain Kings name. Kili tossed a bag of gold coin at him. “Not like you deserve payment, taking advantage of one of our dams in such a sordid manner.”

The man swallowed and nodded stupidly. “Yes, master dwarf. Thank you.”

Kili growled in disgust as he followed his brother and Mistlynn out, making sure to slam the door for good measure.

Silence fell upon them, Mistlynn overwhelmed and shaken by the righteous anger displayed by her friends, while Fili and Kili spoke to each other in hushed and quick Khuzdul as they picked up and examined her work from the bag.

Mistlynn felt her own anger rise. “He was the only one to take me on!” She huffed. “Now what am I going to do? No one will take me now after that display!”

The princes both lifted their heads and looked at her in shock. “He was swindling you Mist! Don’t you understand that? He knew it to! You probably brought that vile excuse of a man more clients and money he has seen in a lifetime and was paying you next to nothing!” Fili disputed, his tone broking no argument.

“As your friends, and our uncles …” Kili started out, just as equally stern but trailed off, realizing his error, watching as Mistlynn’s eyebrows raised questioningly “Guest. His honorable guest, we cannot allow you to suffer such insolence.”
Fili looked at him incredulously. “Nice save men gorach. (idiot)” He whispered to his brother through the corner of his mouth.

“Well, I am not wrong! And you know it! I’m the only one who isn’t pussyfooting around it!” Kili growled back as he shoved one of Mistlynn’s bracers back into the bag.

Mistlynn threw up her hands in frustration. “Fine! Now what? Now what am I going to do? I have nothing. I won’t be able to stay here!”

“You want to live here in Dale?” Fili sputtered, horrified at the idea.

“Well, yes! I’m not one of your people. There is no place for me in Erebor, at least in Dale I would be close to you both and your mother and Balin.” She trailed off, her anger fizzling out and turning into resignation.

“Oh Mist. If you only knew.” Kili smiled gently. “Come on. Let us not spoil the day. Let’s show you the sights. And I promise we well help you find a commission for your trade INSIDE Erebor. Dwarves, Elves, and Men will be lined up for miles for your leather goods. You will not be worrying about coin ever again.”

“What about Luna?” finding a place that would accept her was her biggest stressor.

“What about her? She will be just fine, leave that to Uncle. I hear he even sneaks down there to see her. Even brings her treats. So does the rest of the company. Only them though I promise you.” Fili added the last part quickly, not wanting to alarm her with that tiny secret Thorin swore him to secrecy. ‘Ooops.’

“Are you joking?” Mistlynn gasped, shocked beyond belief.

“Nope. He’s very fond of your wolf. Even though he will never admit to it. Leave it to him, before long she will be the darling mascot of Erebor.”

Mistlynn felt her heart skip a couple beats at Kili’s words. It was hard for her to believe, but the thought of him showing Luna such affection made her gut twist and flutter.

“Enough of this. Let’s get on with that tour.” Fili adjusted the bag on his shoulder and held his arm out for her to take, Kili likewise holding out his other arm for her to hold as well. She found herself smiling as they led her down the cobbled street and began regaling tales of Dale and of the treasures that could be found there.

It wasn’t until later in the evening, when they decided to stop at the pub before heading back to Erebor, that she let Thorin sneak back effortlessly into her thoughts.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

“Wha’ do you call this stuff again?” Mistlynn hiccupped as she took another big gulp of her fizzy beverage.

“That would be apple cider my sweet friend.” Kili grinned. “I figured you would appreciate that more so than the stout ale.”

“It’ll git er tipsy quicker too ya jackanape!” Mistlynn and the prince’s jumped in surprise at the sound of Dwalin’s rough brogue.

There beside him stood some of the other dwarves she had met, though briefly, in the rather uncomfortable scene in the throne room. She tried to wipe that memory from her mind, and now they were here to ruin her attempt of doing so.

“I am a fully grown dam, Master Dwalin.” Mistlynn sniffed contemptuously, raising her eyebrows challengingly. “I can drink whatever I damn well please.”

Dwalin snorted through his nose as he looked down at her, returning her challenging glare. Bofur, Bifur, Gloin and Nori looked amongst themselves while snickering, not hiding the fact they were all in on some joke well known amongst them.

“Fiery lass aren’t ya?” The one with the winged hat laughed jovially. “I apologize we have not been properly introduced for you were too busy wreaking havoc the last time we saw each other. I am Bofur, and this is my dear cousin Bifur. He only speaks our tongue, battle injury and all. And these charming fellows with me are Gloin, Nori and last but not least Dwalin.”
Mistlynn smirked, liking the dwarf immediately. No one could have a smile like that and be untrustworthy. She took his offered hand and shook it heartily, while nodding respectfully to the other Dwarrow’s, that were still looking at her with ill-concealed mirth. “The pleasure is all mine, master dwarves. Will you be joining our table?”

“Of course, they will be.” Kili grinned. “Our esteemed comrades would be daft to forfeit the fun table.”

Nori snorted “Oh I wouldn’t be too sure of that my darling princeling. It all depends on the drink!”

“Ignore him lass.” Bofur grinned as he took a seat directly across from Mistlynn. “What are you enjoying there if you don’t mind me asking?”

MIstlynn smiled. “Apple cider.” She took another drink then smacked her lips. “Nice and fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy?” Dwalin grunted, looking at her with an odd expression.

“She’s never had spirits before this!” Fili smirked. “You should’ve seen her expression after her first sip of ale. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. So, we figured she would enjoy the cider more.”

Gloin and Nori chuckled, picking up their mugs that were placed in front of them and raising them in Mistlynn’s direction. “To the lass’s first drink!” Nori winked.

“May it be the first of many in our charming company.” Bofur cheered, holding his up as well, cueing them all to down the contents of their tankards in one go, much to Mistlynn’s delight. Her eyes sparkled merrily as she returned their salute and finished off hers.

**************

A few hours passed, conversation and drink flowed effortlessly. Mistlynn had warmed up significantly with the new members of their table, even Dwalin cracked a smile with her quick and witty comebacks to Bofur and the prince’s nonstop teasing.

“Tell me, if it is constant winter and you all don’t possess one drop of alcohol between the lots of you how do you stay warm at night?” Bofur’s eyes sparkled with mischief, grinning over the top of his tankard.

Mistlynn snorted in her own tankard “Oh we have ways Master Bofur that don’t require any help other than stamina, a hearty intake of water and some nice furs.”

The table was filled with snorts and loud guffaws as Bofur slapped the table, grinning wildly.

“Spitfire lass.” Gloin roared merrily while slapping Dwalin on the back while he snickered, his shoulders shaking with silent mirth.

Mistlynn giggled, pleased with the outcome of her somewhat tipsy shenanigans. She liked being tipsy, or fuzzy as she so fondly described it. These dwarves she originally found intimidating, amused her thoroughly as she now greatly enjoyed their company. All previous worries of the past few weeks were forgotten; she found herself in the company of friends she had never thought capable of having.

“Aww you are a breath of fresh air, am I right cousin?” Bofur chuckled, as he looked at Bifur. Bifur nodded eagerly and grunted animatedly as he spoke through signing.
Mistlynn, not catching on sooner that he signed, gasped with delight, and pushed her tankard away. She began signing towards Bifur, who’s eyes in turn grew wide with excitement and signed quicky with a response. Mistlynn’s laugh was a beautiful sound to all of them as she held a very lively conversation with Bifur. The others looked at her with even more fondness and respect, they had never seen a dwarrowdam communicate with Bifur before, let alone not even seem to notice the axe blade that was still lodged in his skull, partially covered with his greying hair.

“I didn’t know you could communicate with signing so well.” Fili smiled at her, speaking for the rest of the table.

“It is taught to us as dwarflings. It is imperative for us to communicate effectively and silently at times, especially when we are hunting. Is it not taught amongst your clans?”

“Well, for the most part we are though it is not required of the dwarrowdam’s and most do not show interest in learning it. They focus on other things more driven towards running a household or profession.”

Mistlynn’s smile faded slightly, as she signed something that looked like a question to Bifur. He smiled with a touch of melancholy and shook his head and signing a simple reply. Mistlynn shook her head and stood up, abruptly pushing her chair back. She steadied herself for a moment, the room slightly moving about as she stood on tingling legs and she walked over to Bifur, much to everyone’s surprise.

“Well, I’ll announce to everyone in this pub that I think you are a handsome warrior of a dwarf, and any dam should feel honored to have you as their partner in life.” She grabbed his face and gave him an energetic peck on his cheek. “You should be proud you carry with you the signs of your strength and bravery. Any dam to say otherwise is not worth your time or effort.”

Tears formed in his eyes, and he patted her hand that was still on his cheek fondly. The friends all cheered, raising their tankards in agreement. “Well said lass! A worthy warrior of any lass indeed.” Dwalin, much to her surprise spoke in agreement, obviously moved by seeing his dear friend, usually so strong yet quiet about his injury, moved nearly to tears.

Mistlynn moved back to her seat, using the table to steady her until she sat back down. “In my clan, it is the warriors our women fight over, the more scars and battle wounds the better! Otherwise, you’re not seen as ready to be wed and have a family. One must be strong to ensure a family's survival. You would be fought over Bifur, I would even wager several would fight for the honor of being your wife.” Bifur’s eyes twinkled, as he looked down shyly at his tankard before taking a drink.

“It’s strange how similar yet different our clans are.” Kili mused. “You're so secretive about your people, yet with each little piece of insight you give makes me eager to learn more.”

Mistlynn raised her eyebrow as she held up her tankard to the maiden tasked with refilling drinks. “I am selective of the information I give for I do not trust you and your brother to not be agents seeking information for the benefit of your king, my dear princely friend.”

Kili gasped, as if hurt while Fili stuck out his bottom lip petulantly. “You wound us Mist. We are your friends first and foremost.”

Nori laughed. “If our dear king wanted to know about your kingdom, he would be asking you himself.”

“Speaking of our King, when is he to be joining us?” Gloin asked nonchalantly.

No one missed it when Mistlynn, mid gulp sputtered into her cup, coughing as she choked on her fizzy drink. They all smirked, looking at each other knowingly.

“Well, ‘e informed me tha ‘e would be join’n us ‘ere after ‘is last council meetin. Trade routes an the like.” Dwalin drawled, hiding his smirk in his tankard.

Mistlynn composed herself, wiping the tears from her eyes and she struggled to regain her breathing as close to normal before standing up abruptly. “Well Master Dwarves, looks like the hour has come for me to bid you a good evening. I must be on my way to see Luna; she will be expecting me.”

“Oi, not so fast there! We have to walk you back.” Fili protested, setting his tankard down with a heavy ‘clunk’.

“Yeah, Uncle will have our hides if you walk back unaccompanied at this hour.” Kili added, looking incredulous at her suggestion of leaving alone.

“Well, I’ve been unaccompanied for the past several weeks, so I don’t see the need for such adjustments now.” She groused, adjusting herself before standing up taller. “I bid you a good night. Thank you for the pleasantries of your company.” With that she promptly turned on her heel and walked, focused on walking with a confident, steady air and not to give in to the swaying stagger her body felt like exhibiting.

As she approached the door, another patron sitting at the bar near the door leered at her. “Hey there darlin, leaving so soon?” he crooned, while reaching out and grabbing her arm and pulling her closer to him.

Mistlynn looked at him shocked. “What gives you the impression that you can put your hands on me?”

His hand moved quickly from the small of her back to her butt, squeezing her roughly. “Oh, don’t play so hard to get, I can tell youre the type who wants a real man to show her who her master is.”

Mistlynn didn’t hear the sound of chairs being tossed back as her companions jumped to their feet. She grinned broadly, fluttering her eyelashes demurely as she leaned closer to him. “Let me tell you a little secret.” She purred, making him lean in eagerly. Her fist met his jaw with a loud crack of flesh and bone, and he found himself rocketing backwards, hitting the bar as he caught himself with his arms before he could crash to the ground.
Mistlynn growled, glaring down at the man as her dwarven companions where instantly at her side, fuming at the audacity of the drunken man.

“Your fortunate she got to you before we did!” Fili spat, his eyes flashing with rage. The man spat out blood onto the floor and slowly stood up, bringing himself and his comrades to their full height. Mistlynn and the dwarves found themselves looking up at 5 enraged men who towered over them, clenching their teeth and fists ready and eager for a fight.

“Well, I’ll hand it to ya lass, ya sure know how ta pick em.” Dwalin growled as he rolled his shoulders and neck, preparing himself for the inevitable brawl.

“No kidding Mist. They are the biggest men in here.” Kili grumbled as he and Fili tried to grab and pull her behind their group.

Mistlynn growled, pulling her arm free of Kili’s grasp. “You know what they say the bigger they are the harder they fall.”

****************

*Thorin*

It had been a peaceful, uneventful walk. The council meeting had dragged on for hours, not that he had paid attention to the insufferable bickering of the counselors. When Dwalin told him they were meeting up for drinks later that evening he agreed to go. It would be good to get out and away from his duties. He needed some perspective from outside the mountain.

As he neared the pub, he heard the faint sound of yelling and wood splintering and glass shattering. The heavy door flew open, and some drunk men stumbled out, eager for escape. “Damn dwarves.” One of them slurred drunkenly as he stumbles off into the darkened streets.

Alarmed, he rushed towards the door and yanked it open. Inside was complete mayhem. His friends were in the middle of a full throwdown, with four of the tallest men he had seen here in Dale. His nephews were brawling with an even bigger brute. He watched in shock as Fili was thrown across the room while with his other arm pinned Kili to the top of the table.

He hears a fierce cry “Let go of him you lummox!” Mistlynn jumped from the top of the bar counter and onto the back of the man, gripping him into a lethal chokehold. Kili lasheed out, kicking the guy in the gut making him stumble back. The man let out a choked growl and managed to get enough force to throw her over his shoulders and into a charging Fili, making them crash into a table and breaking it.

“ENOUGH” Thorin roared across the bar. Instantly the bar fell silent except for the few remaining tankards falling to the ground and shattering. “Sar em Gabura! What do you think you are doing? Dwarves! We are leaving! Master Barkeep, I apologize for the imposition. Take this as a token of my apologies.” Thorin threw a satchel of coins larger than Mistlynn had ever seen on the closest table, while giving all in their party a deep glowering look of anger. “Let’s go. NOW!”

Searing satisfaction flashed across Mistlynn’s face as she saw the face of the man who groped her, broken and bruising. “That will be painful for weeks.” She thought smugly to herself as she sauntered past him, a smirk on her lips, looking him up and down while walking past.

Thorin is the last to leave, slamming the pub door closed. He gestures sharply for them to walk a ways down the street, following behind them like a thunderous raincloud. Mistlynn and his friends look at each other before they hear Thorin cursing under his breath. “Makk an E ha’ak!” he seethed before stopping and looking at them expectantly. “What was that in there? Are you trying to undo months of treaties I’ve fought to secure?! I would have never expected this behavior from the lot of you! Especially you Dwalin! Gloin?!”

It was Dwalin who stepped forward before Gloin could fire back his retort. “We ‘ad no choice! Tha beardless sack of warg shite grabbed er ass! So we put em in their place!”

Thorin froze, his posture turning rigid while his eyes darkened with a deep running ire. “He did what?” His tone quiet yet deadly.

Kili wiped blood away from his busted lip with the back of his hand. “Bastard tried to proposition her and when she said no, he grabbed her.” Kili growled.

Thorin looked at his comrades, all of them nodding their heads while cursing under their breath about Mistlynn’s honor being fought for. He looked over at her, seeing her face flushed a deep red. If it was from the adrenaline of the fight or from embarrassment of being handled inappropriately, it didn’t matter to him, that man deserved to have his hand removed for even daring to touch her. A rage welled up deep within, a feeling he hadn’t felt since his battle with Azog when he had watched him attempt to run Fili through and throw his from the cliff to his death.
He turned abruptly and started to stalk back towards the pub. Mistlynn gasped and jumped in front of him, placing her hands firmly on his chest. “No! There is no need! You took care of him already!”

“No need? He dared lay his hand on you!” He seethed.

Mistlynn couldn’t hide the frustration and confusion that flashed across her face. “I defended myself, I don’t need you to step in!”

Thorin’s nostrils flared with surging anger, her nonchalant attitude about being groped by a filthy barfly infuriated him. It was as if it was a daily occurrence, something to shrug away and dismiss. The audacity this dam possessed, not letting him defend her honor was driving him mad. “You were supposed to be making sure she was alright, not taking her to unsavory pubs.” He spat as he turned to his nephews, needing to project his ire on someone other than the vixen standing resolutely before him.

“It was hardly an unsavory pub.” Kili argued irritably. “We were having a grand time until he stepped out of line.”

“Who do you think you are? Telling me where I can and cannot go?” Mistlynn seethed.

He pointedly ignored her and tried to storm off, angering her even more as she rushed to keep up with him, baiting him with more demands.

Fili and Kili looked uncertain as they watched her run off after their uncle. They look back at their friends, who were merely shaking their heads.

“Worry not lads. It’s all part of it. Figuring one another out. Laying out the boundaries.” Gloin assured them. “You should’ve seen Gemlinn and I when we first started courtin.”

“They are not courting yet!” Fili objected. Bofur, Bifur and Nori all laugh as Gloin patted Fili on the shoulders.

Dwalin just rolled his eyes. “Young pups.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, Auntie and Uncle are just having a little spat. They will work it out soon!” Bofur snickered as he wiggled his brows suggestively.

***********

Mistlynn stepped in front of him. “What gives you the right to dictate what I can and cannot do?! Why do you keep ignoring me!” She hissed, cutting him off his escape path.

Thorin’s eyes darkened as he looked down at her, his chest heaving as he leaned down closer to her. “I have every right. Including not having to acknowledge your questions.” He growled, his voice deep and dark, making her shiver at his tone.

“I am not one of your subjects you can boss around!” She stomped her foot forcefully into a shallow puddle while poking him in the chest with her finger for emphasis.

“If I say you are not to go out then you are forbidden to do so!” He stepped forward, as if daring her to push her finger in even deeper into his muscular chest.

“I will do as I please!” she shrieked while trying to ignore the involuntary shudder that ran down her spine at his predatory glare that held her in place.

She didn’t have a chance to react as he grabbed her arms quickly, picking her up and slamming her against the back of the building as if she weighed nothing. She felt the rough, damp stone of the wall seep through her shirt, making her body tremble. It took her a second to realize just how close he was to her. His chest pressed firmly against her, his body heat seeping into her chest and belly making her heart pound rapidly in complete synchronization with his.

His scent was distinctive and intoxicating, mixed notes of heady warmth, earthy tobacco, and the smoking embers of a fire; along with something unknown to her, masculine was the only word that she could think of.
Her eyes trailed from his slightly parted lips to his eyes, stormy and dark with anger and something she couldn’t name. She had seen what lust does to the eyes, she saw the effects of it in the eyes of the brute from the pub, but this was something akin to deep emotion, raw and powerful.
She found it hard to swallow, her breath catching at the intensity of his gaze and aura. His hands gripped her wrists firmly, holding her steady, as if she would be capable of walking away from him in this moment, when she couldn’t even form a single cohesive thought.

“You're so bloody infuriating.” He rumbled through his chest, his tone deeper than she thought possible.

She raised her chin higher, trying to maintain a defiant air; truthfully, she was struggling to keep her wits about her. “Only for you.” It was a hushed whisper, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt his nose brush hers, their lips hovering.
He let out a distraught growl before he crashed his lips upon hers, demanding and passionate as he stole her breath away from her. One hand moved from her wrist to her face, his thick fingers tangling into her wild silvery locks, forcing her head to tilt and allow him to deepen their kiss.

This kiss was unlike anything she had ever experienced, making fire sear through her body to create a molten pool between her legs as he devoured her, her knees threatening to buckle at any moment as she whimpered with pleasure and need. Her free hand slipped over his muscular shoulders and into his thick wavy mane, pulling and grounding herself closer wantonly. It was overwhelming, the ravenous intensity of craving to claim all of him, as if she was intoxicated with his very heady essence.

In an instant, his hands were gripping her hips and raising her up, causing her legs to instinctively part and wrap around his waist. Their kisses became frantic, knowing that time stood against them. Thorin's strong hands caressed her hips, then slid up under her shirt to cup the curve of her breasts, making Mistlynn shamelessly moan into his mouth as if begging him to give her more. Her fingers clench around his neck while moving her wet kisses down his throat and back up to his lips, encouraging Thorin to rock her into the wall, triggering her back to arch into his hard erection where she so desperately needed him most.

Suddenly, Thorin pulled back to rest his forehead against hers. Her eyes flutter open to see that his are still shut tightly. “Thorin.” She whispered softly, moving her hand to cup his jaw while she nuzzled her nose against his. He slowly opened his hypnotic eyes, and she was caught off-guard with the intensity of affection and terror that was a tempest in his crystal blue depths.

He leaned into her palm as he let out a few ragged breaths, savoring the feeling of her warm fingers brushing against his tingling skin, stroking his bearded cheek with the most intimate touch he had ever felt. He swallowed thickly as he gently lowered her back onto unsteady legs He raised a hand to cup the back of hers, grasping it gently to remove it from his face and back to her side. He squeezed her hand, as if desperately trying to ground himself before letting out a low growl as his eyes snapped shut, effectively closing her off from seeing his inner demons that were threatening to pull him under. He pulled back swiftly as he turned quickly on his heel and stormed off into the night before Mistlynn could register what had happened.

She was left reeling and trembling against the cold stone of the wall. Her senses became heightened to the point of dizzying clarity. The sound of water dripping into the puddles gathered along the cobblestone alleyway echoed deafeningly around her as his intoxicating smell faded, overtaken by the smell of rain, damp earth, and stale ale mixed with other vile liquids that flooded her nostrils. It made it seem as if he had been a ghost, that he had never been there at all.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9

*Mistlynn*

She sighed as she put down the breastplate she was currently working on. She was now located in her new workstation in Erebor, just like Fili and Kili had promised. The Tannery she now had was nothing like the one in Dale, she had every tool she could imagine working with and was able to choose what she made more freely.

Dis had given her a stern lecture on trusting men and selling herself too short. After the events in Dale, she realized just how much she didn’t know about this world. She knew her knowledge was limited but she never realized it was that limited. She tried not to feel like such a fool for being taken advantage of like she was. After much debating, even though she knew she needed the knowledge she couldn’t help but still be stubborn, she finally gave in to Dis and Balin’s wishes and agreed to let Balin and Ori teach her the necessary knowledge and history of Arda and all its kingdoms. She knew she needed to learn in order to survive in this new way of life.

The other dwarves were welcoming, far more so than she had expected them to be. The dwarves of Erebor were happy and content, their businesses were flourishing and their home nearly rebuilt to its former glory before Smaug’s inhabitance. She was now allowed to have Luna at her side, it may have taken a few days, but the fear quickly turned into awe and curiosity. Luna had always been a ham, and sensing her owners ease she took full advantage of the ear scratches and endless parade of treats.
She did her classes with Balin and Ori in the mornings learning the history of Arda before working down in the tannery and then spending time in the evenings with Luna. Mistlynn found herself getting comfortable, and in a steady routine much to her dismay. She stayed busy, never idle for long. But it was in the moments in-between that she found herself thinking about him and what happened between them that night.

It had been two weeks since their kiss and Mistlynn did whatever she could to try and forget it ever happened. A moment of weakness was all it was, she kept telling herself. It was becoming a very pathetic daily mantra. It was an imposition that could not happen again, yet as soon as she thought about that night, heat immediately pooled between her legs and the longing for more rose through her body in a way she had never felt yet desired so badly. She shouldn't be wanting this; nothing would ever come of it.

She locked her knees together trying to think of anything to make it stop ‘Fili and Kili’s ale bellies shaking in the pub!’ She closed her eyes, trying to summon up the imagine in her mind.
Except Fili had his uncles disarming blue eyes and that one dimpled cheek, while Kili possessed that smile she knew he hid so well. They had the same brows, the same lips. ‘Oh, may the Valar deliver my soul from this hell.’ She was beginning to suspect the Line of Durin was to be her undoing.

Before her mind could wander back to the feel of Thorin’s mouth against hers; the radiating heated memory of his big hands wrapping around her waist, rolling her back against the cold stone wall making her want nothing more than to rip the clothing from their bodies. Desperately, she thought of the most repulsing thing she could,
“My ex-employer, dancing naked on the pub tables while pouring cider down his front.’ She shuddered, revulsion making her eye twitch. "Yes, that will do it.”

She had been so caught up in her thoughts she didn’t hear Dis approaching, nor notice Luna moving from her favorite spot on the floor to meet Dis with her happy tail wagging in greeting. Dis scratched Luna’s ears as she observed Mistlynn’s faraway expression. “My, my, someone is off skipping in their daydreams today.” She teased, her voice making Mistlynn jump and clutched her chest with her hand.

“I thought you were supposed to be a seasoned warrior. For shame, I didn’t even try to sneak in.” Dis laughed as she patted her friend soothingly on her shoulders. “What has you in such turmoil, my dear?”

“Oh, nothing of importance. Just a lot on my mind. A lot has changed in just the past couple weeks.”

Dis’s sky blue eyes sparkled mischievously. “Uh huh. Yes, its most definitely the change of scenery that has you in the clouds. It couldn’t be anything to do with a certain brother of mine,”

Mistlynn let out an audible gasp of shock while Dis just smirked at her “You forget I have eyes and ears everywhere. I’ve been waiting for you to confide in me these past weeks, but my patience has worn out. But that is not why I am here today so I will give you a little more time before I pry harder.” She said with a wink.

Mistlynn groaned as she got out of her chair and pushed it up under her worktable. “You really should get another project Dis. I’m really quite dull.”

“Sweetie, you're clothing is the only thing dull around here, not you.” Dis smiled. “Which brings me to exactly why I’m here. I ordered a collection of dresses for you from Dori; they have arrived and been placed in your room. I’d like to help you pick one for the dinner tonight. My cousin Dain Ironfoot of the Iron Hills has just arrived today and is eager to meet your acquaintance.”

“Oh Dis, I really don’t feel like going.” Mistlynn averted her eyes as she started to walk, Luna following briskly alongside her. “I appreciate all of the thought and effort going into those dresses, but I am not built for beautiful gowns. Is there another time I can be introduced to him? Training grounds perchance?”

Dis rolled her eyes while grimacing in exaggerated pain. “Mistlynn, that is the beauty of having a seamstress and tailor take your measurements like I did, these gowns will fit you impeccably. I will not allow you to hide out any longer. You are a princess and as your host it is my prerogative to introduce you to everyone formally.”

“Exiled. I am an exiled princess. Hardly anyone of note.” Mistlynn grumbled petulantly.

The friends walked in silence for a few moments. Mistlynn was just desperate to let Luna out to take care of her business and then return to her room and the books Ori had lent her. She snuck a look over at Dis. It was incredible how nearly identical her and Thorin were. She loved and appreciated Dis, but it sometimes made a pang of loss and sadness shoot through her when she looked at her friend.

Dis knew what her friend was thinking. And she was bound and determined to bring her stubborn, grumpy goat of a brother and her hard headed friend together, to finally bring an end to weeks of tension and pining.

Little did her brother and friend know, she was in cahoots with the entirety of her brothers original dwarven company, she had even roped in her cousin Dain. They had been thick as thieves as children, since they were closer in age, and he was just as eager as Dis to see Thorin settled down and happy at last. They had been exchanging raven’s for weeks now, and he was very much eager to come to their assistance.
Dwalin had the perfect plan to draw Thorin out, since he was convinced it was Thorin’s stoic and cold demeanor that kept Mistlynn from truly bonding with him.
Dwalin, Bofur, Gloin, and her sons had given her the full account of what happened that night at the pub in Dale. And she had been inclined to agree with his conclusion. They couldn’t keep allowing them to avoid one another. They had to be pushed together in every circumstance possible.
The dresses were just the beginning of drawing her brother’s eye. He wouldn’t be able to ignore her dressed in these gowns. And neither would any other dwarf in the dining hall, as Bofur had so eloquently pointed out. She was going to stand out like the Arkenstone in a sea of sapphire, emerald and rubies. And if Dis knew her brother, he was not the sharing type. Mistlynn attracting the admiration of other male dwarves would force his hand. He would be a force to be reckoned with. Dis smirked. Their plan was coming along nicely.

****************************

Later that night…

Mistlynn couldn’t tear her eyes off of her reflection.. She struggled to find the right words to describe this gown. Seeing herself in such a gown made her feel exposed and vulnerable, almost unworthy of wearing such a piece of art. She ran her hands down the front of the skirt, enjoying the feel of the silken material, tracing the crystals with trembling fingers. She didn’t like herself in a dress.
She didn’t even recognize herself. Instead, Dis had helped her with darkening her eyelashes so that their true length and thickness was on full display, framing her unique eyes by enhancing their sea green color. Her high cheekbones were dusted with a slight rose blush, and her full rosebud lips were glossy with a luxurious lip oil.
“I feel like an imposter in my own body. This isn’t me Dis.” She fought to keep her breathing under control. It had occurred to her that Thorin was going to be present at the dinner, and it made her stomach flutter as if full of moths.

Dis was standing behind her, her hands clasped, pleased with her handiwork. “Oh nonsense! You are breathtaking! I barely used any makeup; this is your natural beauty just enhanced a smidge.” She ran her hands once again through her friend’s hair, trying to comfort her. “Just hold your chin high like that mighty warrior princess you are. This dress is supposed to add to your confidence, to embellish your power. You are a truly beautiful woman. Don’t be ashamed of that. Show it proudly, what your mother and your grandmothers have bestowed upon you. That is their greatest gift to you.”

Mistlynn swallowed her the nervous energy that was threatening to bubble up and overtake her. “And I must say I am truly envious of your amazing figure, slender yet curvy all wrapped up in the perfect package. I took after my Adad’s side of the family rather than my Amad’s.” Dis sighed dramatically as she came to stand beside her.
Dis was taller than Mistlynn by a couple inches, and her hourglass shape was fully flaunted in the dark blue gown enhanced by polished onyx stones sewn on the bust and skirt. She was a vision of the deepest sapphire twilight, the icy blue eyes she shared with her brother amplified by their house colors.
Mistlynn was pure starlight, glowing and radiant with her graceful yet unyielding figure. She knew full well that Thorin wasn’t going to know what hit him, and that most, if not all, Mistlynn’s anxiety was from the prospect of seeing Thorin while dressed in such a fashion.

Mistlynn shifted nervously, feeling the awkward heeled slippers on her feet while fervently missing the comfort of her boots. She couldn’t look Dis in the eyes, even if was through the reflection of the mirror. She knew that she could read her like a book. She had never had a mother, let alone a sister figure in her life.
Her mom had died in childbirth her younger brother, and she only just turned 10 years when that happened. Her father had been heartbroken, and he never fully recovered from losing her. He never remarried and never spoke of her. They didn’t have the paintings to capture the likeliness of loved ones like they did here. She just knew that her and her twin brother Valinn had taken after her, which explained her father’s aloofness, with her especially. He threw all his attention to her older twin and her younger brother.
She had to learn to keep up with her brothers to get just a moment of her father’s attention, and that meant she had to be able to outfight, outhunt, outshoot anyone and everyone just to have him look upon her as if she was not the living ghost of her mother. Even if gowns had been the normal attire in the White Kingdom, she knew she would have avoided wearing them at all costs, to spare her father that pain.

And now with Thorin in the picture, she wasn’t sure how this was going to come across to him, dressing up in such a fashion. “Dis, can I put on a gown that is simpler? I feel as if this is a little inappropriate given the circumstances.”

Dis could not hide her shock. “Oh Mistlynn, I would never lead you astray when it comes to what is appropriate! Trust me, this gown is perfect to introduce you formally.” Her eyes gained a glint of mischievousness. “Besides, I know my brother is going to appreciate the distraction from the normal dinner politics.”

Mistlynn flushed. “That is exactly what I am afraid of. I don’t want him even aware of my presence.”

Dis threw her head back and laughed. “Even if you were dressed in a potato sack his eyes would find you in a crowded room. You are the only dam I’ve seen draw his eye and attention the way you do.”

Mistlynn’s blush deepened. “I can’t do this Dis … I…” She was interrupted by a sharp but cheery knock at the door.

“That would be my sons, here to escort us.” Dis smiled while grabbing her friend’s hand and leading her to the door. “You will be just fine, Mist. I promise you. You will have your friends surrounding you, you will not be left alone.”

Mistlynn nodded, still not fully convinced. Dis opened the door to show Fili and Kili standing tall and handsome in some of their best attire, Durin’s blue with black breaches and polished black boots, They were smiling broadly, eager for the evening’s frivolities. “Amad, you look beautiful as always.” Fili grinned while Kili took his mom’s hand and kissed the back of it lovingly.
When their eyes landed on Mistlynn, their smiles faded as their mouths opened in awe. “Mist … You look…” Fili stammered,

“Stunning.” Kili finished for his brother. They both looked quickly at their mom, respect and humor evident with a shared mischievous look that was apparently a trait shared with their mother. ‘Well done!” Kili grinned.

“Amad, you are brilliantly evil.” Fili praised, as he held his arm out for Mistlynn to grasp.

Dis laughed fondly as she looped her arm through Kili’s. “I don’t know what it is your insinuating, but I’ll take the reverence all the same.”

Mistlynn linked her arm through Fili’s as she took a deep breath, trying to steady her rapid heartbeat. He looked at her encouragingly as he led her out of the room after his mom and brother. “You truly look beautiful Mist. I want you to relax and enjoy yourself. Dain is a lot of fun.”

Mistlynn tried to laugh but it came out as nervous huff. “Enjoy myself. You better not leave me alone or I swear on the Valar, I will pummel you in the training ring.”

Fili laughed merrily. “Lest you forget my dear Uncle has forbidden you from partaking in any sparring until you gain his trust, since someone has the tendency to hold innocent dwarves at knifepoint.”

Dis and Kili start snickering as they walk ahead of them. “Oh, I can think of a couple different ways you can gain Uncle’s … trust as it were.” The young prince teased, making Dis laugh louder and Mistlynn scowl while shooting glares at the back of their heads. As she glared, they knew and they didn’t care.

************************

*Thorin*

“We might want to consider giving Mirkwood aid to clear out the diseased trees and eradicate those loathsome creatures.” Balin was giving him a pointed look. He couldn’t help but shiver slightly at the thought of those cursed spiders. “There have been reports of seeing them lingering near the borders of their forests and our lands.

“They wouldn’t move without the shelter of the forest.” He growled only to pause as he second guessed himself. “Would they?”

Balin shook his head. “I don’t know laddie. They have traveled to these lands from dark, menacing places. As the darkness grows, so will the influence.”

“I am loathe to reach out to Gandalf about this, but I feel like we are running out of options. Thranduil is stretched thin trying to clear those forests. He all but said so in our last meeting.”

Balin’s lips were pressed into a thin line. “Better for us to get ahead of this before it becomes a bigger problem. We don’t want to be caught off-guard, especially since we are the stronghold of the North.”

As Thorin started to reply to Balin, he heard the dining hall go quiet around him. He turned his head towards the massive stone staircase, seeing Dis and Kili enter the dinner hall first but then the whole room went still as he gazed upon the dam behind his sister, being escorted by Fili. She drew the very air from his lungs causing his heart to skip in a way he had never felt. He heard Balin chuckle faintly accompanied by a firm pat on his shoulder. He knew that Thorin was enraptured by her exotic beauty, and all other talk of politics was a lost cause. “We will continue this at a later time.” His eyes twinkled knowingly, seeing the starstruck look on Thorin’s face before he walked off in search of his other companions.

Mistlynn’s hair was down in tamed curls cascading like a pale waterfall down her back. The top portion of her hair was braided intricately and wrapped as if it were a crown. Her dress was of the palest blue threaded with silver embroidery with crystals sowed in intricate patterns, like a beautiful piece of art that shimmered and glistened like the heavens on a cold winter’s morning. Her figure was normally hidden by the bulk of her leather trousers, thick shirt, and whalebone corset. In this gown, her waspish curves were flaunted in the most graceful way. Her ample chest tapered down into her petite yet strong waist, showing how her torso was longer than the typical dam, which added to the slope and curve of her bounteous hips and butt from all the muscle she had built in her relentless years as life of a fighter.
The curve of her breasts were fully displayed to show her alabaster skin was perfectly complimented by the gown color. Her loose hair softened her features in a more angelic form; her usual choice of kohl liner contrasting her glittering green eyes was absent which made him notice the small touches Dis must have added. It didn’t take away from her natural beauty, rather it amplified it. He knew from the very first moment he saw her that she was beautiful, even when she had been beaten and bruised. But in that dress, with her hair and makeup done just so, she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.
He didn’t even realize that he was up and walking towards her, as if in a dream. He saw no one else but her, all voices drowned out, leaving only the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, it had been weeks since had seen her. Before he could reach out his hand to touch hers, someone stepped directly in front of him, breaking him abruptly from his reverie.

He blinked, and all his senses came roaring back as if he was no longer submerged underwater. He blinked, his outstretched hand returned to his side stiffly and becoming a fist. It was Dain; his ostentatious, boisterous, insufferable cousin. The most annoying trifecta that had plagued him since they were dwarflings, running around these halls attempting to wreak havoc under his father and grandfather’s nose.

“Well now. I’ve been chomping at the bit to meet you lass.” Dain was grinning from ear to ear, as he bowed to Mistlynn. She smiled brightly and curtsied gracefully while still holding onto Fili’s arm.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She holds her free hand out in greeting, making Dain grin even wider.

“Och Lass, we are practically family no need for such civilities.” He pulled her into energetic embrace, freeing Fili from her deathlike grip.

Thorin’s jaw clenched as he watched the exchange, willing himself not to tear her from Dain’s arms, knowing that if he did so his true feelings would be exposed to everyone. “Where is Sindri?" He growled, hinting at the fact that Dain had a wife and he needed to back away from his future queen. The thought of her being his queen threw him back, ‘Where did that come from?’ He thought to himself. This sudden, aggressive possessiveness startled him. But he couldn’t bring himself to fight or question it. It was devouring him like a fed flame. Just a moment in her presence and every bit of resolve he had has now disappeared.

“THORIN! There ye are ye ole bastard!” He exclaimed as he placed Mistlynn on her feet ever so carefully and then wrapped his massive hands around Thorin’s fist. “You’ve aged terrible cousin; the gray is takin over yer mane…what’s yer secret?”

Just as Thorin was about to come back with his own snide remark he felt a soft touch to his shoulder “ I am right here Thorin, it is so good to see you dear cousin, it has been far too long.” Thorin turned slowly with a smirk teasing the side of his mouth. Sindri embraced Thorin in a chaste hug before giving him a small peck on the cheek, causing Mistlynn’s breath to catch as a small stir of misplaced jealousy curled in her belly. “The grey makes you look so distinguished and regal.”

Mistlynn felt her envy coil tighter, snaking up into her throat threatening to choke her as she heard a profound laugh rumble loudly from his chest, a lively, heartfelt smile flashed across his face, She couldn’t help the thought that she wished he could laugh with her in that way, that she was the source of giving him something to laugh about.
Despite that, she found herself smiling. His laugh was that contagious. She heard Dain grumble good naturedly and looked over at the fiery redheaded Lord who was watching his cousin and wife with fondness filling his eyes. “Och now, wife! You should be saying such pretty words to me, not this pompous King of blithering hotheads.”

Thorin crossed his arms across his chest, still grinning at Dain’s feigned insult. “You're one to talk.”

“Oh, I’ve graced you with plenty of pretty words these last 70 years of marriage, not to mention the brood of dwarflings I’ve given ya.” Sindri tsked, giving her husband a teasing look.

Mistlynn leaned over to whisper in Fili’s ear, who was laughing along with everyone else on the pleasant banter unfolding in front of them. “Are they always like this? You're formal dinners?”

Fili smirked, his eyes twinkling at her. “Lord Dain is always a load of fun, but just wait until the ale starts flowing.”

Dis walked up from where she was visiting to embrace Dain than Sindri in a gracious hug. “I’ve missed you both. So glad you could make it.”

“Where is your younger pup of son?” Dain chuckles, eager to tease his younger cousin about his love life.

Dis sniffs with fake disapproval. “Oh, he found Tauriel and flounced off with her somewhere. You know, as one's who are drawn to one another do when they aren’t fighting their pull.” She gave her brother a pointed look, making everyone but Mistlynn and Thorin chuckle.
Mistlynn looked between Dis and Thorin in confusion. She kept hearing certain hints and words being dropped in a very passive aggressive manner but was oblivious to what they meant. They had been directed towards her and Thorin, she was sure that they all knew about their night behind the pub. That had to be what they were alluding to but at the same time she felt as though they had a deeper meaning in their tones, she just didn’t know what it could be.

Thorin’s response to his sister was a snarky one. “What was that dear sister? I couldn’t hear a word you said over that infernal whining pitch coming from your mouth.”

Dis laughed raucously. “Oh, bring it on brother. I’ve been waiting for a good roasting spar.”

Thorin smirked at his sister, nodding towards her while cocking his eyebrow. “Be careful what you wish for.” He then turned towards Mistlynn holding out his hand to her. Her eyes widen in surprise. “Would you accompany me to our seats?

********************

*Mistlynn*

She nodded quickly, masking her surprise with a polite indifference. “Of course.” She took his hand, unprepared for the bolts of current that tingled sharply through her body as their hands touch. She looked up into his eyes and saw that he had felt something as well although she wasn’t sure what it meant. He cleared his throat and nodded towards the head of their table.

As he escorted her towards their seats, she felt hundreds of eyes fall upon her, Whispers moved throughout the crowd as they passed, the guests bowing their heads in respect and honor towards their King. Her heart was beating rapidly like a frightened bird trying to escape the trap that was her ribcage. She had been around hundreds of people before, but never as exposed as this becoming ever more aware of how her dress accentuated all the features, the one's she loathed the most, proving to her even more why she never wore gowns.

Thorin led her to a seat closer to his than she originally anticipated. She was seated in-between Dis and Fili, with Balin on the other side while she was facing Dain, Sindri, Kili and Dwalin. The rest of the dwarves she recognized as some of Thorin’s original company sat in seats of honor as well, all within talking distance from one another. Everyone stood waiting for Thorin to sit down, and as soon as he did, she heard hundreds of chairs scratching the stone floors as everyone sat down, eager to dig into the food.

She sat back and observed everything around her. Everyone at the table were talking to each other in good spirits, laughing and joking around as they enjoyed good food and drink. This feast was unlike any other she had ever attended. Her people would gather around large fires and share their kills on the firepit. But never had she seen this level of playfulness and comradery. She knew that Dis and the princes were close to the King, that he considered and treated his original company that helped him take back Erebor as family, but she was surprised how close he seemed to be with his cousin Dain and his wife as well. Normally cousins were seen as a threat to one's power and were in constant competition in the White Kingdom.
Argos had been her only kin she was truly close to. Her father kept his distance from her out of grief, and Valinn she kept away out of necessity. He had always been competitive, not the normal kind of sibling rivalry but she felt like if he ever had a chance to truly hurt her, he would take it.
She had never witnessed a large family group interact in such a loving, jovial way. She never realized just how much she craved that kind of family life. It was something she had never experienced and all she wanted was more of it. That feeling terrified her as much as she craved it. There had to be a catch; there had to be something that she was missing.
All her life she had been told that they were the Kingdom that was above all the rest, both in intellect and morality. It was in that very moment she started to realize that she had been misled, she had been lied to. In that moment her world seemed to spiral, how could everything she know be a lie?

Dis looked over at her friend, concern evident in her eyes at the expression that was now on her face. Mistlynn looked troubled, eyes focused unseeingly on her plate that was barely touched while her breathing became shallow and rapid. Dis looked and nodded pointedly at her companions seated closest to her. Thorin shifted in his seat, ready to escort her out if need be and eradicate whatever it was that was causing her such distress but It was Sindri that acted first.
“So Mistlynn, my dear, I hear that your kingdom hails from farther north. I’ve always wondered what it was like, being next to the ice ocean?”

Mistlynn blinked, coming out of her chaotic thoughts. She looked up to see Sindri smiling gently at her. “I’m sorry? I fear my mind was wandering. What was your question?” she blushed in embarrassment, horrified that she had let herself get that distracted.
“Oh, don’t fret. I was just asking what your kingdom was like. I’ve always wanted to see the ice ocean and the giant mountains of ice that float in it. I’ve heard about the giant sea creatures that live up there as well that are seen nowhere else.”

Mistlynn smiled slightly while nodding in acknowledgment. “I must confess I miss being so close to the ocean, I miss the sound of the waves and smell of the sea. Whales are the creatures you are speaking of. They are gentle giants really, there are the sea wolves though that hunt and act much like the wolves you know on land.”

As soon as she was done speaking, she realized she had their entire tables attention. Even Oin had his ear trumpet directed towards her.

“What is it like, livin in constant winter? How dinnae survive such a climate?” It was Dain’s turn to draw her out, his eyes keen on her.

She paused, thinking about how much she should share, but she was at the point where she didn’t feel the need to protect her kingdom anymore. She had been lied to, there was no denying that. Why should she keep the truth from these people who have shown her nothing but friendship and kindness? She picked up her goblet and took a big, unladylike gulp before setting it back down with firm resolution.

“We never stay in one place long. We move, following our herds of reindeer to their grazing grounds. In that time, we also fish, hunt small game and gather roots and berries during our short summer seasons. Between the ice bears and the frost drakes that are constantly hunting us we don’t get a lot of down time as it were.”
She finishes the last of her wine from her goblet in one more big drink and passes it towards Fili. “Could you refill this for me please?” She asked quietly.

Fili grabbed her goblet and quickly filled it. She didn’t realize how quiet the table was until she accepted it back from Fili and faced forward again, all eyes staring at her.

It was Thorin who broke the brief silence. “They hunt you?” his voice was deep and soothing.

She nodded. “Yes. Ice bears, if we are closer to the ocean, try to pick off our weak and our young. Most families only have one child that make it into adulthood, and unless they are skilled warriors unplagued with injuries or disease, our older ones sadly don’t make it past 350 years."

Shock covered everyone’s faces. She continued on, trying to not read too deep into their reactions.

“Frost drakes are more drawn to our livestock, even though that doesn’t mean they are not a threat to us. They tend to favor our goats, since the reindeer horns tend to be more of a choking hazard than anything else. We had a young drake once choke and die on some antlers, unfortunate for him but sure made it easier on us. We harvested some of the best scales and hide off him. That took place a year before my own Proving which was beneficial for me. I was able to prepare myself as much as possible.”

“Proving?” Fili pressed.

“Yes. Do you not host them for when your young warriors come of age?”

“Never ‘eard of a provin Lass.” Dwalin confirmed.

“Oh. Well, I apologize I just assumed that would be a standard practice in our culture. When our warriors are of age, we go out in groups usually of only 4 or 5 that have come of age with one elder and several seasoned warriors to watch our progress but not interfere, to track, hunt and kill a frost drake. We make our armor and weapons from their bone, skin and scales. Metals are precious and are more likely to be heirloom items. My weapons were my mothers, so I was better equipped than most during my Proving.”

“How old were you, Lass?” Balin asked gently, trying to not let sorrow and pity show in his face.

“We come of age at 20 years.”

Gasps sounded around the table, mutterings of awe and outrage mingled in with the noise. She looks around, nervous about the reaction she received.

“Ye were just a wee babe!” Gloin thundered in indignation from his seat in the middle of the table, his wife Gemlinn covering her mouth with her hand in shock, their own son Gimli sitting next to them was just mere decades older than that.

She raised her eyebrows in shock, before turning to look at Fili and Dis who shared Gloin’s horror before her eyes landed on Thorin. He looked extremely uncomfortable, his lips pressed in a thin line as he studied her, as if seeing her in a different light.

“Now, now everyone! Remember she is from an entirely different kingdom than ours; there are things we probably do that shock her.” Balin reasoned, raising his hand to calm the mutters of shock and outrage. “It is good for us to learn of how our fellow race survive in this world. We can all learn from one another.”

Mistlynn nodded in gratitude to Balin. “Thank you Master Balin. I didn’t mean to upset anyone; I apologize for any offense.”

“Nonsense!” Dain thundered. “It’s just unheard of here, letting one's dwarflings go into battle so young. Not to mention with a drake! We consider twenty to still be an adolescent who just then starts combat training.”

“Speaking of adolescents!” Dis chimed in loudly, eager for a subject change. “Dain, you must help me with the telling of this story.”

Dain sat forward eagerly in his seat. “Och yes, which one cousin? We have so many good ones to tell.”

“Dain.” Thorin warned with a disapproving growl.

Dain and Dis ignore him, both looking at each other with matching hilarity.

“Oh, you know which one.” Dis teased, as she picks up her own drink and smirks over the rim. “Grandmother’s missing knitting needles.”

Dain cackled. “Och yes! Yyyeesss! I nearly forgot about that one!” Everyone was now giving their prompt attention to them.

Thorin’s eyes grew wide as it clicked which childhood memory they were talking about. “No Dis! Dain! Don’t you even think about it.”

“Oh, why not dear brother? You're the main protagonist of our story. You will appreciate this one, as I’m sure everyone else will.”

“It was a bonny, sunny day.” Dain crooned. “And our beloved king at this time was a wee prince of 17 years.” Dain blatantly ignored the daggered glares Thorin was shooting at the side of his face. “Our antagonist would be Frerin, our dearly departed cousin and sibling. He had succeeded in getting Thorin disciplined for an adventure gone wrong.”

Thorin huffed indignantly. “Gone wrong? It was he who stole Lord Girion’s horse! I was trying to return it to save his miserable hide and I got the blame!”

“Anyways,” Dis grins, once again ignoring her brother. “As one could imagine, that doesn’t sit well with my dear older brother. He despised being in trouble with Grandfather and Adad. So naturally, he seeks retribution for this grievous injustice.”

“Dissssss.” Thorin groans, running his hands over his face.

Mistlynn, curious to hear more of this, realizes that Fili and Kili are leaning forward in their seats, most eager for the rest of the story as Dwalin snorts in amusement and takes a generous sip of his ale.

“It was the four of us, mind you. Normally Frerin was within our ranks, but we couldn’t pass up watching Thorin get even. Their fights were epic, you see.” Dain continues. “So, he enlists Dis to go get some of our dear ‘ole grandmothers knitting needles that she kept by her rocking chair, while he, Dwalin and I manage to ‘borrow’ a small trainin bow from the armory.

Thorin started to rub his forehead his with hands in embarrassed exasperation.

“So, in a clever show of his skills, he manages to make arrows out of grandmas needles, and fletching’s from raven’s feathers that we gathered from Raven Hill.” Dis looks at her brother’s evident distress, enjoying the power she held immensely.

“I used rounded tips. Don’t forget that detail you heathens.” Thorin grumbled, reaching for his wine while failing to hide his growing mortification. Dwalin threw his head back and laughed, obviously enjoying the memory. “Traitor!” Thorin spats, pointing at him accusingly, much to Dwalin and the rest of the table’s amusement.

Dain and Dis had to get their laughter under control before they could continue. “So, it takes a few days before Thorin gets his chance to enact his plan. Frerin had private lessons with Lady Stonebridge, and she had a nice window that looked out into the courtyard gardens.”

Balin let out a gasp of realization, which made Dwalin snicker harder. Dis shooshed him, hardly mad at him since she was fighting laughter herself.

“Aye, my dear cousin ‘ere has a wicked aim,” Dain was thoroughly animated with the storytelling. ‘He perched, all stealthy like on the branches of our grandmother’s big apple tree in the center of the courtyard. He had the perfect shot of Frerin’s blonde, thick noggin! He drew back that bow and took his shot; and fly true, it did!” It was getting harder for him to speak clearly between his bursts of laughter.

“Except Frerin had been expecting Thorin to do something.” Dis smiled fondly at the memory, her giggling slightly more under control. “He ducked last minute, having heard the bow string after it had been released. And when he ducked, he saved his head from a sharp little tap, but he also let that arrow fly right past him and into the generous backside of Lady Stonebridge!”

Dwalin didn’t miss a beat. Apparently, the memory had been a fond one of his. He let out a shrieking wail, like that of an older dwarrowdam in a surprised outrage, clearly mimicking the noise that the poor teacher had squealed that day while mock flailing his arms.
That was the final part of the story that had the whole table roaring with laughter. After hearing his childhood friend’s impression of the teacher getting shot in the butt with one of his arrows, the laughter Thorin was attempting to keep buried couldn’t be contained anymore. He looked at Dwalin and burst out in thunderous laughter. “Durin’s beard! You sound just like her!” His kingly disposition dissolved into gut splitting laughter.

“It was you four this entire time!” Balin exclaimed in-between fits of laughter. “I remember my Adad tearing this mountain apart looking for the bow! He thought Frerin did it! You’re Adad was furious!” He pointed at Thorin accusingly. “You lied straight to his face!”

Thorin had tears running down his face as he leaned forward, holding his aching stomach with his hand. Mistlynn couldn’t help but join in on the laughter. Seeing Thorin laugh as hard as he was with his kin was refreshing, and it made her momentarily forget the internal battle she was facing herself. His laughter made the moths in her stomach flutter again. She could picture the young dwarf prince pulling an outrageous prank on his younger brother in retaliation for being wrongly accused of a stunt he did not do, and poised enough to not even get caught.

“E knew it was ye too!” Dwalin wheezed, trying to get his voice back while gasping for breath.

This made Thorin laugh harder. “Aye! I know he did. Drove him mad! He was so furious with me!””

Dis was laughing merrily along with everyone, but she quietly appreciated seeing her brother laughing again. It seemed like it had been a century since she last saw him laugh in this way. She glanced to her side, watching Mistlynn laugh while watching Thorin with a new appreciation, and dare she say it, attraction glinting in her eyes. She shot a look over at her cousin, whose face was a brilliant shade of red from laughter and winked at him. Their plan was working. He grabbed his goblet and toasted her subtly before turning to acknowledge a thoroughly humored Balin.

“Oi! I can’t believe you never told us this story Amad!” Fili wiped his eyes, finally getting his laughter under control.
“You said it brother! After all these years you have the gall to call us troublemakers! Bloody hell I couldn’t imagine what would of happened to me if you had caught me doin that!” Kili looked incredulous, as if he just realized he had been cheated out of a very mischievous uncle in his youth.

Thorin rested his head on the back of his chair, trying to catch his breath. “I didn’t get caught, otherwise I would have lost my hide.” Thorin snickered, reaching for his goblet to get a desperately needed drink.

“He would of buried you, not for trying to get Frerin back but for the fact you hit the teacher in the behind.” Dis snickered.

“You wouldn’t of been able to even make that shot Dis! Frerin’s hearing be damned, I swear he had better hearing than an elf. Cheeky asshole.” Thorin didn’t sound mad in the slightest, rather he spoke with fondness evident not only in his tone, but in his eyes.

Dis’s laugh quieted down to a chuckle. “It feels good, remembering him. He would be laughing along with all of us.”

Thorin nodded as he placed a hand on his sisters comfortingly. “Yes. It was good. We should try to speak of him more in the future.”

Dis nodded, aware that Mistlynn was watching her and Thorin’s exchange, understanding that their brother was no longer amongst the living.

“Please cousin, tell me you have more stories about you guys causing trouble.” Kili pleaded, looking down and Dain and Dwalin imploringly.

“Aye there are plenty, but none of them will be heard by your ears. I’ll take them to my grave.” Thorin growled playfully.

“My entire childhood is a lie! There I was, believing you had not a fun bone in your body, and you were causin a ruckus with your siblings and cousins.”

“Och! Now tha Erebor has been restored and alliances drawn perhaps ye may be at the receiving end of yer Uncle’s shenanigans.” Dain teased as he elbowed Dwalin, “Him and Dwalin gave, Frerin, Dis and I a run for our money they did! Rascals both of em!”

“Ye all were hellions and ye deserved all that ye got!” Dwalin gave Dis an accusing glare. “Especially your mum, she dinnae know when ta quit!”

Dis sniffed daintily. “I have no idea of what you’re talking about Dwalin. You just were an unlucky dwarfling.”

“Yer the one who carved the nude elves on mae axe I know it!”

Thorin threw his hands up in the air. “Alright now! That’s enough stories for one evening or we are going to have a civil war on our hands in here.” He pointedly looked at his sister and friend. Mistlynn was able to catch Dis spitting her tongue out to Dwalin, who scowled playfully back at her.

Thorin stood up from his seat, and the room fell silent almost immediately.

“Let the dancing begin!”

*****************************

*Mistlynn*

It was loud. Loud and lively were the two words Mistlynn associated with the gathering that unfolded in front of her. The feasting hall had an enormous dance floor, and it was filled with guests dancing and twirling around. Bofur was playing his fiddle while one of Dain’s entourage was playing the bagpipes in a vigorous tune. She had been spellbound by the small wooden instrument, and asked Dis what it was called. The word ‘fiddle’ pleased her immensely. It was such a fitting name, going along with the beautiful sounds that emitted from the vibrations in its wooden body and strings. She was standing with her back against the wall as she took everything in. The dams in their beautiful dresses being twisted around gracefully by their partners made her desperately wish she knew the dances, let alone the courage to jump out and join in with everyone. She could feel the steady beat of the dancer’s feet thrumming through the floor and the air around her was charged with the spirited music.
The dwarves who were not dancing were standing off to the sides, clapping and stomping their feet in time. It was truly an amazing experience she would never forget. They had dancing in her Kingdom, when the drums and bone flutes inspired dancing around the fires, but they used it more for storytelling and as a way to mourn and honor the death of a warrior, not at all like the jovial and jubilant merry-making this dancing was.

Every face had a smile or heartfelt laugh, twinkling eyes and joyful spirits. She could see Kili and his beautiful Tauriel dancing in some complicated jig, while Fili had pulled Dis out as his partner. She spotted Dain spinning his beautiful wife around, and just seeing how in love they were even after all their years of marriage made her smile widen, and she found herself wishing she could have a love like that.
It was then, when the dancers revolved in the complicated routine that she couldn't for the life of her figure out, she saw him, dancing with a younger redheaded dam. Seeing the young girl’s fiery red hair she guessed it was probably Dain and Sandri’s daughter he was dancing with, watching them laugh and dance with such joy took her breath away for the umpteenth time that night.
The dance had come to an end and she watched Thorin twirl the young girl, who was smiling gleefully, for the last time before he bowed to her, giving her a dazzling grin as he clapped his hands in applause for the musicians.
She found herself clapping and laughing along with everyone else as she watched Sandri walk up to Thorin and whispered something in his ear before nodding in her direction. Her smile faltered slightly as Thorin’s head turned in her direction and his sparkling blue eyes found her. He said something to Sandri and her daughter before he began walking in her direction.
She stopped her clapping when she realized he was walking towards her. “Shite.” She cursed under her breathe as she attempted to turn quickly and slink off into the crowd of onlookers; but found herself running into the rock-solid body of Dwalin.
The gruff warrior’s eyes were twinkling impishly. “And where dinnae think yer goin lass?” He teased knowingly. She stammered, desperate to make a clean escape before she heard a throat being cleared behind her. She turned slowly, only to look up at a clearly amused Thorin. She felt the deep thrum of the bagpipes starting up, making the stone floor thrum underneath her feet, adding to the shudder that ran up her spine when Thorin gave her a charming grin.
He had shed his fancy black dress coat; and was now just in a dark blue tunic with simple rune designs in silver thread adorning the lapels. He held his hand out to her, rendering her breathless again. “Would you honor me with a dance?”

She swallowed thickly and licked her lips nervously. “I am sorry, I don’t know any of these dances. I would make a very poor dance partner.”

She heard Dwalin snort out a muffled laugh behind her as Thorin chuckled. “Oh, I doubt that. Just follow my lead and your feet will find the steps. Trust me.”

“I don’t want to embarrass you in front of everyone.” She squeaked, her eyes growing wide with fear as she watched couples flooding back to the dancefloor.
She felt Dwalin gently push her towards Thorin, allowing him to capture her hand. His hand was warm and firm, and that familiar shooting of tingling fire shot up from her fingertips up to her ears to the very tips of her toes. “You won’t’.” He smiled at her gently, his low rumbling promise making her knees shake for a moment.

He guided her through the crowd of onlookers who looked at her and Thorin, grinning as they watched their king pull the captivating dam onto the dancefloor.

“Oh Mahal.” She found herself gasping as she found herself trembling as Bofur joined in with his fiddle’s spry chorus.
“Don’t be nervous.” Thorin soothed as he pulled her closer to him, “We will have to get closer, like so.” He instructed as he pulled her to his chest, laying a guiding hand to the small of her back. She breathed in sharply at the sudden, intoxicating closeness of him, the scent that was so uniquely him now enveloping her. He grabbed her hand and positioned it on his shoulder then grasped her hand finally in his. “Now just follow me, listen to the beat. Don’t overthink it. Just move with me.”

“I don’t think I can do this.” She started to panic as the music started in with an upscale beat, her eyes affixed on the floor between her staggering feet and his confident ones.”

“Look at me, don’t look down. Just go with the beat. Don’t overthink.” He encouraged, still smiling warmly at her. She looked up at him, the fear in her eyes darkening their color to a light jade. His eyes were bright and serene, like a calm sea on a sunny day. “Don’t look away. Just move with me. Don’t fight it.”

She laughed nervously, as she let him take the lead and they joined the tempo with the rest of the dancers.

He was a very skilled dancer she soon discovered, and probably the best dance partner a dam could wish for. He was guiding her effortlessly across the dance floor, and soon she forgot about the nervousness that had previously hindered her steps. Her steps soon fell in sync with his, and she gave in fully to the wonderful feeling of being held and twirled around in his arms. She was soon laughing and shrieking as he twirled her suddenly, making her sparkling skirt fan out beautifully around her legs as she spun.
Unlike the other dances she watched before this, the tempo was steadily increasing in pace. Shrieks of delight escaped her lips as they kept up, and when he suddenly put both hands on her waist and lifted her up and spun her around in the air effortlessly. She than looked about her and saw all the other dams were being twirled in the air as well, as laughs and shrieks joined in with the music. They all were guided back to the ground in perfect synchronization and were pulled into an even faster tempo. As they spun quickly around she closed her eyes and laughed joyously, tilting her head back letting her long locks to twirl in a beautiful arc behind her.

***********************

*Thorin*

Thorin was laughing, immensely enjoying the look of absolute bliss on her face as she gave in to the music, fully trusting him to guide her around the dance floor in his arms. She was breathtakingly beautiful, and he knew almost everyone was watching her dance.
Her laugh was melodic and airy as she let him twirl her; her body following his lead flawlessly. She was a natural, her ability to quickly familiarize herself with this style of dance was impressive. It was as if she had been doing it her entire life after she had given into confidence.
As the tempo quickened into an almost breathless pace, he pulled her lithe body closer as they moved in sync with the other couples. He looked over quickly to the dancers closest to him and saw it was Dis and Fili who were grinning widely at Mistlynn’s enjoyment. Dain let out a jovial whoop as they all swirled and glided around each other. Bofur, whose deft fingers were lightening across his fiddle’s strings was beaming at them, and he winked shamelessly at Thorin they swiftly twirled past him in the vast colorful sea of the dancefloor.

“You finally joined us!” Kili shouted over the roaring music and laughter as he and Tauriel glided alongside them.

Mistlynn giggled in delight, “Your uncle makes it look like I know what I’m doing!”

Thorin laughed loudly. “Such flattery won’t buy you out of the next dance.” He jested, lifting her up again and spinning her in the air in time. He savored the feeling of her warm hands firmly placed on his shoulders as he looked up at her. She giggled, her gaze not leaving his even as he spun her back to the ground and guided her flawlessly as the music reached the climax of its chorus. “Ready for the final spin?”

She was laughing breathlessly, her eyes still gazing into his as she nodded eagerly. “Lead on.” In perfect time with music and the rest of the dancers, he placed his hands into hers and held them tightly and he threw them into a dizzying spin. Their arms were perfectly entwined as they straighten and gave into the spin, making the room around them blur with the speed. “Oh no!” she squealed in elation as they spun around.

He found himself laughing exuberantly at her reaction, taking in and locking away the vision of her spinning, her elegant hands locked firmly in his. As the music stopped abruptly in conclusion, he pulled her back to him. She was laughing breathlessly as her hands came up to rest on his shoulders as she leaned against him, her heaving chest moving in tangent with his as his hands came to rest of her lower back.
Her eyes were twinkling as she looked up at him, her smile bright and alluring.

The room once again disappeared from around them, making it feel like they were the only ones in the room. He found himself lost in her eyes, lost in the feeling of her body fitting perfectly against his. In flashes he remembered their kiss in the alleyway, and his chest tightened. The urge to kiss her again, to feel her sweet, full lips moving against his became all-consuming. He watched her eyes darken, her pupils blowing wide, becoming pools of molten lust as if she could read his thoughts. It was difficult to forget the eagerness in which she had returned his kiss, how her body had hungrily molded tightly against his as if she had been shaped to fit exclusively against him.

“Mistlynn.” He whispered lowly, hunger and something deeper making his voice gravely. Her eyelashes fluttered in response as her fingers tighten their grip on his shoulders. Durin’s beard! The overpowering desire to claim her as his and his alone surged through him. “Thorin.” His name was released as a sigh from her lips. “What is happening?”

He started to lean his head down towards hers, his hands gliding up her back and onto her arms, slowly moving to cup her face, to answer her in a way that only a searing kiss could convey. The sound of raucous applause erupted from around them, and the moment was lost. As if cold water had been dumped on them, they stepped back from one another, their eyes still locked in a silent battle as they fought to regain their breath.
That fearful look flooded back into his eyes, making her feel like she had to be the one to back away this time instead of him. Before she could step back fully, his hand grasped ahold of hers, anchoring her. Not releasing his gaze from hers, he slowly raised her hand up and tenderly kissed the back, savoring the taste of her soft and salty skin against his lips. He caught the slight motion of her breath hitching at the feeling of his lips touching her skin.
He swallowed thickly, realizing how far he had let his guard down. “My lady.” He bowed his head to her, released her hand as he drew himself up to his full height and brushed passed her, leaving the dance floor.

Dis growled in frustration as she watched her brother flee the dining hall.

“Poor dears! Why do they keep fighting it?” Sindri sighed, hating to see Thorin and Mistlynn fight what was so obvious to everyone else.

“Because he is a stubborn git.” Dis seethed. “I’m going to go smack some sense into him.”

“Don’t be too harsh now, eh?” Dain called after her as he patted his wife’s arm comfortingly. “He always has a reason for fighting things. Try to talk him through it.”

Dis nodded begrudgingly. She knew her cousin was right. He wasn’t a complete blockhead.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

Dis found her brother in the courtyard, sitting on the bench underneath the blossoming apple tree that their grandmother planted shortly after her and Thror had married. He was lost in his own thoughts, as he fidgeted with something small in his hands.

She approached silently, observing him. He looked pained, fighting some internal war with himself.

“It pains me to see you this way, especially after seeing how you two danced together. I haven’t seen you smile or laugh this much since before Smaug, when our parents and Frerin were still alive.” Her voice was gentle yet firm, breaking him from his trance.

He glanced up at her as she approached, but quickly looked away, unable to respond. It was just too painful to let it fully resurface.
She sat next to him, her shoulder touching his. “When I met Vili in that market, I knew he was my One. He knew as well, the moment he looked into my eyes, He was charming, over the moon he had found me. I wasn’t so sure; I was afraid of such a momentous commitment. So, I ran. And I avoided him for months, until I couldn’t bear to be apart from him any longer. It felt like my very soul was being ripped in two.”

Thorin looked over at her in surprise. “I had no idea. I just thought you guys met and that was that.”

Dis laughed softly, her smile was bittersweet as her eyes momentarily focused on that past time. “No. And now looking back I’m angry with myself for wasting that precious time. For fighting something that I should have just embraced. We are mortal Thorin, we don’t have the luxury of forever. We must grab on tightly to our happiness and enjoy it until the very last.”

Thorin shook his head, looking away from her and looking out into the night, feeling that long seeded guilt stab at him that always accompanied a memory of Vili. “I’m not as strong as you Dis.” He spoke softly. If she hadn’t been studying his face, she wouldn’t have been able to hear him. “I saw what losing Vili did to you, the pain you went through. I also remember what it did to Adad, losing Amad the way he did. I couldn't survive that. I would beg for death.”

Dis put her arm around her brother’s shoulders. “I can see how it would look like that from the outside, but I can tell you that I wouldn’t trade one second with him despite all that pain. I’d rather treasure the love and memories I have of him than to have never loved him at all. And I know that if Adad were here, he would tell you the same thing.”

***************************

“Mistlynn*

She needed air. The feasting hall had grown hot and thick, and she had found herself becoming lightheaded. The emotional whiplash she had received throughout the evening hadn’t helped either. She found herself on the top of an intricately carved stone staircase that led down into a beautiful courtyard. The moon was shining brightly in the sky, making the water spewing from the fountains sparkle. There was a cloud of light pink blossoms floating above a thick gnarled trunk. At its base she saw Thorin and Dis. She was hugging her brother, their heads dipped towards each other in a private conversation.

She flushed, angry with herself for imposing on such a private moment. She turned abruptly to leave, but in her haste the many layers of her dress twisted about her ankles. She was already unstable wearing the new heeled slippers, with an undignified yelp, she found herself falling and rolling down the steps, landing in a heap of silk and tulle.
She lay there, gasping as she stared up at the night sky, not quite believing the fact she just fell down the flight of stairs, in front of Thorin and Dis no less, “There is no possible way that just happened.” She whispered to herself as the gravity of it started to sink in.
She turned slightly, hoping that they had not noticed but instead found that she had landed right next to the bench, both Thorin and Dis looking directly at her with a mix of concern and amusement on their faces. “This…is not…happening.” She whined as she grabbed the top layer of her skirt and slowly pulled it up to cover her burning face.

Dis chuckled and patted her brother on his knee. “And on that note, I’ll leave you to it.” She stood up, brushing out her skirt and walking gracefully away. “I shall see you tomorrow for tea Mistlynn.” She called over her shoulder as she made her way back to the feasting hall, the sounds of the gathering still echoing out into the night.

Her face remained hidden from Thorin as she continued to lay there unmoving. She heard him chuckle. “Are you alright? Do you need assistance in getting up?”

“No, I am right where I intended to be. Stargazing and all that implies.”

“Through the skirt of your dress? I’ve never seen one stargaze in such a manner.”

“You should try it sometime.”

“I’m not one for dresses so I will take your word for it.” Thorin slowly pulled the fabric from Mistlynn’s tight clutches, chuckling to himself silently, “Mistlynn let me help you up, I promise the bench is much better for stargazing.”

“No please, I already feel like dying, just leave me here. I will melt into the earth much easier this way.”

Thorin laughed uproariously, his eyes twinkling with mirth with her unhindered honesty. It was just as refreshing as her very presence was.

“Laughing at me will not improve this situation or cause me to join you on the bench any sooner.” Came her petulant retort, her voice wavering with ill-concealed embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, I truly don’t mean to laugh. Will you please join me? If you don’t, I will be forced to join you on the ground.”

Mistlynn let out a huff but didn’t move, she didn’t know how at this point. Tulle was so entwined around her feet she knew it would be impossible to unravel on her own.

“Alright then I guess I am joining you!” Thorin let out a grunt as he rose from the bench and then, much to her surprise, he laid on the ground with his head next to hers, clasping his hands over his stomach “I’m not sure the view is much better from the ground, but I do say it is cooler down here after the heat from the feasting hall.”

“My feet are tangled and my arse hurts, I can’t get up.” She finally confessed after a brief silence; her voice contrite.

“I know.” Was his simple responsible. She felt some of her wall’s crumble as they lay there next to each other, listening to each other's breaths and their heartbeats harmonize as one.

“Would you like help?” The low timbre of his voice washed over her, drawing her in like a moth to an irresistible flame.

“Yes…if it is not too much trouble?” She whispered, trying to disguise the fact she was near tears.

“I am known to be quite agreeable…when one is not screaming at me, that is.” His lips twisted up into a playful smirk. It felt good, to allow this side of him to reveal itself after lying dormant for so long.

Mistlynn let out a truly genuine laugh, her embarrassment slowly washing away and being replaced with the intense attraction that pushed her to gravitate towards him. She liked this side of him, and she was hungry for more. “A girl does not like being chased, she may like being pursued but chased is completely unwarranted.”

“What do you call it when she leaps off a 12 story balcony slicing through a banner, running through the halls wreaking havoc and holding dwarves at knife point? Just a typical midweek day for you?”

“I apologized for that, I’ll have you know! I had just been attacked by a band of Orcs, creatures I’ve not once encountered, and was in a strange place if you remember correctly. I feel a little grace should be given to that situation.” She sniffed delicately, desperately wanting that tense day of their meeting to be a distant memory.

“Well, I guess I could be persuaded if I was given the proper motivation.” His voice deepened as he baited her further, truly enjoying their easy flowing banter.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not very good at being a female. Dresses and heels are death traps. My table manners are atrocious. And I never say the right thing! What makes you think I know how to properly motivate anyone?”

He turned his head to look at her, his gaze softening. He reached his hand over and touched hers gently before threading his fingers through hers. Her hand fit perfectly into his, and he felt another missing piece of his soul slide into place. She turned to face him, her eyes wide both in surprise and nervousness.
“I have the distinct feeling you can do whatever you put your mind to.” He breathed, his words earnest.

Before she could come up with a response he rolled onto his side and pushed himself up. He placed her hand he held over his shoulder before scooping her up effortlessly. She gasped at the sensation, looking up at his face as he gently cradled her in his arms. A fuzzy memory of him holding her the same way the night he had rescued her, his enticing eyes boring into hers. She had felt it, even then, this gut-wrenching pull to him.
He sat her down tenderly on the bench, leaving his hand on the curve of her low back as he helped straighten out the voluminous skirt of her dress. She sighed in relief once her legs were free and kicked the infernal shoes off for good measure.
Her heart was once again racing at his proximity, his hand burning her skin as it rested on her. She looked up at him, to see that he hadn’t taken his eyes off her. Azure again crashing with jade.
“You asked me earlier what was happening.” His voice was thick with heady emotion, making her tremble against his touch. She nodded, unable to find her voice.
“I’ve been trying to fight this.” He rumbled, holding her gaze captive. “But now I just find myself falling into you with all that I am. You are who I’ve been waiting for my entire life.” His other hand came up to cup her jaw, making her eyes flutter as she leaned in closer to him.

“Are you saying that you think I am your One?” She breathed, still unable to look away from him, so lost in the endless sea that were his eyes.

“You are my One. I knew the moment I first looked into your eyes; I was just too stubborn to accept it. ” There was no doubt in his strong voice. His thumb traced her cheekbone, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

“We were told that having a ‘One’ was a thing lost and buried with our ancestors.” She swallowed thickly. A flash of panic crossed his eyes, fearing this was a rejection. That was not what she wanted; not what she was trying to convey. She brought her hand up and ran her fingers into his well-groomed beard. “All I know is that you are the only one to have ever set my soul on fire. I cannot fathom living a life without you in it. That’s why I’ve stayed. I can’t bring myself to leave you.”

“M’eudail.” He breathed, a small smile played across his lips as he nuzzled her nose with his while pulling her head closer, his hand moving to the back of her head, finally sinking his fingers into her silky curls. He kissed her gently at first, a sharp contrast to their first kiss before he slid his tongue along her bottom lip, as if seeking permission.
She obliged eagerly, one hand grasping his hair tightly while using the other to move onto his lap, anchoring herself firmly to his chest. “Damned dress.” She growled into his mouth as she struggled to sit fully on his lap, the layered skirt was preventing her from getting the closeness she had been craving since their first kiss.

Thorin’s chest rumbled with a chuckle as she tried to squirm closer to him. “I am quite partial to this dress.” His voice was husky as he peppered kisses along her jaw and down her neck.
Her eyes rolled back as she hummed, enjoying the chills he sent through her body with just his lips. “It allows me to pay certain parts of your body special attention.”
She never realized how sensitive her breasts could be until he started to lavish attention upon them. She gasped, a jolt of fire shooting to that deep place between her thighs, his hand grasping her breast through her dress. Her chest heaved as he licked and nipped back up her neck.

Her grip tightened in his hair, making him growl and lunge for her lips. His blood was boiling with lust. He knew he had to slow it down, they had a lot to talk about, no matter how badly he craved her. He brought his hands up to cup her face, and slowed down their kiss, softening it.
“Even though this pains me…” he whispered against her lips, “We should probably discuss some things before we get too ahead of ourselves.”

Mistlynn breathed deeply through her nose in resignation as she rested her forehead against his. She was on her knees, since her dress wouldn’t let her sit fully in his lap, making it to where he had to look up at her. Not that either was complaining. His hands slid down to her lower back, his thumb teasing the dimples at the base of her spine where the curve of her butt was evident.
“I suppose your right.” She sighed, “Even though I do prefer kissing you over talking. I feel like we would agree more if we did nothing but kiss.”

“So much progress made, then you say things like that.” He cocked his eyebrow, his stern tone not reaching his laughing eyes. “What should we do about that?”

She started to massage her fingers across the back the of head and neck, making him groan and rest his head against her chest. “Minx.” He grumbled while tightening his arms around her middle, pulling her closer against him. “You don’t play fair.”

“Never said I did.” She giggled. He could only imagine the cat like grin that shaped her mouth.

“I’m going to have my hands full with you, I can already tell.” He mumbled into her chest, before playfully nipping the top of her breast, making her squeak in mock indignation.
“Two can play at that game.” He grinned at the sound of her laugh, his hands quickly grabbing her butt and squeezing, making her arch up into him in surprise before laughing and smacking him playfully on the shoulder. If he was fortunate enough to spend the rest of his days making her laugh, like he was now, he would never want for anything.
He reached one hand into his pocket, pulling out the small item he had been fidgeting with earlier when Dis had found him. He held it up, so that Mistlynn could see. Her eyes widened when she recognized what it was. He smiled, relieved that she knew the significance of this hair bead.

“This was my mother's.” His voice was soft. “My father crafted it for her when they announced their betrothal. It is mithril and sapphire with the runes of my house, of the line of Durin.”

Mistlynn swallowed thickly, tears gathering in her eyes.

“I am almost 200 years old, and I have done nothing but fight my way through life. And now that I have found you, I know that all that fighting was meant to lead me to you.” He paused and wiped away a tear that escaped and slid down her cheek. “Will you do me the honor of letting me braid this in your hair? So that the world can see that it has always been you that was meant to be my Queen?”

She laughed breathlessly before leaning down and kissing him passionately. “Only if you wear one of mine.” She whispered in-between kisses. She abruptly pulled back, biting her bottom lip nervously. “It isn’t made of anything special.” She stammered. “It’s made of ivory and mother of pearl. They were made for my mother by my father when they were betrothed as well.”

Thorin kissed her gently. “I would be honored to wear it, and I will treasure it above all other jewelry I own.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

*Dis*

She let the tea steep a little longer than normal. She needed a strong brew to awaken her soul. After leaving Thorin alone last night with Mistlynn’s unforgettable entrance, she had gone back to the feasting hall and enjoyed a couple more dances and several more glasses of wine as she caught up with Dain and Sindri. An extra boost of vigor was needed for this day.

She had been most pleased with how the night had played out. Seeing her brother laugh and dance, truly enjoying himself had nearly brought tears to her eyes. He had seemed a century younger, before all that death and responsibility had been heaped upon his young shoulders. Their talk in the courtyard had been enlightening as well. She was shocked when he said that she was stronger than him, although that sentiment could not be farther from the truth. That was high praise coming from him. She knew her brother held her in high regard, but he had always been a dwarf of few words, especially after the death of their mother.
It pained her to see him afraid, vulnerable. He had always been the strong unmovable pillar in her life, a resilient and impenetrable stronghold not unlike the mountain he ruled with an iron fist. He had always been her protector, her respite from the cruelty of the world; he stepped in and raised her boys and supported her when her Vili lost his life. He would never understand how much she cherished and appreciated him for his strength and selflessness. She could only hope that her words had been enough to soothe that fear, to encourage him to pursue something that would bring him happiness, for once in his life think of himself and put himself first.

An abrupt knock sounded at her door, interrupting her thoughts jarringly. She winced slightly before regaining her poised composure. Never show weakness, especially if it came in the form of a hangover. “Enter.” She called out briskly.

The door opened and the white-blonde head of Mistlynn poked in. She had her hair braided half up and down, and she was wearing a pair of breeches, a flowy white tunic and a leather bustier of her own design. “Sorry I am late.” She smiled brightly before stepping in shutting the door. “I got caught up in my workshop. Ori rescheduled our lessons for later this afternoon.” She chuckled as she approached swiftly with a very confident sway to her hips as an irresistible zest radiated from her. “And just how are you fairing my friend?” she teased, her green eyes bright.

A suspicious smirk teased Dis’s lips. “What has you in such a fine mood?” Her eyes scanned over her, and she quickly spotted a certain braid tucked behind her delicate ears. Dis jumped to her feet and rushed to Mistlynn, her eye wide and eager to confirm what she hoped and suspected. She touched the braid and lifted it gently with her fingers, an elated smile brightening her face as she saw her brother’s bead firmly clasped on the end of the intricate braid.
An uncharacteristic squeal left the raven-haired princess as she pulled Mistlynn into a bone crushing hug, hangover immediately forgotten. “Oh, he did it! Mahal be praised! He did it!”

Mistlynn was laughing at her friend’s reaction and hugged her back tightly once she was able to wiggle her arms free.

“I finally get a sister! I’ve been waiting for so long! Do you have any idea how long?” Dis giggled as she shook her to emphasize the point. “You guys were beginning to pain me! It was so excruciating to watch!”

Mistlynn blushed a deep red. “Was it really that obvious? Half the time I couldn't tell if he was glaring at me or offended by my very existence!”

“Oh, you were driving him mad, but not for the reasons you think! I’m sure he made it abundantly clear to you last night, eh? Judging by that betrothal bead and your blush.” Dis teased, her face still beaming with joy.

“It’s so surreal still. I woke up thinking it must have been a dream! But when I woke up my room was full of flowers. I’ve never seen or even smelled such amazing flowers before!” Mistlynn was gushing, thankful she was able to celebrate with someone other than Luna.

“I always knew he would spoil his bride-to-be, and you certainly deserve it my dearest!”

A series of urgent knocks pummeled Dis’s door before it burst open as Fili and Kili rushed in. “Amad! You will never believe what I heard from Bombur, who heard from Brienne, who heard from her maid that Uncle bought out the entire flower market and had it delivered to…” The words rushed from Kili’s mouth before he noticed that Mistlynn was standing next to his mother, both with joyous smiles on their faces. “Mistlynn!” both princes exclaimed in unison before hugging her.

“When is the wedding?” Kili asked eagerly.

“They haven’t discussed that yet!” Dis chided, shooing her youngest off.

“A little bit soon to be discussing a wedding, isn’t it?” Mistlynn chuckled nervously as she rubbed her palms against the side of her legs.

Dis, Fili and Kili all stopped talking and stared at her. She shrugged her shoulders awkwardly, “I mean, weddings are a simple affair in my kingdom. We perform a handfasting ceremony in front of our family unit and closest friends. We don’t normally have the means to support a feast afterwards.”

“Well, that sounds so… intimate and romantic.” Dis tried to smile encouragingly but was fighting with herself how exactly to explain what a royal dwarven wedding entailed.

“That sounds absolutely awful.” Kili was blunt, earning him a punch in the arm from Fili and a scolding look from his mother, “I’m sorry, I can’t think of any other way to describe that! You know who you are marrying right?”

“And that marrying my uncle means you become Queen of Erebor. The first Queen since our Great Gamul Amad! That’s reason enough for a huge celebration!” Fili added, not sure if breaking it gently to her was the right approach or not.

Dis nodded, agreeing with her sons. “We won’t make any permanent decisions until Mistlynn discusses with Thorin what they want. It’s their wedding after all, not yours.”

“She’s going to be our aunt! We just want to celebrate one of the few good things that has happened to our family since we reclaimed Erebor.” Kili grumbled, before looking at her directly. “By the way, I am so glad you’re his One. I was so scared he was going to marry someone old, and strict, and scary.”

Fili laughed loudly while Dis tried to smack Kili again, who dodged it. “Bite your tongue! Your uncle is not old, Kili!”

“Could have fooled me!” Kili shot back as he crossed him arms over his chest.

“Stop it, Kili.” Fili scolded as he pulled an uncomfortable Mistlynn into a side hug. “Don’t worry about it. No matter what happens it will be great. My Amad knows how to throw an amazing party, whether it be small or big.”

It was at that moment Thorin walked into the room, not at all surprised to see his family and his fiancé standing together. “Hhm. Now I can only imagine what this is about. I’ve been looking for the lot of you all morning.”

Dis rushed to him. “How dare you not tell me you proposed! I only found out because I saw Amad’s bead in her hair!”

“You're not my keeper Dis. I had every intention of telling you after you awoke this morning. Not my fault you slept in.” He cocked his eyebrow challenging her.

“Please tell me you guys are going to have a big wedding.” Kili begged, walking up next to his mother.

“Well, that is something I am going to discuss with my fiancé, not you Irakdashat. Don’t you have your own maiden to go woo?”

“The wooing has been done, now I’m just waiting on a certain kingly uncle to give me the go ahead to plan my own wedding, Thank you very much. Until then, I plan on living vicariously through yours.”

Thorin just shook his head, breathing in deeply while closing his eyes for a moment to pray for the sake of his sanity,

“Looks like I’m the favorite nephew again.” Fili grinned, trying to get Mistlynn to laugh and help her relax.

“Enough now.” Thorin grumbled, unable to help the smile that was teasing the corners of his mouth. He was looking at her now. “Has their incessant meddling changed your mind?”

Her laugh was lighthearted, and all the nervousness melted away. “They have only proven that I made the right choice.”
Fili tried to subdue his smile as he stepped aside so that Thorin could approach her, granting them a small measure of privacy. “Thank you for the flowers. They were so beautiful! When I awoke, I thought I was still dreaming. I’ve never seen so many! How did you do it?” Her eyes twinkled, making his smile brighten.

He picked up her hand and tenderly kissed the back of it. “I have my ways.” He teased.

“Ah, there are the two lovebirds!” Balin walked into the room. “The news is traveling fast; we must get ahead of it.”

“The entire flower market Thorin, truly? “Dis laughed. “I’m not surprised all of Erebor is buzzing with the news.”

“I had no intention of keeping it a secret.” Thorin winked at Mistlynn before he put her hand on his arm before turning to face the others in the room. “What would you have me do Balin?”

Balin smiled fondly at Mistlynn. “First, I would like to congratulate the lady. I am truly happy for you both.”

She beamed, her cheeks flushing a rosy hue. “Thank you Master Balin.”

“Now we must discuss a date for the wedding. Sooner rather than later I gather?” his eyes twinkled. “The sooner we can get invites sent out to our neighboring kingdoms the better.”

Thorin felt Mistlynn’s body freeze next to him as he nodded. “I have a feeling you have a date already in mind, my friend.” Thorin could see the silent conversation between Dis and Balin, he wanted to ask Mistlynn what had caused her to react in such a way but now was not the time.

“I think the last day of summer would be perfect. Gives us 6 weeks to prepare everything and give Mistlynn a proper overview of Erebor and what her duties as Queen will entail.”
Dis nodded, agreeing with Balin. “I agree. It’s a good amount of time for Dori and I to teach her what she needs to know and get her fitted for her wedding gown and new wardrobe.”

Thorin felt Mistlynn’s hand clench his arm slightly. He looked down at her to see slight trepidation in her eyes. “6 weeks is not a very long time. I fear I won’t be able to learn all that I need to in that time. I was thinking next spring would be a good time?”

Thorin raised his eyebrow in surprise as he turned to look at her. “You want to wait that long?”

Mistlynn shrugged nervously. “6 weeks just isn’t much time Thorin. I feel like there is still much for me to learn about your kingdom and your way of life in general. I do tend to stand out in a crowd don’t you agree?”

Thorin processed her words for a moment before adverting his eyes and looking at Balin and his family. “Could you give us a moment?” He asked, his tone neutral.

“Of course.” Balin nodded. “I’ll be outside.” He left the room, followed by Dis, Fili and Kili quickly. Kili shot them a wink before he shut the door.

“Is there any other reason other than you think you will not be prepared in that time?” Thorin asked, his tone gentle as he held both of her hands in his.

“Thorin, of course not.” Mistlynn stressed, squeezing his hands with hers comfortingly. “It’s just a lot you know, everything is changing so quickly. I’ve only been here a couple months. Not to mention my being from a kingdom no one here knew existed until I showed up unannounced. Some of your people may not like the idea of you marrying me, I am a quarter elf you know. We cannot ignore that fact. Even you knew that when we first met, and you were not happy about it either.”

Thorin groaned as he released her hands, and rubbed his over his face and pushed back through his hair as he closed his eyes. “I knew that comment was going to come back and haunt me. It was disgusting of me to even call you that, I had no right! I was frustrated and confused by my feelings for you I didn’t understand why you were under my skin so quickly. I was desperate for anything to keep you at a distance. But it doesn’t and will never excuse me calling you that foul word. Please forgive me.”

Mistlynn shook her head, stepping forward to put her hands on his chest, imploring him to understand. “That’s not what I meant. I’ve already forgiven you. It’s not like you were wrong, it is what I am and others have picked up on that fact. Most seem fine with it, but I know that others in your council are not going to be as understanding.”

“You're my One, M’eudail. The council has no standing when it comes to that; and if anyone dares question it, they will be removed from my council and will not be welcome in Erebor. I will not stand for it.”

“I will not have you tear apart your kingdom for me. You’ve worked too hard to build it back.”

“I’ve worked too hard and lost too much in my life in the name of duty, I will not lose you because some old goat feels your lineage is lacking, which it isn’t!” He sighed, taking a step back from her.
He paced for a moment before stopping and facing her again. “I am not as young as I used to be. I just accepted I would never find my One, that I would never have a love or family of my own. And now that I have found you, I don’t want to wait any longer. I know it seems fast, but we have felt the pull, we know that we were meant to be together, to belong to one another. I want to start our life together as soon as possible.”
He approached her, his eyes locking onto hers. He slid one hand along the curve of her waist and pulled her closer to him while he pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear before cupping her face. “But if you are uncomfortable with our wedding and your coronation being held so soon, I will wait. But I am afraid I cannot promise you a small wedding; it would be rude of me to not invite my people or our allies to witness our union and celebrate with us.”

Mistlynn looked deeply into his eyes, her own turbulent with many emotions. Thorin sighed, removing his hand from her cheek, and taking a step back. “You don’t have to make any decisions today. I don’t want you feeling pressured.”

Mistlynn shook her head, instantly missing his closeness. “No, Thorin. That’s not necessary.” She ran her hands up his chest and rested them around his neck. “Six weeks is enough time for me to acclimate. I am a fast learner, after all.” She smiled coyly at him before rising on her tiptoes to capture his lips with hers. She felt the tension leave his body as he gave in to her kiss. They savored the taste and feeling of one another for a moment, before she pulled back, a breathy giggle escaping her lips. “You talk as if you’re at death’s door, Thorin. You are not that much older than me.”

“I am 72 years older than you.” He grumbled, his lips forming a slight pout as he brooded at her words.

She threw her head back, a beautiful laugh filling the room around her before she jumped up against him, forcing him to catch her as he stumbled back into the back of his sister’s armchair. “Mahal knows I’ll keep you on your toes, force you to keep up with me. You are in your prime you silly dwarf, I’ve always known I wanted someone more … mature.”
Her light voice turned sensual before capturing his lips again, surprising him once again at her assertiveness. She bit his bottom lip teasingly than soothed it with her tongue, making a growl rumble deep from within his chest as he gripped her backside tightly with one hand while burying the other into her luscious platinum curls. He fought to keep his composure as she dominated the kiss as her legs wrapped around his waist tightly. He managed to pull back from her lips, desperately trying to focus on anything else other than her lips latching onto his neck directly under his jaw. “Another reason why we should get married quickly, you keep testing my resolve you minx.”

She giggled, still peppering his neck with kisses before claiming his lips for one final kiss before returning to her feet and stepping back, her chest heaving as she savored the look of her fiancé absolutely wrecked and wanting while leaning against the chair. “Should we inform them of the good news then?” She giggled, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

Thorin laughed breathlessly as he attempted to stand and adjust himself. “They are probably leaning against the door trying to eavesdrop.”
Mistlynn helped him straighten his tunic, allowing him to see the nervousness that flittered across her face before her mask slipped back into place. “Please tell me if you feel like your overwhelmed. I will help you navigate all of this.”

She nodded, taking a deep breathe. “I know you will. And I know you sister, nephews, and everyone else will help as well. I just have to stop overthinking it.”

Thorin leaned down and kissed the hair on the top of her head. She closed her eyes and snuggled into his embrace. It was at that moment she felt like she could take on the world.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12

The next week passed in a dreamlike blur. Mistlynn found herself swept up in a whirlwind of erratic emotions, the first being excitement and wonder in her newly established relationship with the formidable King Under the Mountain.

She was scared to label it as love and felt it unfair to brand it as such when she couldn’t even understand what that kind of love was. This was obviously different from the love she felt for her father, Argos, and even Valinn. Not the same as the love she held for Luna.

This feeling she felt for him came from deep within her. It was fire, all-consuming. Heated. The desire and need to see and be with him was growing stronger with each passing day, she couldn't deny that even if she tried. It was the kind of emotion that made her heart ache, yearning for his presence when she could not see him throughout the day.
This struggle of not knowing led perfectly into the second emotion of an all-encompassing fear. She was not as naïve to think that she was going to live life as she always had. Besides the obvious changes in her living situation, sturdy rock walls and roof, unmovable and sturdy over her head; she was expected to be something that she never had to prove to be before.

A lady. And not just any lady, but a lady about to become a Queen to a living legend of a King, in the mightiest Dwarven Kingdom in all Arda.
If that wasn’t a sobering realization, she didn’t know what else could be. She had not been prepared for a role of leadership in her kingdom. She had been allowed to pursue her desire to be an in formidable warrior. She would have eventually married another warrior within her kingdom, but no one that held a position of power. She felt woefully unprepared to this life that was suddenly thrust upon her. But she couldn’t bring herself to turn back now, she was in too deep with Thorin. Whatever it was she felt for him, she knew she could not walk away from him. She just knew she would fade, like a fire slowly losing the air that encouraged it to burn. She had to push ahead, and just hope that she wouldn’t lose herself in the process.
Which is why she found herself in her current situation. She was wearing another breathtaking gown of Durin’s blue perfectly form fitted to her body, her hair a cascade of platinum curls running down her back in tamed waves, and her face enhanced with rouge, eyelash tint, and lip oil. She was holding onto Thorin’s arm tightly as she shifted nervously from one foot to another.

“This is just an announcement, M’eudail. There is no need to be nervous.” Thorin leaned down to whisper in her ear, sensing her nervousness. His low timbre would have had its normal calming affect if it had been any other occasion.

“The King of Mirkwood and Dale are currently awaiting with all of Erebor to hear of our engagement Thorin, not an update on the weather or your recent trade agreement with Rohan.” Mistlynn’s smile was forced through clenched teeth as she stared resolutely at the door that would lead them out to the Hall of Kings.

Thorin looked down at her, his expression not hiding his concern. His other hand came to rest on top of hers. He was about to speak as Dis, Fili, Kili, Dwalin and Balin walked up behind them.

“Ready?” Balin smiled.

“As ready as I can be.” Mistlynn groused, shifting again. Her tone made guilt jab Thorin in the gut. He was about to ask if she would like to be excused from accompanying him when a loud clatter of metal hitting the ground captured everyone’s attention.

Thorin caught the slight twitch of her lips as she let a curse slip out under her breath. He raised an eyebrow. “What was that?” His tone had slight amusement coloring it.

She cleared her throat before crouching down and removing one of her daggers from underneath her skirts. Fili and Kili standing behind them concealed their laughs poorly, their shoulders shaking as they fought the urge to laugh out loud.

“Mistlynn! What on Mahal’s green earth! Where did you get that?!” Dis gasped as she took the dagger from Mistlynn’s hand before shooting her sons an accusing glare.

“It’s difficult to properly attach a sheath on one’s leg when wearing a fully cinched corset I’ll have you know.” Mistlynn huffed, trying to not make eye contact with any of her companions. Thorin started shaking his head as he started to chuckle.

“What are ye thinkin ya need a dagger for lass?” Dwalin couldn't disguise the humor in his voice, talking over the pained gasps of Fili and Kili who were losing the fight to not laugh.

“It never hurts to be prepared, Master Dwalin. Dinners and events have plenty of opportunity for enemies to take advantage of one’s guard being down.” She gestured emphatically, in turn making Thorin bite his bottom lip to fight the smile threatening to take over his face.

“Sounds like my kind of dinner.” Dwalin groused as he shot Thorin an amused look.

“I don’t know what kind of events you’ve experienced, my dear, but I assure you such measures are not needed.” Balin chuckled, shaking his head his head at his brother’s remark.

Dis gave her sons a stern look. Kili was wiping his eyes as tears of mirth rolled down his cheeks as Fili rubbed his face as he fought to get his snickering under control. She held out her hand to Mistlynn. “I know you Mist!” she growled. “Hand them over. Now.”

Mistlynn’s eyes widened before narrowing as she put her hands on her hips. “I should be allowed at least one weapon on my person!”

“Oh, I know for a fact you have more than one! Now hand them over.” Dis stepped closer, her tone and expression giving no room for argument.

The two dams glared at each other challengingly, before Mistlynn rolled her eyes and growled in defeat. “Fine!” She lifted her skirts, making Balin and Dwalin turn away swiftly in surprise, Dwalin sputtering in shock as Balin just chortled as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “She is Thorin’s One, are you truly surprised?” he asked aloud.

At his comment, Fili and Kili lost the fight and burst out in breathless laughter while Thorin’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline as he watched, dagger after dagger emerge from underneath her skirts. Mist shoved each one, along with their sheaths into Dis’s waiting arms.

By the time Mistlynn was done, Dis was holding six daggers and sheathes in her arms, her look full of sarcasm and resignation. “What? No war mount? I’m almost disappointed.” Dis drawled, as she turned and handed the weapons to a shocked guard.

Mistlynn straightened out her skirts with sharp, jerky movements. “That would be in my wedding gown.” She replied dryly.

Thorin snorted loudly and covered his mouth with his hand, as his nephews continued to die from laughter behind him. They were now leaning against each other, as Dwalin surprisingly gave in and joined in on the laughter.
Balin ran his hands down his beard as he fought to tame his chuckles. “Alright, now that’s done. We don’t want to keep our guests waiting.” He shot a reprimanding look over his shoulder at the princes and his brother, but the sternness was lost as he watched them fight to control their mirth.

Thorin was still standing next to the disgruntled warrior princess, his hands crossed over his chest as he looked up towards the ceiling, trying to get his expression under control. “Six? Were six truly necessary?”

Mistlynn huffed. “If I am to be expected to wear these death traps on a daily basis, I need to ascertain the best way to carry my weapons on my person and how to move in them without tripping myself.”

“It appears you can retire now Dwalin.” Kili snickered, prompting a harmless glare from the fierce warrior. “Mist can protect us poor, defenseless nobles.”

“Utter nonsense, Mist. As future queen, it is unseemly to carry such weaponry within your own kingdom. One dagger perhaps. Not the whole armory!” Dis scolded, as her keen eyes scanned her friends figure suspiciously.

Mistlynn raised her chin defiantly as she wrapped her arm through Thorin’s arm. Dis stepped in front of her and snapped her fingers and held her hand out demandingly. “Hand it over.”

“Dis! She gave you everything!” Thorin protested, eager to move on with their evening.

“No, she didn’t. Last one Mist, I mean it!” Dis stood resolute, authority seeping from her.

Mistlynn rolled her eyes while letting out a frustrated growl. Thorin watched in shock along with everyone else as his fiancé sucked in a deep breath and reached down in between her breasts. After a moment of adjusting herself, she pulled out a long, thin lethal looking dagger with a very lithe sheath over its deadly blade.

Dwalin threw his head back and laughed uproariously, slamming his hand on Thorin’s back who was still staring, his jaw agape in shock. The princes joined in on the laughter anew, their laughs becoming pained gasps as they clutched their aching stomachs. “She puts you to shame brother!” Kili gasped between bouts of laughter.

Thorin was now sharing an incredulous look with his sister. “M’eudail, I’m starting to get the impression you think I am incapable of protecting you in my own kingdom.”

“You and every male in this kingdom gets to walk around with their weapons at their side. Why am I not allowed the same privilege? Instead, I am made to wear these cumbersome gowns and these infernal shoes that make it nearly impossible to walk, let alone run!” Mistlynn’s voice hid none of her frustration.

“It is the duty of Dwarrow’s to protect their women. All dams are precious and are to be protected at all costs. Dam’s may be trained in self-defense with a weapon but to have you fully armed would be seen as an insult to Thorin’s ability to care and protect you.” Balin explained patiently, not at all surprised that Mistlynn was struggling with this matter.

The fire in Mistlynn’s eyes diminished slightly. “That was not my intention. I just feel defenseless and that I’m good for nothing but a trophy.” Her tone was bitter, and she didn’t recognize her error until it was too late to take back. The snickering from Fili and Kili stopped abruptly. Dwalin and Balin looked away uncomfortably. Thorin breathed in deeply and glanced at Dis with an apology evident in his eyes. Dis held her hand up, signaling that she would handle the situation.

Dis pulled herself to her full height, as she looked down at Mistlynn with feigned patience. “We are so much more than a ‘trophy’ as you so eloquently put it.” She stated emotionlessly. “We support our men, and our kingdom by fighting with our wits, with our carefully chosen words. We are not rash, we think before we act, before we speak.” She scolded coolly, making Mistlynn’s face flush in shame. “You may be an accomplished fighter, and more capable defending yourself physically than any dam here in Erebor. But remember that you are not in your kingdom, and that you are indeed a stranger here. A stranger that needs to learn our customs and our social decorum; and accept the fact that things are done differently here, and that they are in place for good reason. You are to become Erebor’s Queen, and more importantly, a wife to my brother and you must humble yourself and accept that you are no longer free to act without reaping the consequences of such childish actions.”

“Dis.” Thorin broke the awkward silence, “She didn’t mean it as insult to you.”

Dis sighed. “I know, but better she hears it from me than somebody else with a sharper tongue who only wants to see her fail.” She grabbed Mistlynn’s chin, who had been looking at her feet to hide her flaming face and forced her to look up. “Never bow your head. You take the criticism, and you learn from it. In front of our people, we must never show weakness, this I know you can do well. We will finish this discussion later.”
Mistlynn swallowed thickly and nodded, keeping her eyes adverted from meeting anyone’s gaze. She could feel Fili and Kili’s sympathetic looks from behind her as they fell into place by Dis, behind her and Thorin.

“Let’s proceed Balin.” Thorin nodded towards the door as he took Mistlynn’s hand and placed it through the crook of his arm. He squeezed her hand comfortingly as he led her after Balin. She couldn’t bring herself to squeeze back, as the doors opened, and a deafening roar of cheering and clapping flooded her ears. She forced a smile onto her face as she stepped out on her One’s arm.

*********************************

*Mistlynn*

She navigated the evening in a distant haze. She had always had the tendency to drift, to detach herself from situations and people in moments of duress. She knew she was safe, and she knew that she was surrounded by friends and those who cared for her. She just couldn’t help the feeling of mortification that had swallowed her after Dis’s thorough tongue lashing. She knew she deserved it, without question. She had behaved abhorrently due to this desperation she found herself fighting in her moments alone.
She couldn’t associate a reason to it, other than the simple fact that she found herself being pulled into a new orbit, away from what she knew. She knew it was for the better, that she chose this path for herself. She didn’t want to live a lie any longer, and the world was so vast and full of wonder. Full of promises for a good life. She was now living a good life, with Thorin, with her new friends and this beautiful city that had arisen from the ashes like a victorious phoenix. It was poetic, really. She had arisen from near death, after losing all that had mattered to her in a world that no longer held anything for her; and had been given a new life, full of the promises of love and beauty.

So why was she fighting it? Why was she so scared of it?

She smiled and nodded to all their well-wishers, her hand holding onto Thorin's muscular forearm tightly. Her cheeks were aching, feeling as if her smile was permanently etched onto her face. She had the perfect answers for each question, showing off her quick wit and gift for effortless, well natured banter.
King Bard accompanied by his beautiful daughters had been a pleasure to meet. His well wishes had been heartfelt, and she found herself thankful they were such close neighbors and allies.
She had spotted King Thranduil across the room as he made his way towards them accompanied by Tauriel and another tall male elf with the same platinum hair as the king. They were impossible to miss, how they seemingly floated across the floor effortlessly.

Besides Tauriel, they were the only pure elves she had ever met. It was startling to see they had the same color hair as hers. Her family were the only ones in the White Kingdom to have the platinum blonde hair, and it had been viewed it as a sign of their royal lineage. She knew that pure elves were immortal, and that there was a strong possibility Thranduil had personally known or knew of her ancestors.
Panic seized her. Was he a distant relative of the slain king? Was he going to seek revenge for the assassination of Thingol and the resulting downfall of Menegroth? She knew her ancestors in Belegost bore none of Nogrod’s dispute over the Nauglamir, and since the priceless necklace was forever lost to the sea amidst the ruins of Beleriand, their innocence was not easy to prove. They were just as blood guilty in the eyes of all elves, this she knew. It had been ingrained in her from her teachings on her grandfather’s lap. Thorin still didn’t know the details of her ancestors and their story. The possibility that her association as Thorin’s betrothed could ruin all alliances with Mirkwood if Thranduil knew or suspected her lineage. She couldn’t let that happen.

Dain, who had been standing next to her and Thorin with Sindri on his arm, noticed Mistlynn’s face was paler than usual and looked to see who was approaching. “Och now lass, pay the pretty tree shagger no mind, eh? He’s harmless, too afraid to muck up his pretty hair.” He whispered over to her conspiringly.

Sindri smacked his arm in admonition. “They can probably hear, ya great lummox.” She seethed, as she shared a long-suffering look with Thorin.

“Just trying to assist the poor lass, she looks like she’s seen a ghost.” Dain grumbled.

Mistlynn couldn’t even bring herself to smile at his attempt of humor as she watched them approach. The events of the day were beginning to weigh on her heavily, and this rather abrupt reminder of her family and kingdom unsettled her greatly. Thorin found her hand and squeezed it, drawing her eyes from the Elf King to him. “Are you alright?” he whispered, thankful that she was once again meeting his gaze. She had been avoiding looking at anyone directly since her exchange with Dis. She nodded stiffly, her jaw tense. What worried him most was how haunted her eyes now appeared.

Thorin turned, smiling politely as Thranduil and Legolas reached them with tame smiles on their faces. Tauriel shot a brief look of concern at Mistlynn from where she stood behind her king before bowing gently before Thorin.

“I’m glad to see you were able to join us.” He nodded amicably towards the elves. “May I introduce my betrothed, Mistlynn.”
Thranduil nodded graciously. “We were honored to receive an invitation to join you in celebrating this happy occasion. I was eager to meet the woman who managed to steal the heart of the King Under the Mountain. It is a pleasure to meet you, my Lady Mistlynn.” His bright grey eyes landed on Mistlynn, and she found herself squeezing Thorin’s hand tightly. It was hard to read him, and his very presence was imposing. She was told stories of the dynamic presence of elves, but she felt those stories were sorely lacking significant details. It was as if he was seeing right through her, peering into her past of her ancestors and their transgressions. She couldn’t help but tremble.

Remembering herself, she curtsied and bowed her head gracefully. She could not allow herself to be cowed. “It is an honor to meet you, King Thranduil.”

“I must say, rumors do not do your exquisite beauty justice. Very seldom have I had the pleasure of meeting a dwarrowdam, let alone one of your stunning features. What kingdom is it that you hail from?” He was looking at her, obviously intrigued yet not surprised that her hair color was a near match to his and his son’s. It felt like her heart was hammering in the back of her throat. He knew something, there was no question of that.

“A small settlement farther North.” Was her edgy reply.

“Interesting. I’ve heard stories that you ride a Dire-Wolf, my lady. It has been many centuries since I have seen or heard of a Dire Wolf rider, not since the Wars of Beleriand. I believe it was Azaghal of Belegost who rode a white Dire-Wolf when he defeated Glaurung, the Father of dragons.”

Her smile was pained as she felt her mask cracking at the mention the famous dwarf warrior king who gave his life to defeat Glaurung. It was his blood that ran through her very veins. She had to change the topic and quickly. “I raised Luna from a pup, and since horses were so hard to come by it was just a natural solution to train her as a mount. Hardly a story of legend.”

Thranduil cocked a lofty brow. “Most interesting.” His smile was coy, “And you traveled all this way on your own? No kin?”

“No, just me. Last of my kin sadly.” She pulled her hand out of Thorin’s and stepped off to the side. “I hope you don’t mind; I must excuse myself. I am absolutely parched and must seek refreshment.”

Thorin looked at her, trying to contain his surprise. “I can have someone fetch you some…”

“I thank you, My King, but I truly don’t mind. I could use a brisk walk anyways; this standing is making my feet ache.” She hoped fervently that desperation wasn’t bleeding through her words, as her eyes implored Thorin to understand her need to leave.

“I could use a drink too, Let me walk with you my dear.” Sindri smiled winningly as she stepped behind Thorin to the other side of Mistlynn, linking her arm through hers. Thorin nodded begrudgingly. “Of course. I’ll find you later.”

Mistlynn tried to not exhale in relief. “It was a pleasure, King Thranduil.” She nodded quickly before turning and practically dragging Sindri alongside in her haste.

“The pleasure was mine.” Thranduil called after her as they watched her walk off and quickly disappear into the crowd.

The muscle in Thorin’s jaw ticked as he stared off in the direction his fiancé disappeared. “I take it you are aware of Mistlynn’s true origins. I’m surprised you know so much of dwarven history,” His words were tense, still not quite grasping why she had lied to Thranduil. Of all the guests to lie to, honestly.

The Elf King chuckled, much to Thorin’s surprise. It was a rare thing for Thranduil to chuckle, let alone while talking with a dwarf. “Belegost and Nogrod were allies to my distant kin in Menegroth. They fought side by side in the Wars of Beleriand and formed the Union of Maedhros. Due to my ties with Beleriand I became curious and made my own inquiries about this mysterious ‘White Kingdom’ and their origins. I gather she is nervous about me knowing about her rather unique lineage. It isn’t hard to deduce that we share common … attributes. Certain characteristics that are not found in your kin, but rather mine.”

Thorin swallowed thickly. “You would be correct in that assumption.” He crossed his arms over his chest, turning his full attention to Thranduil, eyes flashing with an unspoken challenge.

“Legolas, Tauriel. Would you mind giving us a moment?” They both bowed promptly and left. Thorin turned to his left to see that Dain had managed to quietly wander off without him noticing, probably in search of company that didn’t make him so uncomfortable.

“I understand her initial response of withholding such information to a stranger. I will not hold it against her. And after learning about her supposed … lineage and seeing her in person, It lays to rest some of my initial concerns regarding your request to consider a union between your youngest nephew and of my…Emissary.”

Thorin raised his eyebrow as a smirk teased the side of his mouth. “That is good to hear. My nephew will be most pleased, as will Tauriel I’m sure.”

Thranduil nodded. “We now live in the most interesting of times. And I do share your sentiment that we are stronger together than we are apart, especially with the darkness that is starting to rear its ugly head so close to our borders. My forests are becoming more overrun with this evil each passing day,” He paused, and his face became somber. “And I do believe that some of that darkness is heading your way as well. In my search for information, I came across some disturbing stories regarding this White Kingdom. I am not accusing your intended of anything nefarious. But they are not mere nomads. They are a mixed race, all of them, And they possess the unrivaled skillset of both our races, and if my suspicions are correct her line is not to be trifled with.”

Thorin cleared his throat, not liking the route this conversation was going. “What are your concerns exactly about her kingdom? She left of her own accord, due to a family tragedy.”

Thranduil stepped closer to him. “I could not get a direct answer of their standing number. They are guarding their numbers fiercely. I have heard how skilled your intended is in the art of fighting, and I fear their numbers could easily outnumber ours if they choose to do so. Especially if they are as skilled as her.”

“What makes you think they would want to leave their lands to invade ours? What are you not telling me?” Thorin tried to keep his temper level.

“The King of this White Kingdom is said to have one of the last seven rings of your race. And with the evil I know is awakening in our lands, they will not be immune to the influence of that ring if that evil chooses to sway them. You know the power that ring holds.” Thranduil watched an old seeded fear flash through the dwarf king’s eyes. “Just be aware. Her ancestors that escaped Belegost may have not had any part of Nogrod’s treachery, but they lost their kingdom due to the turmoil that followed. They have lost their elven elders due to their fading; we can only speculate what they have been taught regarding our history. There are strong bloodlines of both our races that run strong in her kingdom. We cannot ignore that.”

Thorin nodded in understanding, his mind racing with this information. “Thank you for sharing what you have learned. I haven’t been able to uncover much, and Mistlynn is very reluctant to share such information.”

“Knowing how long her Kingdom has stayed hidden from us, I am not surprised, I am sure she will reveal all to you as time passes. Finding your One is the greatest blessing the Valar has bestowed upon all of us, you both were meant to find one another in this life.”

Thorin’s smile was faint. The Elf King’s words were still racing through his mind. Mistlynn’s odd behavior wasn’t helping his unease either.

“You said you had your suspicions of her lineage …” he let the statement hang in the air, not quite able to bring himself to ask the question.

Thranduil gave him a knowing look. “That is for your Lady to bestow upon you. After all, it is merely a suspicion of mine.”

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.

*****************

**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.

************************

*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!”

*********************

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.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14

*Mistlynn*

Erebor was buzzing with the excitement of the planning. Most were happy that their King had finally found his One, but there were a select few, namely the nobles who traveled from other dwarven kingdoms that had been not so secretly hoping to have their daughters married to the King or his nephews. The room had been full of thunderous applause and smiling faces accompanied by cheers of good wishes.

Thorin was not a king who could be easily manipulated or bought as it were. Once he stated that she was his One, all protests died upon their lips. There was no arguing the ‘Pull’ of dwarven soulmates, and it was a very bitter pill to swallow.
Fili was now in their sights as their last hope to climb further up the social ladder and to be tied forever to the line of Durin, since it was common knowledge that Kili declared the Mirkwood Emissary as his One, and that King Thorin was thinking about giving his blessing on the match.

Mistlynn knew who the spurned daughters were, for they glared at her every time she walked past them whether it be with Thorin or any other friends from the company. She wasn’t surprised, but it didn’t stop the ladies in waiting would be selected from this group of Dwarrowdam’s, she felt the first grips of fear grab hold of her. How was she supposed to be a queen with the noble women openly showing their disdain towards her?
Her heart to heart with Thorin had helped tremendously, even though she could sense there was more he wanted to discuss. For whatever reason he had left it alone for the time being, and she was grateful for that despite hating that the unspoken hung in-between them like an ominous cloud.
With their wedding quickly approaching there wasn’t enough time to discuss everything, their times together had been fewer and farther between due to everything. He was so busy with finishing up a lot of paperwork and project authorizations so that he could enjoy their honeymoon. She didn’t blame him for his absence, and despite everyone’s attempts to keep her busy in the evenings she found herself getting lost in her thoughts, internalizing. She wanted to tell him everything, but the longer it took to broach the subject the harder she found it to bring up.

Today was one of their fittings to fine tune how the dress fit. Normally she would have been talking excitedly with Dori and Dis about all the fine details, but today she was lost in her thoughts, the guilt that had been gnawing away at her for the past couple weeks having worn her thin.

The wedding dress was another work of art. It was a silvery white silk with a fitted bodice with a sweat heart neckline. It was an off the shoulder cut made with effortless layers of silk. Strings of glistening crystals dangled from the edges, the bodice inlaid in intricate patterns of pearl and crystal mimicking the shape and swell of waves. The A-line skirt billowed out in light layers of silver, white and distinctly sapphire blue layers towards the bottom of the skirt. It had a medium length train with the rune of the line of Durin inlaid with pearl and crystal that bustled into elegant folds. Dori and Dis designed it based off what she told everyone about the ocean, and the ice that covered the beaches in the White Kingdom. She had told them she trusted their tastes since she was not accustomed to dresses let alone a wedding dress and what would be appropriate as a queen. It was so thoughtful, and she found herself excited to wear the dress, to see the look on Thorin’s face when he saw her walking towards him.

She was staring unseeingly into her reflection in the giant floor mirror in her room, opposite of her bed. Dis and Dori looked at each other in concern.
Dis clucked her tongue, trying to pull Mistlynn back to the present. “It would be a shame to have your beautiful hair done up, I am thinking half up and half down, show off those gorgeous curls of yours.

Dori nodded exuberantly, “I can have Balin make some hair pins with the extra pearls and crystals too. You will be an absolute vision.”

Mistlynn blinked rapidly, trying to dispel her melancholy and flashed a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I trust you both. You have already outdone yourselves with this dress. I could have never imagined such a beautiful gown. And I have always just braided my hair to keep it out of my face, it has a mind of its own I swear. So, I don’t have much to contribute when it comes to hair styles. “

“We want to stay as close to who you truly are, and not so much fashion. You will be setting the fashions now, mark my words. Less pomp, more natural beauty. As it should be.” Dori smiled as he stood up and back to look over the adjustments he made. “I think that’s it. I should be done with it in a week’s time. Not a moment too soon if you ask me.”

Mistlynn shook her head in wonder. “I can’t believe you made this in just 4 weeks Dori, its truly magnificent. I will never be able to express my gratitude for all your hard work.”

Dori tutted, blushing slightly at her praise. “It has truly been an honor and pleasure to do this for you and Thorin. After everything that has happened, I’m happy to have part in his wedding wielding a needle instead of a sword in a battle! I need to go grab a few more pins to adjust the sleeves and you will be free of me my dear, just one more moment while I run back to my workshop.” Dori walked off briskly, leaving Dis and Mistlynn alone in the room.

Dis walked up behind her and placed her hands on her shoulders, squeezing them gently. “Are you feeling ok? You seem distant.”

Mistlynn nodded, looking away from the mirror and down at the skirt of the dress, touching the fabric in a soothing motion. “I am sorry Dis; I just haven’t been sleeping that well.”

Dis narrowed her eyes. “You would tell me if anything or anyone was bothering you? We are to be sisters-in-law in just a few days, but I am hoping you will come to see me as an actual sister.”

Mistlynn turned quickly to face her. “I do already see you as a sister. I am so grateful to have you in my life Dis.” She sighed, feeling tears spiking in her eyes. “I just miss my family, especially my little brother. I have been thinking a lot about them as the wedding gets close. I never imagined that they wouldn’t be present when I got married.”

Dis nodded. “I understand. That is perfectly normal. Are you sure you don’t want to send them a raven? It’s too late for them to make it now, but you can at least communicate with them that way.”

“I can’t Dis. I am exiled. To them I am no longer amongst the living. Thorin, you, Fili, and Kili. You are all my family now.”

Dis smiled sadly. “I am truly sorry Mistlynn. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you.”

“I am okay. Truly. Don’t worry about me. I am happy, I just have my moments.” Mistlynn reassured her, squeezing her hand.

“Ok, just promise me you will come to me if anything troubles you at all. I know those busybody harpies have been making a show of their pettiness. But they are harmless I hope you know that.” Dis pressed, looking at her friend pointedly.
Mistlynn laughed, her eyes finally getting a spark back in them. “Oh, it would take more than a few petulant dams to ruin my day, I promise you.”

*************

Later that evening…

Balin wasn’t expecting to see an upset expression on Mistlynn’s face when he came to check in on her progress with Ori. Usually, he would find them talking exuberantly about the topic they covered that day. Mistlynn was an eager student and loved to learn and proved to be an avid reader. On this day, however, he found Ori standing at one end of the table, looking disturbed as he flipped through an old, dusty tome.

His eyebrows furrowed in concern, but placed a warm smile on his face as he stepped out of the shadows of the tall bookshelves and into their candle lit sphere. “Good afternoon! I trust lessons went well?”

Ori jumped, too lost in his own thoughts to sense his friend’s presence. “Oh Master Balin! We were just concluding our lesson for the day. Lady Mistlynn just had some questions that I was trying to ascertain an answer for.” Balin took note of the young scholar’s voice, how it cracked and shook with a stress he wasn’t accustomed to hearing from him.

“Care to share with me these questions? I may be able to assist you in finding these answers.” His tone was warm and comforting, directing the question more towards his future Queen than Ori.

The young scholar breathed out a sigh of relief as he bobbed his head animatedly. “Yes, Master Balin, your assistance would be much appreciated. I find myself struggling to understand what Lady Mistlynn is trying to tell me.”

Mistlynn cleared her throat as she squirmed in her seat. She was playing with a strand of her hair, twirling it between her long, pale fingers. A habit, Balin had long taken note of as a nervous tick when she was fighting to find a way to communicate her thoughts.

“I am afraid that you will not be able to assist in this matter, Master Balin. I fear no one can answer my questions.” She leaned back further into the stuffed leather seat, her gaze burning a hole into the table before her, fingers still twirling the distressed curled strand of hair.

Balin chuckled as he pulled the seat that was to her left side out and sat down. “There is always an answer to a question, my dear, it just may not be the answer you are seeking.”

Mistlynn smiled weakly. “My grandfather used to say something along those lines.”

“He sounds like he was a very wise man.” Balin smile was soft and kind as he looked at her fondly.

“You remind me a lot of him. That was the first thought I had when I first met you in the throne room.” She couldn’t help but giggle at the memory and shake her head.
Balin beamed, his eyes twinkling at the memory with a strange fondness. “Aye, I knew you were a special lass, even then.”

“I feel like I can trust you, that you will understand what it is I’m trying to figure out. I need your discretion on this matter.” Her seriousness came swiftly, her tone hushed as her eyes darted from him to Ori than around the silent, darkened library.
Balin raised his eyebrows, intrigued. “Aye lass. You can trust me. I shall try my best to help you in whatever bothers you.”

She looked back at Ori. “You may take notes, but I need you to swear you will not share this with another soul unless I say so.” She stressed.

Ori nodded quickly as he sat down in his seat and reached for his parchment and quill. “Yes! Of course. You have my word.”

She sighed as she sat back again in her seat and resumed playing with her over teased stand of hair laying discarded over her shoulder. “On my spare time I’ve looked into the history of Belegost and Nogrod.” She began, looking down at her hands. “I have been met with dead ends. A full historical account is nowhere to be found in this library. I asked Ori what he knew of my homeland. And it was upsetting to hear that he knew very little.”

Balin nodded thoughtfully. “It was a long time ago lass, and unfortunately with the destruction of those kingdoms a lot of their history was lost, and the survivors where none too eager to document their escape.”

Mistlynn’s face darkened. “Convenient, don’t you think? All historical and political significances lost to the sea and fire of war. One would think that a survivor would want to preserve what happened in every detail, so that the truth was known. So that it could be prevented from happening again in the future?”
The scratch of Ori’s quill was the only sound disrupting the heavy silence. “Do you know what happened Mistlynn?” Balin was trying to tread carefully with his words.

Her eyes flashed; jaw firmly set with a fierceness that spoke volumes. “Yes. And I find it very upsetting that my ancestors are absent from every historical account I’ve seen, as if they were a blight to be eradicated, erased from all living memory as if they never had the right to even exist.”

She breathed in deeply, as if trying to control her rising ire. “It was in the First Age, during the Battle of Unnumbered Tears that my ancestor, Lord Azaghal, lost his life after he slayed Glaurung, the father of all dragons. His son, whose name has been since lost, became Lord of Belegost and lived in harmony alongside the Sindar. He oversaw the construction of the Thousand Caves of Menegroth for King Thingol. The Dwarves of Nogrod were jealous of the relationship my ancestors held with King Thingol, and it proved to be a point of contention until one day all peace was lost over a necklace, known as Nauglamir. Nogrod dwarves assassinated King Thingol for possession of Nauglamir and proceeded to lay waste to Menegroth. That is where your accounts end. That the survivors of Belegost and Nogrod fled to Khazad-dum, and dwarves and elves were destined to despise one other.”

Mistlynn raised her eyes to Balin, seeing his unwavering gaze she continued. “What isn’t in your accounts is this. The Lord of Belegost with his army, tried to stop the sacking of Menegroth, but Nogrod overtook them and branded my ancestors as traitors to their own kin and destroyed Belegost, killing thousands of innocent dwarrowdam’s and children. What isn’t well known, is that before the assassination of King Thingol, Lord Thormor, grandson of Azaghal, had made his intentions known to wed Ilwe, the youngest daughter of Thingol. Proclaimed her as his ‘One.’ That only spurned the fire of Nogrod’s anger. Thormor and Ilwe fled with the survivors of Belegost and Menegroth into the Northern Wastes, away from the savagery and prejudice of Nogrod. They were both scorned for their love and branded as traitors to their races. Ilwe’s name was removed from all accounts as was the name of Lord Thormor. They led my people into the safety of the Northern Wastes, and they thrived. It was a harsh environment, and the elves slowly faded from either the harsh climate or losing their mates and mortal children in death. Soon, all pure elves were buried, joined in the icy waters of the sea, reunited with their loved ones.”

Ori’s quill was scratching furiously as he endeavored to record every detail of this remarkable tale, not once looking up from his task.
If Mistlynn hadn’t been mistaken, Balin’s eyes had become slightly watery during her tale. “I am the product of that traitorous union, Master Balin.” Mistlynn whispered, looking at him earnestly. “My mother is the direct descendant of Thormor and Ilwe, Grandson of Azaghal, forgotten daughter of King Thingol. I am the living reminder that they once lived in this world. How is it that they didn’t even exist according to your accounts?”
Balin let out a shuttered breath as he shook his head, burdened with this newfound sadness. “From my understanding, a lot of wrongs must be made right. And you educating us is the first step in the right direction.”

“Your people come from Khazad-dum, Master Balin with all due respect. How can I expect anyone here to believe me? I know a lot of what I have been taught regarding Arda has been proven false, and I have treated most kind and fair by almost everyone here in Erebor. But no one knows of my lineage. I fear that if that came to light, I would be cast out. How do I know that I will be spared the same hate that forced my ancestors to flee from the safety and presence of our own kind?” Mistlynn leaned forward in her chair, fear evident in her eyes as her voice slightly shook.

Balin looked at her with a pained expression. “Do you honestly think any of us would treat you with such a disgusting manner lass? That Thorin would even condone such wickedness that was inflicted upon your people?”

Mistlynn broke her eye contact and looked off into the dark and lengthened shadows of the library. “I would like to think not, Balin. But how can I be sure when I have been raised to think that our own kind will despise us for the mixed blood that runs in our veins, that we are the traitors when, in fact, we were the ones who tried to stop the bloodshed? So many innocent dwarves and elves were wrongfully slain that day , and its effects, the damage and hurt it inflicted to our people is still felt to this day, many just don’t know or recognize the source it comes from.”

“We are of the line of Durin.” Balin was adamant, the most impassioned she had ever seen him be. “We will not turn a blind eye to the crimes that were inflicted. It grieves me that your ancestors’ names were removed from our records, and that the truth was twisted regarding the downfall of Belegost and Menegroth. This truth must be brought to light, and I swear to you I will not rest until the truth is known amongst our people. And your fiancé will fight right alongside me.”

Mistlynn couldn’t help the sigh of emotional relief that escaped her chest through her lips. “In due time Balin. I want to tread carefully and make sure what I’ve been taught is the truth as well. It seems that we have all been lied to, and I am worried that the truth may be forever lost to us. That such absence of truth will forever keep our people at odds with one another.”

Balin shook his head emphatically. “The truth is never truly lost lass. There is always a way to bring buried truths to light. A certain elven King may prove to have further knowledge of what we are trying to seek.”

Mistlynn’s eyes grew wide in alarm and fear. “No! I do not want to approach King Thranduil with matter until I am certain of his intentions. I worry that he may carry the same prejudices since he more than likely was present during those dark times. I want to make certain of his character.”

Understanding dawned upon Balin as he finally understood why Mistlynn had fled the presence of the Elven King the night of their engagement announcement. Her abrupt absence had bothered Thorin, and he had confided in his worries and relayed the sparse information Thranduil had shared with him.

“I understand and respect your caution lass. But I think King Thranduil already has a good idea of your origins and was not upset in the slightest. Rather, he informed Thorin that he was most eager to speak with you. He shared some concerns regarding the White Kingdom with Thorin as well and was urging for the two of you to speak.”

Mistlynn swallowed thickly, dread settling heavily in her stomach. “He spoke to Thorin about me?”

“Not of specifics, no. Just suspicions. Have you talked to Thorin about any of this, Lass? He would want to be appraised of this information; it carries an important weight to the future of our kingdom I feel.” Balin was hoping he wasn’t pushing her too far, but he knew that it had to be said.

Mistlynn looked down at her lap guiltily. “No, I haven’t found the right time or place to discuss this with him. We have both been so busy, and it’s such a sensitive subject I want to make sure I broach this the right way.”

Balin sighed. “He needs to hear it from you Lass. He deserves to know as soon as possible. I can’t keep this information from him forever, he is my King.”

Balin was giving her an unsettling look. He shook his head as he fought to find the right words. “I feel like it my duty to you, as a friend, to stress the importance of communicating with your One. You can’t hide things from them, especially important things that have some influence over your lives together. You need to tell him.”

Mistlynn couldn’t maintain eye contact. “I will tell him soon, I promise.”

****************

*Mistlynn*

The Next Day…

Hearing a couple gasps and whispers, Dwalin looked over towards the door and saw Mistlynn walking towards his office as Luna kept pace with her. His eyebrows rose in surprise as he stood quickly from his desk and walked over to meet her. “Lass … what are you doing here? Dressed like that no less?” He grew suspicious with her attire choice, her dark eye makeup adding a level of wildness to her appearance he hadn’t seen since he first met her.

“I would like my armor and weapons back please.” Her grin was cat like, as she swayed into his office.

“Och, would ya now?” Dwalin eyed her and Luna suspiciously. “And where are ye off to? In such a state?”

“It’s been a while since Luna and I have been able to run. I could use some fresh air after all this wedding planning.” Her response was light with a slight hardness underlining her tone. She was not open for argument.

“And ye need yer armor and weapons for tha? Have ye discussed this with Thorin?”

Mistlynn’s eyes flashed as he turned to look at Dwalin, the smile gone. “It is my armor, and my weapons. And since I am going to be marrying Thorin, soon to be your queen, should I not be allowed to keep them in my possession? Surely, I am considered more than trustworthy to have them?”

Dwalin rolled his eyes, placing his arms across his chest firmly. Thorin truly had met his match. “I dinnae mean yer things lass; I mean leavin the mount’n.”

Mistlynn blinked. “I don’t need to ask his permission to go on a run, surely. I am a grown woman, and a trained warrior. He is busy besides, and I would hate to bother him with such trivial requests.”

Dwalin considered her carefully. She was a stubborn one and would not take kindly to being told what to do, especially when he had no direct orders to keep her from leaving Erebor and the like. Thorin probably didn’t even think about Mistlynn wanting to leave with all the planning they had to do.

The hardness of her stare softened, and she shed her defensive stance. “Dwalin, I really want to do this. I have a lot on my mind and a run would help a lot. Please let me go, just for a little bit.”

Dwalin sighed as his shoulders loosened. He walked around to the back of his desk and pulled her armor from one of his drawers, before pulling her swords and bow and quiver from a cabinet. Mistlynn reached for them eagerly. “I’d rather ye took someone with ye lass.” Dwalin watched her put on her armor quickly. It fit her well, the way the scales glowed in the light of the room made her gleam, beautiful yet lethal.

She sheathed her dual swords gracefully onto her back before she donned her quiver and picked up her bow. “That isn’t necessary, it is early in the day I will be back long before sunset. Do you happen to have Luna’s saddle and harness?”

Dwalin kept his expression neutral as he reached behind him again and handed over the lightweight harness and saddle. “I’d ave peace of mind if someone rode with ye. Bofur or Bifur perhaps?”

Mistlynn swallowed thickly, her nimble fingers fitting Luna’s harness and saddle onto her back with practiced ease. “They are busy, everyone has things to see to. I don’t want to inconvenience anyone just because I want to go out for a little bit.”

Luna was panting excitedly, tail wagging as she trotted eagerly for the door, Mistlynn following her quickly. “Thank you Dwalin. I will be back soon.”

Dwalin cursed under his breath as he followed. “Orcs are out n bout, Thorin will be fit ta be tied once he finds out ye left ‘ere without an escort.”

Mistlynn didn’t respond immediately. She listened to Dwalin’s footsteps behind her as they walked out into the stables. “Did he specifically tell you that I could not go out?” she finally asked, keeping her voice light and cheery as she swung herself up onto Luna’s back gracefully.

Soldiers and stableboys alike stopped and watched her adjust herself on Luna’s back, not even trying to hide their shock and awe at seeing her atop her dire-wolf mount. She was a sight out of stories of old.

Dwalin growled. “Not in such terms, but I know ‘em and ‘e won’t like ye going without anyone. Let me get some guards ta go with ye if ye dinnae want any of the company!”

Mistlynn was annoyed, but she became pensive as she studied a very concerned and irate Dwalin. She knew she wasn’t being fair to him, and she was putting him in a very difficult situation. She was loathe to realize, let alone admit, that he was probably right about the possibility of orcs and testing Thorin’s patience. After their spar several weeks past, he didn’t deserve her just running off on a ride through the countryside. She had given him enough stress. As his fiancé and future Queen of Erebor, she couldn’t just be running off without a care in the world. It just wasn’t about her anymore. She sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes before looking at Dwalin with a resigned pout.

“Very well, Master Dwalin. You have forced me to see reason. Perhaps you can gather up some of the remaining company and see if they would like to accompany us on a ride? Everyone has been working so hard it will be good for all of us to get out and spend time. I would very much like to surprise Thorin halfway and persuade him to take the rest of the afternoon off. Maybe even an outing under the stars would do us all some good?” She put on her very best attempt of cordial negotiations. She might as well apply all the lessons Dis and Balin had been subjecting her to.

Dwalin’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He looked at her skeptically. “Ye suggestin a picnic now lass? With the company, no warnin to Balin or Dis?”

Mistlynn smiled enchantingly. ‘A picnic sounds quite droll, although food is very much welcome. But I was thinking more along the lines of running through the countryside swinging our shiny, pointy weapons and putting them to good use. Perhaps a fire afterwards if we are feeling especially festive. It’s a week before the wedding after all and I’ll be stuck playing a lady wielding a fan and sharp heels after that. Give me a proper send off to my feral ways.”

Dwalin smirked, his eyes twinkling. “Aye. Would be a shame ta waste such an opportunity.” He looked over his shoulder and gestured to some of the guards to approach. “Now ye promise ta not run off while I go and fetch tha lads?”

Mistlynn grinned as she leaned forward on Luna and stroked her neck. “I swear on my honor, I shall wait patiently for your return with the rest of our band of troublemakers.”

*************
*Thorin*

He was exhausted. It had been a taxing, stressful day full of delegating new construction projects and trade agreements. He was trying to get everything situated before the wedding, and the list of what needed to be done seemed never ending. He hadn’t seen Mistlynn much since the night of their engagement party, and it bothered him. His heart ached to see her, but they both had been pulled in every opposite direction from one other. He was working out a way to make time to see her tonight, other than just sitting next to her in the dining hall. A nice walk along the turret would be nice, or perhaps some dessert and wine next to a fire so they could sit and catch up. He wasn’t picky, he would take any scenario gladly. He needed to make sure she was alright.

Fili and Balin shared a look, both smirking as they recognized the faraway glint in Thorin’s eyes. “Daydreaming Uncle?” Fili teased.

Thorin snorted. “Hardly. I am simply trying to devise a way to escape the madness that seems to befall Dale and Lake Town constantly.”

Balin laughed. “In comparison to Bree, Dale is a walk in the flower fields.”

Thorin rolled his eyes, “Thank the Valar we don’t have to step foot in that disgusting trench of a town again.”

“I wouldn’t mind going back to the Shire and actually enjoy staying there.” Fili added dreamily. “You should take Mistlynn, I am sure she would love it. And Bilbo for that matter.”

Thorin chucked. “Yes, I’m sure they would get along splendidly. Probably gang up on me too over tastes in books and … Is that Luna?” he stared, shocked as a giant white wolf came into view, a rider nearly blending in perfectly into the animals back as it ran at full speed. The armor seemed to glow a silvery blue in the sunlight, and a thick braid of platinum hair rippled in the wind. Even more alarming was the group of riders that followed behind her. As they approached quickly, he soon recognized Luna was in fact accompanied by Dwalin, Kili, Tauriel, Bofur, Bifur, Bombur, Nori, Dori, and Ori.

“Now what do we have here?” Balin was amused as he took in the happy group that approached them. Most of all, appreciating the glow of delight that radiated from Mistlynn as she rode proudly upon Luna’s back.

“Fancy seeing you here, My King.” Mistlynn’s smile was dazzling, as were the smiles from the rest of her companions.

“Where do you think you are going Princess?” Thorin teased.

“I have decided that we have had enough of wedding planning and meetings for today, and that an outing with our closest friends is in order.”

“You’ve decided? Who put you in charge?” He quirked his eyebrow as his smile got wider, not caring to hide his enjoyment of the effortless exchange flowing between them.

“You did, when you put your bead in my hair and announced your intention to wed me.” Mistlynn sassed back, guiding Luna to trot slowly around Thorin’s black steed that was eyeing the dire wolf suspiciously, yet remained calm under his rider’s hand.

The company chuckled heartily at the couple’s banter. “She’s got a point uncle.” Fili laughed.

“Someone is getting comfortable.” He growled playfully as he leaned his arms on the saddle horn, thoroughly enjoying this playful side of her.

“I think it’s a splendid idea; all of us getting out and about like old times. Ori has been stuck in that infernal library for so long I was beginning to fear that he was going to sprout wings and turn into a bat!” Bofur smiled wickedly.

Ori’s mouth gaped open in indignation at Bofur’s jest, his face turning scarlet as the rest of his comrades howled in laughter. “Oi, my work in preserving our culture and history is essential to make sure our next generation doesn’t turn out like you lot!”

Thorin was smiling widely as he watched his friends and nephews’ bicker amongst themselves, Mistlynn occasionally throwing in a well-aimed retort into the mix. She turned her attention back onto him, eyes agleam with mischievousness.

“I challenge you to a race. Whoever reaches the river first wins.” She flashed a grin. Cheers arose around them as they locked eyes. She brought Luna back up alongside Thorin’s steed. Luna was slightly shorter, forcing Mistlynn to look up at him through her lashes demurely.

“What are you hoping to accomplish with a race?”

“I want to see how well you can ride your mount. A dam has every right to know what she has to work with.” Her flirtatious smirk matched her breathy tone. A raucous roar erupted around them, as Thorin felt the tips of his ears redden.

“Cover yer ears lads!” Gloin crowed. Fili and Kili nearly keeled over in their saddles, faces red with incredulous laughter. Ori looked up at the sky, his face now a bright shade of tomato as Nori punched his arm knowing his younger brother was wishing he could run back to the safety of his library, as Dori fanned himself at the mere insinuation.

“Och, ya got to beat er now!” Dwalin snickered as Balin shook his head, failing to hide his smile. “Ye cannae stand for tha!”

He recovered quickly from the shock of the suggestive baiting and smirked naughtily. He raised an eyebrow with a daring glint in his eyes. He kicked his steed forward; its rich black coat glistening as rippling muscle propelled him forward. Mistlynn laughed gleefully as she encouraged Luna after him, heading towards what she assumed was a good starting point for their wager.

Balin rode up ahead of them and turned to face Thorin and Mistlynn, who were now ready to start their race. He saw pouches of money flying back and forth behind them as their comrades placed their bets.

Balin chuckled at the competitive looks Thorin and Mistlynn shot each other, both grinning like daredevils. “Let’s keep this race fair and square, Aye? No cheating!” He waggled his finger as he gave Mistlynn a pointed look. He raised his hand high in the air, prompting both riders to tense at the ready. “Ready …and… GO!”

The wind roared in her ears as Luna flew across the field. She could see Thorin in her peripheral and could hear the thunder of hooves behind her. She grinned, feeling free and light for the first time in what seemed like forever. “Let’s show them fast Luna!”

Luna leapt in response, bolting off like an arrow being shot from a bow. Mistlynn laid herself low, melding herself to Luna’s back so the wind cut over her, allowing her to feel the raw power and speed she had become so addicted to. Her heart was soaring, adrenaline pumping through her body giving her the rush she would never stop craving. A streak of black came back up alongside, prompting her to look over. Thorin was an outstanding rider, as his horse caught up to her with relative ease.

He shot her a teasing grin. “Is that all you got Princess?!”

Her laugh echoed on the wind. “Be careful what you wish for, My King!” Luna lunged forward with a remarkable ease and sped off. Thorin watched in awe as she seemingly became one with Luna, her hair curling and flowing like silken ribbons as she cut through the wind. She was a sight to behold, and he found himself not caring in the slightest about winning this particular race.

**************

Later that evening…

The afternoon had been adventurous, a day that Mistlynn was going to treasure for the rest of her days. She suspected that Thorin had let her win, even if it was by just a few feet. She had run circles around everyone after, letting Luna show off her agility.
Fili and Kili had begged her to let them ride Luna, and that had been entertaining to say the least. Fili was the only one who managed to stay on the longest. She had explained that Luna was a smaller Dire Wolf, and that usually male warriors had to be paired with male Dire Wolves due to their bigger size.
She didn’t catch the look that Thorin, Dwalin and Balin shared at her comment. Everyone else was too enraptured by her tales of her homeland to notice the three dwarves having a very serious conversation with their eyes alone.

They were now gathered around a fire as dusk descended upon them. Tauriel and Mistlynn where sitting by the fire helping Bombur prepare the grouse they had shot earlier for the spit that Bofur and Bifur had built to roast their dinner over the fire.

Thorin had been sitting on a rock observing everyone as they went about their tasks and bantered amongst themselves. It amazed him how well Mistlynn had immersed herself into his life, and how well she got along with his closest family and friends.
Tauriel had become a welcomed member of their group and seemed somewhat relieved that she had another female on her side to even it out. Her and Mistlynn played off each other well. They ganged up on his nephews from the very start of this little excursion and it was immensely entertaining. Mistlynn and Tauriel had a little wager against Fili and Kili on who could shoot more grouse. And the ensuing shenanigans were still the topic of the current bickering session.

“Fili could barely shoot a grazing cow let alone a flying grouse!” Kili was throwing his hands up dramatically trying to defend his loss against their female companions. “Then you have those two, slinging arrows and taking them out as if they were sitting ducks!”

Fili smacked his brother on the back of the head. ‘Hey now! Besides Uncle, I am the only one here who can shoot a damn bow! Show some gratitude!”

“I would have had better luck with Ori and his slingshot! At least he can hit whatever he’s aiming at!”

“I shot three out of the seven you got! I haven’t shot a bow in years!”

Mistlynn and Tauriel exchanged humorous looks as they handed the plucked birds to an eager Bombur who was preparing them for the spit.

“Now, now boys! You both did very well considering who you were up against. It really wasn’t a fair wager to begin with.” Mistlynn smiled, her tone teasing as she watched Tauriel shoot an exasperated Kili a flirtatious wink.
She snuck a look over in Thorin’s direction. He had been silent for most of the evening, as he quietly observed all that happened around him. She didn’t fail to notice that Luna was now laying down against Thorin, her body almost circling him, allowing him to lean up against her side and stroke her ears. She smiled fondly, her stomach fluttering with a warm pleasant emotion akin to something between affection and desire. She watched Thorin’s lips move as he whispered something to the wolf, prompting her raise and turn her head towards the handsome dwarf king. He moved his hand from the top of her head to the bottom of her jaw and he scratched, making her tail ‘thump’ the ground in approval.

She grabbed a couple of plucked grouse that she had set aside for Luna and approached them. She tossed Luna’s meal in-between the wolf’s outstretched front legs before nudging Thorin’s legs apart with her foot, sitting down in front of him then leaning back against his torso.

She felt his chest rumble against her back as he chuckled, savoring the feeling of his breath on the side of her neck as he nuzzled her while deeply breathing in her scent. “Awfully bold of you, teasing me with your closeness in front of everyone.”

She leaned her head back against him so that she could look up into his face. She raised her hand to his cheek, her fingers running along his bearded jaw. The smile on her face was soft as she studied him, taking in every subtle feature of his face to lock it away, savoring this quiet moment under the stars as the flames of the fire danced in the icy shadows of this eyes.
He kept his beard short and neatly trimmed, unlike most Dwarrow’s who prided themselves in their long, intricately styled beards. She found herself appreciating its shortness, allowing her full view of his expressive mouth.
She bit her bottom lip, drawing his eyes to the movement. She watched them darken slightly before he returned his gaze to hers, a corner of his mouth curled upwards in a pleased smirk. He was truly handsome, beautiful even in the most masculine sense. That thought made her smile, her heart skipping a few beats as she reveled in the thought that he was soon to be bonded to her fully in every sense possible.

“I can’t help myself. Seeing how well you ride your mount has me craving your closeness.” Her fingers traced his jawline to his chin, silently beckoning him to lean in closer to her. She ran the pad of her thumb across his bottom lip, knowingly testing his resolve as she watched his pupils blow open wide, black as obsidian and fathomless as the night sky darkening above them.
She barely noticed his arm come up from behind her to rest upon her shoulders until he was pulling her closer to him. Her hand slid from his jaw into his thick raven waves, effectively pulling him down towards her lips. It was a gentle kiss, slow and tender as they melted into one another, their surroundings fading away into a faint hum of faraway laughter and the merry crackling of the fire.
She breathed him in deeply, inhaling his spicy scent of leather, forge fire and summer wind greedily, not fully realizing how starved she had been for his kisses until that very moment. She nipped his bottom lip, making him gasp in surprise as she took her chance to fully devour him, her tongue dancing languidly with his. She didn’t want to acknowledge the terrifying thought of how easy it was to lose herself in him, how he could pull her under, completely submerge her in this state of absolute bliss.

They became so lost in one another that they didn’t notice their comrades had fallen completely silent. A loud, teasing ‘Oooooohhhhhhhhhh!” brought their surroundings back into sharp focus, making them pull apart slowly, breathing heavily as they rested their foreheads together to regain full function of their senses. Shrill whistles and loud clapping surrounded them along with coy laughter.

“Och now! Save something for after the ceremony aye?!”

“Dinnae know ye could hold yer breathe tha well!”

“Now that’s a kiss lads! She probably can’t tell which way is up or down!”

Mistlynn felt her cheeks redden and burn as she buried her face into the crook of his neck and shoulder. She released his hair from her grasp and clutched to his thick coat, anchoring herself back to reality. She could feel him chuckling again, his hand rubbing her back comfortingly as she fought to get control of her blush.

“Now that is why I pressed for a short engagement. You two wouldn’t be able to keep your hands to yourselves until spring!” She heard Balin chortle, not even trying to hide his amusement. “Spring wedding my beard!”

“I’ve never doubted your wisdom.” Thorin couldn’t help the shy yet beaming smile that took over his face. As he scanned the faces of his friends and family, he only saw happiness and fondness mirrored back.

“Dinnae think I ever see ya twitterpated.” Dwalin snickered good naturedly. Seeing his cousin and closest friend smiling so freely; so unabashedly smitten and happy with someone gave him, along with everyone else present a hope he had not felt since their younger years, before the claws of death and loss had torn their innocence from them.

“I eagerly await the day when I come across you snogging your ‘One’, and I can tease you to the brink of insanity.” Thorin teased back, wiggling his thick eyebrows suggestively at his friend.

“Oh! I know of a certain dam that owns a certain bakery that can’t seem to keep her eyes off him whenever he stops by for those cinnamon rolls of hers. He can’t seem to get enough of them!” Nori goaded as he twirled his smaller dagger in his hands as he grinned at Dwalin over the flames of the fire.

Dwalin paled slightly as he sent a death glare in Nori’s direction as everyone erupted in another bout of teasing and demanding details.

Thorin laughed heartily, “You're not as subtle as you think you are my friend.”

“Dwalin is as subtle as a war hammer!” Nori snickered.

“I’ve seen her, she’s very pretty.” Tauriel grinned as Kili’s arms tightened around her.

“Amralime, I am wounded! You’ve known about Dwalin’s lady love, and you did not share your intel?” Kili looked at her incredulously.

‘Durin’s beard! She’s justa friend! Nothin more!” Dwalin sputtered indignantly as he started to sharpen his axe with a renewed vigor, keeping his eyes down.

“No need to be bashful now! There is no shame in it, the likes of us getting the chance to find our Ones and finally settling down and enjoying life!” Bofur skillfully filled his pipe as he spoke, then quickly lit it. He puffed a few smoke circles out into the night sky before he stood up and walked over to Dwalin. He was grinning broadly as he held the pipe out to the embarrassed warrior. “You're not the only one who has found his lady love I’ll have you know!”

“Wait…you too?” Fili’s eyes were wide, pulling his own pipe out of his mouth in surprise. “How do you know?”

“It hits ye like lightnin.” Dwalin growled before taking a deep huff off Bofur’s pipe. “There is no denyin it.” Bofur nodded with a soft smile on his face.

“But you said she’s just a friend.” Kili wiggled his eyebrows, earning himself a sharp jab from Tauriel’s elbow in his side.

“She is. For now.” Was the simple gruff reply.

Fili and Kili frowned. “I mean no disrespect Dwalin, but why? Why not just be with her?” Fili’s question was genuine. Watching his uncle fight his pull to Mistlynn for so long had been hard to observe.

“To accept your ‘One’ and the bond you share with them is no small thing, Laddie.” Balin answered for his brother, who he knew was struggling to find the right words. “It is life changing. And when you have fought and survived as many battles as some of us it can be a terrifying thing, to allow someone to see those monsters that haunt the shadows of your dreams. To be that open with someone, even if it is your soulmate, can take some time to accept.” As he finished, he looked at Dwalin pointedly before he looked over at Thorin.

Mistlynn was no longer hiding her face in Thorin’s neck. She was still snuggled against him, her hands grasped firmly in his as she watched the conversation unfold before her. She had seen such glimpses of those monsters that haunted Thorin, and she couldn't deny they made her realize how sheltered she had been in her homeland. Even she was still fighting with the vulnerability Balin spoke of, and she could only imagine how much harder it had to have been for Thorin. She saw the same pain in Dwalin’s eyes.

“I have to make a conscious effort to avoid her bakery.” Mistlynn spoke up, immediately gaining the attention of everyone. “Dis has informed me that baked goods, if enjoyed too much, can wreak havoc on a dam’s waistline.” She exaggerated a pout on her lips. “And I’m pretty sure Dori will help Dis braid my hair around my head to cover my mouth if I threaten my ability to fit into my wedding dress.”

Laughter filled the air. “You better believe I would!” Dori chuckled as he shook a finger at her. “You will have plenty of time to indulge in baked goods after the wedding.”

Mistlynn sighed dreamily. “I look forward to more of her cinnamon buns.”

Equally appreciative groans filled the air as everyone started to list off their favorite items from the renowned bakery. Dwalin was staring at her, a slight smile fighting to make itself known under his thick beard. “So, yer the one who keeps beatin me to em.”

Her grin was cat like. “First come first serve my dear fellow.” She leaned away from Thorin and closer to Dwalin. “But if you were to ask me about the one she sets aside for you just in case you were to come in instead of one of your men, I cannot confirm nor deny such a rumor. But I will say, in strictest confidences she is patiently waiting for you to grace her with your presence. And is eager to accept your invitation to accompany you to the royal wedding.”

Dwalin’s bushy eyebrows were raised as high as they could go. “My invitation?”

Mistlynn snuggled back into Thorin’s chest. “You heard me, you old battle axe. Now what are you going to do about it?”

Thorin’s following laughter was the loudest out of all of them.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15

*Thorin*

6 days later – Night before the wedding – private dining hall –

It was surreal, sitting at the head of the table during their rehearsal dinner and catching all the mundane conversations going on around him. Mistlynn was radiant in another gown Dis and Dori had designed for her. They were enjoying having her as their living mannequin for their creative ideas. He kept glancing over at her, sitting to his right with her attention directed to Dain and Sindri and the lively discussion they were having with the rest of the table.

The high-backed collar and shoulders of her steel blue dress was constructed in a thick silver and gold material, perfectly mimicking the dragon scales of her unique armor. The greyish blue of the fitted bodice inlaid with silver scaled designs faded into a full skirt, as the fading sky of dusk transforms into the deep midnight hue. She was the ideal complement of him, a radiant light to his dark, no doubt the intentional design of his sister to showcase a united, unbreakable front.

He couldn't believe that they would be wed by this time tomorrow, forever bound to her and she to him. He hadn't had a chance to really talk to her since that afternoon they had all managed to take off, when she had let her walls down to show him the fun-loving side of her in contrast to the ever present anguish that simmered beneath her nonchalant demeanor. He knew It was a mask she put on, to defend herself. He, of course, saw through it. And so did everyone else in their close circle.

She acted like her breakdown and the following conversation the night of their engagement party had never happened. He also knew there were things she was keeping to herself. She remained aloof whenever mention of the White Kingdom or her family came up in topic, always quick to change the subject in a very eloquent manner. She outright refused to discuss the Elven King of Mirkwood, and what her complete aversion to him was. Two years prior, he wouldn't dream to argue her decision to avoid, but now that he had gotten to know Thranduil as an ally, they had an mutual regard and understanding, She refused to explain her reasons for lying to him on during their introduction, and Thranduil's words had come to haunt him.

With last minute preparations for the wedding, he hadn't had a chance to talk to her about it more. It worried him how effortless it was for her to act like everything was ok when he knew she was struggling, whether it be with her relationship with him or from the problems she was running from.

But what weighed on him the most was her account of what happened to her and Argos. The more he thought about what happened to her and her brother, the more It didn't sit well with him, nor did it add up. The little he had seen of Mistlynn's combat skills he knew that her kingdom was very proficient with their training and knew that they relied heavily on being prepared for everything. Their very survival in that harsh of a climate depended on strategy.

He could see them coming across the wrong drake, that would be an understandable error, but the fact their weapons specifically designed for slaying one were seemingly sabotaged. If he didn't know better, it was as if someone had been trying to assassinate her and her brother and play it off as an accident, and that disturbed him.

Not to mention her passing comments about the large Dire wolves that were assigned to their seasoned warriors. Thranduil's words of warning echoed loudly in his head. He didn't think she was purposefully keeping information of importance from him purposefully. She was wicked smart with a sharp wit. Book smart. But when it came to the cruel reality of the world, she was innocent. She knew only what she had been taught, and he had a strong suspicion that it was a twisted history of propaganda.

Her musical laughter pulled him from his thoughts along with a swift kick to the shin from Dis who sat on his left. He jumped, shooting her a murderous glare only to be met by Dis's in turn. She leaned closer to him, flashing him a toothy smile as she grits out, "Instead of being lost in your thoughts you should be paying attention to your bride-to-be and guests, not attempting to melt your goblet with your stare."

"It's not like that Dis." He growled back at her, picking up said goblet to take a drink.

"You could have fooled me." She patted his arm firmly. "Ok! The hour is late! It is time for the bride to get her beauty sleep! Big day tomorrow!" the private dining hall erupted in vivacious cheering. In a flurry of giggling ladies Mistlynn was swept up from her chair and was being ushered from the room.

He pushed his chair out and stood, cursing himself internally for not engaging her in more conversation. He had been so lost in chaos of the day and then later in his thoughts that he had lost track of the time. Mistlynn looked over her shoulder and met his gaze, sending him a shy smile before she disappeared through the doorway.

He was paying no mind to the jeering and sounds of merrymaking around him as he fought down the nerves that had been flitting off and on in his gut.

"Come cousin! Let us celebrate your pending nuptials!" Dain summoned from his seat, and the jeers of his closest comrades echoed their agreement.

He felt a hand land solidly on his shoulder, forcing him to tear his gaze away from the door she disappeared from. Dwalin was standing next to him, looking at him with question of his mental wellbeing shining in his eyes. They had always been able to have the deepest conversations with just looks passed between them. He nodded stiffly and let out a shaky sigh. "It's been a long day." He murmured as he rubbed a hand over his face.

Dwalin grunted in acknowledgment, before teasing his childhood friend. "Come along now. Yer bride isna goin nowhere."

******************

*Mistlynn*

She tossed for several hours in the gigantic bed, listening to Luna snore. Dis, Sindri and Gemlinn had fussed over her for a couple hours; making her bathe in a luxurious bath of perfumed oils and tamed her long wild curls into a thick braid.

They giggled and joked about their own weddings, making Mistlynn blush on more than one occasion as sordid memories of their wedding nights became part of the conversation. She had an idea of what occurred on the wedding night. Her people dwelled in tents, so it didn't leave much for the imagination. And she had a few rendezvous with a few Dwarrow's, nothing past kissing and wandering hands. But that was the most of her experiences. However, just the thought of the noises she heard from many a blushing bride made her stomach turn anxiously. Not all the noises she heard sounded like ones of utmost pleasure .

She swallowed thickly, trying to calm her fluttering heart. She was never going to sleep at this rate, She threw the covers back and rolled out of bed. She quickly grabbed her furred slippers and the heavy coat that Thorin had gifted her. "Going out for a little walk, Luna." Luna looked up at her from her bed, wagged her tail gently and then flopped back down with a resigned huff. She was now accustomed to her new lifestyle and wasn't complaining about a soft, feather bed or warm hearth. It didn't escape her how ironic it was her wolf was more accepting of their new lifestyle than she was.

She opened the door quietly and peeked her head out, to be greeted by an empty corridor dimly lit with flickering torch light. She ducked out and walked in the shadows, eager to get a walk by herself before her life changed for forever.

She lost track of time as she walked. There were guards posted along the corridors, but they didn't even blink or look after her as she walked past them.

Ahead of her she saw two guards standing posted in front of an ornate door. Curious, she approached, the guards once again not saying anything about her presence. The door was open halfway. She peered in, and saw Thorin sitting at his desk, looking over what looked like some paperwork.

She looked back at the guards, still standing exactly as they were. She had been expecting them to send her on her way, but they didn't. They didn't question her presence. This new position she now held was still a culture shock for her and she was always second guessing herself. She was trying to keep Dis, Balin and especially Thorin from having to clean up any misunderstandings or offense she could cause.

She hadn't been treated with such reverence by her people, so how to handle one's personal guard or being bowed or curtsied to as she walked by was uncomfortable. She was never expected to ever inherit her father's throne, Valinn was too strong and domineering a figure. Her older brother was everything a fierce warrior king of the White Kingdom was expected to be. His inheritance was unquestioned and never challenged. Before her mother had passed, her father had been a striking figure as well. His strength waned then perished beneath the icy waters where she had been laid to rest. Where her father kneeled in pained reverence to a ghost, her brother rose with an icy cold fist and calculating eye. He was ruthless and would lead with a fierceness unrivaled by anyone.

She hadn't realized until recently how thankful she was to be free of Valinn and his constant judgment and harassment of her. It was hard to believe that they were twins. They shared nothing between them besides the blood that ran through their veins and day of their birth.

She stood in the doorway for a moment and studied her fiancé, the legendary Thorin Oakenshield as he sifted through papers, lost in his thoughts as he scanned through the intricate writing. He was a powerful figure as well, with his dark countenance and striking features. One pointed glare could freeze one in place, and his strong voice alone could inspire fear if he so wished. But he wasn't cold hearted like Valinn. He had a sense of justice and fairness that surrounded him. He cared for his people, and loved his family and closest friends and wasn't afraid to show it.

She knew he was the better King, and she found herself praising Mahal for this blessing. Where Valinn lived in his own world and forsook the council of others, Thorin had seen the world, traveled, and lived through the very best of times and crawled out broken and scarred from the very worst of times. She was exactly where she was meant to be, by his side helping him rule his kingdom, no matter the sacrifices she was going to have to make. This sudden realization comforted her, and some of her nervousness dissipated and was replaced with a fluttering excitement.

She knocked lightly on the door, making Thorin look up abruptly in her direction. He pushed his chair back and stood up. "Mistlynn. Is everything alright?"

She stepped into the room; her arms folded over her chest. What was she even doing there? She couldn't even come up with a good reason. "I couldn't sleep." She shrugged, looking distractedly over at the roaring fire in the impressive green granite fireplace. "Just a lot going through my mind, it's a big day for the both of us tomorrow."

He was studying her thoughtfully, a small smile playing with the corner of his mouth, "I confess I couldn't sleep either. If my sister found us both out of our beds, she would bring the whole mountain down on our heads."

Mistlynn laughed while nodding. "That she would. She better not find out then."

He chuckled. "She has eyes and ears everywhere." His smile grew when she snorted.

"You could have warned me about that earlier. Her having eyes on the back of her perfect hair."

Thorin laughed loudly. "Where would the fun be in that? I've quite enjoyed watching the two of you squabble like two hens in a coop." He teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

'You wound me My King!" She giggled as she approached him with a coy smirk on her face. "And here I thought we might have a nice pre wedding conversation, since our chances for quiet moments have been few and far between thus far." She stopped directly in front of him, her eyes not leaving his as she placed a shaky hand upon his abdomen.

He wasn't wearing his usual heavy jacket; he had draped it over the back of his chair. His tunic sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off his muscular forearms. She licked her lips at the realization that this was the first time she had just seen him in just a tunic. She could feel the heat radiating off him, his ab muscles flinching slightly at her soft touch as she slowly ran her hand up his front, the dark blue linen warm from his body heat. The laces were untied, exposing his neck in a loose v further exposing his chest. She felt him hold his breath as her fingers reached the tunics opening, allowing her fingers to glide over the soft curly black hair that covered his sculpted chest. Her mouth became dry as she realized how defined he was, each ripple of muscle evident to her touch through the thin linen.

"Mistlynn." She heard his rough whisper, breaking her from her reverie as her hand slowly traced the hard ridges of his shoulders before coming back to rest of his exposed chest.

A shy smile played with her lips as she looked up at him through her thick lashes, "Does this bother you?"

Thorin huffed, a chuckle escaping his part lips. "Gods no." His hand reached up and took ahold of hers, threading his fingers through hers. "I love the feeling of your hands on me." She could feel his heart racing in his chest, matching the tempo of hers.

She savored the feeling of standing so close to him, feeling his warmth, and breathing in his scent she had begun to crave. "Tomorrow night, we will be able to be together freely, even though I am at a little bit of a loss of what that all entails." She blushed, once again embarrassed at her naivety.

"I have not experienced a lot when it comes to intimacy, but much to my never-ending horror I was given a play by play of such details by Dain, Bombur, and Gloin." His chuckle made his chest rumble, making the tingling in her fingers intensify.

"No doubt just as horrifying as the stories that Dis, Sindri and Gemlinn confided in me tonight." Her blush deepened as she bit her bottom lip, trying to stop herself from laughing nervously. er HerHer

"I don't know which one of us had it worse." Thorin teased, enjoying watching her cheeks and ears flush a rosy hue.

"I did." She scoffed, "Most definitely me, the details would horrify you sir, and I will have to see and converse with both your cousin and Master Gloin tomorrow knowing full and well what their wives enjoy the most of their intimate attentions."

He took another step so that their bodies were just barely touching, making her gasp involuntarily when she felt his lips brush the shell of her ear. "By this time tomorrow night I am confident you will no longer carry that burden. You will be too preoccupied with your own pleasure."

Her breath caught in her throat as the low timbre of his velvety voice washed over her as if it was a warm surging tide. Her eyes fluttered shut as she turned her head slightly to brush her nose against the juncture where his jaw met his neck. "You promise?" she whispered breathlessly.

His answering chuckle sent hot puffs of air against her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. He cupped the side of her face with his hand and pulled back to look down at her with a loving gaze. Her eyes fluttered back open, meeting his gaze with her own. She was losing herself in his ocean eyes, powerful and wild as her beloved North Sea. "I adore your eyes." She whispered, "They remind me of home, of the ocean and the ice that glows in the sun when it washes ashore."

He smiled softly, running his thumb up and down her cheek. "Do you miss it? Home?"

Her eyes started to glisten, reminding him of blades of grass with beads of dew sparkling in the dawn. "Sometimes. Not as much as I used to. You're become my home faster than I ever thought possible."

Astonishment flashed across his face at her confession. It was the closest thing to love she had ever admitted. 'You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that." His laugh was light as he felt his heart leap with a joy that he had seldom felt in his life. He had known she was drawn to him, and that she wasn't fighting it. But it was starting to scare him that she was starting to regret agreeing to marrying him so soon, that she wasn't truly in love with him but rather felt the lust that had overwhelmed them in the beginning of their pull.

Her answering smile was tumultuous, and he felt his heart stutter in his chest painfully. "What is it M'eudail? What is troubling you?"

She shook her head. Balin's voice, telling her she needs to tell him everything, echoed in her head like an annoying conscience scolding her. She hated herself for being so vulnerable, allowing herself this weakness of heart at the mere touch of his hand. "There is so much to say, I just don't know where to begin." Her voice was shaky. "I'm scared that it will be too much."

He tilted his head slightly to the side as he studied her. He could see the fear evident in her big, teary eyes. "What is this about? Is it about tomorrow?" She shook her head quickly, and right before him her mask slipped back into place. She pushed herself up onto her toes, melding her lips to his in a searing kiss. She threw her arms over his shoulders and pulled him down to her. He let her lead, troubled by her swift change of emotion.

He groaned against her lips as she desperately clung to him, as if trying to convince herself that he was truly there in her arms, that he was hers completely.

He put his hands on her face, cupping it gently as he tried to soften and slow her down. "Mist." He whispered against her lips as if her name was a sacred prayer. "Talk to me."

She pulled back, as if startled out of her lustful trance. "I'm ok Thorin." She gasped for air as she willed her heart to stop racing. "I am just nervous, as every bride is before her wedding day."

It was like a knife stab to the heart when she recognized the hurt that replaced the love that had been in his eyes just moments earlier. She cursed herself for being such a coward, for being unable to give herself fully to him like had to her, for hurting him this way.

She watched his arm drop to his side, his hands balling tightly into fists before relaxing them. He sighed heavily, nodding slightly as if willing himself to accept her blatant lie as truth. "Ok, I'll let you have that tonight, but we will come back to this later." He paused, and the air between them grows thick. "It's probably best you go back and get some rest. Dis will be merciless on timing tomorrow."

***************

She didn't remember the walk back to her room. It seemed she just blinked, and she was standing before her door, her knuckles white as her hand shakily gripped the handle. She couldn't believe she lost her nerve, just to come clean and tell him everything. A jolt of shame ripped through her, causing her to yank the door open and rush inside the dark room. It was nearly black, the fire reduced to mere embers that glowed orange and red like molten metal. Luna had heard her return and greeted her at the door. She whined and headbutted her shoulder. Mistlynn leaned back against the closed door, sighing heavily.

"What is wrong with me Luna? Why can't I tell him?" Luna's eyes glowed ocher in the dark, Mistlynn could swear that there was serious judgment in them. "Don't look at me like that! You're supposed to be on my side."

A sassy growl rippled out of the white wolf's muzzle. "What is the point anyway! I'm exiled, it's not like I am ever going to see my father or Valinn again. I don't understand why Balin is so insistent that I tell him."

Luna sat on her haunches and barked sharply. Mistlynn rubbed her hands over her face in frustration. "I will tell him. I will! It's just got to be the right time."

Luna let out a forceful sneeze before she got back up in an act of dismissal and walked back towards the bed.

"Wonderful, I just lost an argument with my dire wolf." She collapsed in the overstuffed chair next to her dying fire. She couldn't bring herself to throw more logs on the fire, instead she just stared into the glowing, crackling depths of ash and coals. "If he doesn't know, he won't have a reason to change his mind about me." She whispered to herself as she angrily wiped the tears that were silently streaming down her face.

Chapter Text

Chapter 16

*Thorin*

He could hear the dull roar from the crowd waiting in the Great Hall, as countless, excited conversations melded into one. He paced, slow and deliberate, from one end of the room to the other. Things were running slightly behind schedule, but he kept a calm head. He had been expecting some kind of delay to take shape in some form or another. The realization that he would wait for her, no matter how long, wasn’t an alarming one for him to come to terms with. He had resigned himself to the fact that he would do anything for her, and strangely enough, that thought didn’t scare him in the slightest. It was the most natural thing for him to accept and carry with the utmost honor.

The door opened, drawing him away from his musings. It was Fili, looking slightly out of breath. “It’s Mistlynn. She’s asking for you.”

He raised a dark eyebrow. “Asking for me?”

Fili nodded emphatically. “Yes, now, this very moment. Amad is in the middle of a righteous rampage and is demanding you get there quickly.”

Fighting to contain a surge of alarm, he followed his nephew from the room and walked briskly beside him. “What happened?” He whispered low and urgent, trying to keep a low profile as they hastened down a private hallway towards the royal suites.
Fili shrugged in exasperation. “I don’t know. Everything was fine until Bifur showed up to escort her and she just started demanding to talk to you, I guess. Amad, Sindri, Gemlinn, even Tauriel tried to help but she refused to talk to anyone but you.”

He couldn’t help but feel dread, as it settled cold and heavy in the pit of his stomach. “She said nothing else?”

“No, nothing.”

He sighed. He looked straight ahead and braced himself. They reached the room quickly. Dis was pacing the hall like a caged lion, combative and short tempered. When she saw him, she walked directly to him, a firm purpose set ablaze in her eyes. “I don’t know what to do with her brother. Obstinate woman refuses to talk to anyone. Says she needs to speak to you. But you cannot see her! Its tradition you don’t see her until she walks down the aisle to you in front of the anvil. So, you will have to speak to her Royal Stubbornness from the other side of the door. Its ajar. She’s waiting. Fix it! Mahal knows you’re the only one who can!”

Thorin couldn't help but snicker at his irate sister. “Don’t worry yourself. Ceremony can’t start without us.” he teased.

Dis glared at him, unimpressed. “If you don’t hurry, I am going to throw Kili and Tauriel up there! The house of Durin is never late.” She huffed before motioning everyone away from the door to give them their privacy.

Thorin smirked as he looked over at a shocked Tauriel. “Don’t scare her away now, your son will never forgive you.”

Dis proceeded to smack and push him towards the door as he laughed, holding his hands up in sign of admitted defeat. He took a deep breath and approached the door that was left ajar. He noticed the shadow at the bottom on the door, as if someone was crouched in front of it. “Mistlynn?” he called gently, trying to exude calmness in his voice.

He heard a rapid rustling of fabric, then some muffled cursing and thuds as he imagined her scrambling clumsily to her feet. He couldn’t help but smile, “Thorin?” he heard her voice squeak.

“Yes. I am here.”

He watched in amusement as her hand appeared along the edge of the door, reaching out and seeking his hand. “Dis says you can’t see me before the ceremony because of some superstitious hogshite.” He heard her grumble.
He chuckled as he linked his fingers through hers, allowing her to clench them tightly. He stood as close to the edge of the door as he dared, running his thumb over the back of her hand comfortingly. “What is wrong M’eudail?” He found himself wishing that most of their conversations didn’t start along that topic point.

“Nothing is wrong!” he heard her growl as her grip tightened on his hand, clinging to him as if he was her only lifeline. “I…I just wanted…I wanted to hear your voice. I needed to hear your voice.” Her voice was shaking as she stammered as if bashful of such an admittance.

He let out a sigh of relief, closing his eyes briefly as he pushed all negativity out of his head. She just wanted to talk to him, calm her nerves. He had no doubt she was nervous. He slowly raised her hand up to his lips and kissed it tenderly. He felt her grip lessen.

“It’s okay to be nervous you know. You should have seen Dis on her wedding day. Her knees wobbled like a newborn deer as our father walked her down to Vili.” He smiled fondly at the memory. He heard a faint giggle from the other side of the door, and he allowed himself to smile at the victory.

“You don’t seem nervous.” She sounded nervous stating this fact. He looked down at her dainty hand that was firmly clasped in his calloused, scarred hand. He drew his thumbs over her knuckles again, attempting to soothe the slight tremor he felt.

“That’s because I’m not.” He stated truthfully. A brief silence fell over them.

“Why are you not nervous?” her voice had become timid.

“Because you are my One. The other part of my soul that I have been blessed to share this life with. I have no doubt of that.”

Her grip tightened again. “Thorin, what does M’eudail mean? I’ve been meaning to ask you; I’ve never heard it before.” Her voice sounded closer, as if she had moved closer to the edge of the door as well. He could have sworn he saw a little platinum curl sway out from the edge of the door before he heard another rustle of fabric as she adjusted her position against the door to get as close as possible to him.
He cleared his throat and took a moment to carefully select his words. “Well, you wouldn’t. It’s from the Iron Hills, they have their own tongue besides Khuzdul. My Amad was from the Iron Hills, so she taught my siblings and I bits and pieces of it. M’eudail means ‘My darling, or sweetheart.”

He was met with silence as she processed this revelation. “But…but you’ve been calling me that since we first met.”

“I’m aware.” He couldn’t help but sound amused. “I told you; you’ve had my heart from the very moment I looked into your eyes. It just took my head a moment to catch up with my heart, so to speak.”

He felt her grip relax completely. The door creaked slightly, the gap between them widening slightly. “Thorin…” Her voice sounded like she was right next to him. Her hand pulled his gently, urging him to step closer towards the edge. He peeked around the edge and was greeted by her bright sea green eyes shining with unshed tears. He smiled gently as he looked at her with all the love he possessed within him. Their eyes spoke volumes more than words could ever express. After a moment he watched her eyes crinkle with happiness. “I’ll see you up there.”

He couldn’t help but grin at her words. He brought her hand back up to his lips for a final kiss. “I’ll be eagerly waiting.”

*******************

He walked down the long aisle that led to where Balin stood behind the ceremonial anvil of Mahal. He couldn't help the small smile on his face as he strode proudly, nodding occasionally at his guests and subjects as they smiled and bowed in respect as he passed. Dwalin, Fili and Kili followed behind him so they could take their place beside him as his witnesses.

Balin was beaming at him with uncontained joy and pride as he took his place in front of the anvil. He nodded toward his oldest friend and closest advisor before he turned back around to face the filled hall. As his eyes scanned their numerous guests, he felt Dwalin tap his shoulder. He looked back and was surprised to see an actual toothy grin on his normally serious friend. Dwalin nodded towards his far left, guiding Thorin's gaze to see two people he didn’t expect to see.
There in the front where the original company of Thorin Oakenshield sat in their places of honor, sat no other than Gandalf the Grey and Bilbo Baggins. He fought to keep his emotions under control at the sight of his close friends. He couldn’t believe that they had made it in time. Bilbo was grinning from ear to ear, not caring that his eyes were brimming with the happiest of tears, seeing one of his dearest friends finally happy. He watched Bilbo wipe his eyes with a handkerchief with great amusement, the irony not lost on him as he remembered the beginning of their journey just a few years prior. Gandalf was smiling smugly, obviously pleased that he had managed to surprise the stoic dwarf king.

Thorin’s attention was diverted to the main doors of the hall as airy music began to play from the orchestra and choir, and Dis, Sindri and Tauriel walked out behind one another dressed in elegant, flowing gowns of sapphire blue. Dis was now smiling broadly, sending her brother a conspiring wink as she stepped up to stand as Mistlynn’s witness. Tauriel was behind Sindri, taller than everyone on the platform but she fit in none the less, her long copper hair braided intricately in dwarven fashion, proudly showing off Kili’s courting braid and beads. Thorin couldn’t believe they were all here, present in this very moment; all unified and celebrating his impending union with his One in the great halls of his forefathers. Dwarves, Man, and Elves alike.

Everyone in the hall simultaneously turned towards the elegantly carved doors and gasps of awe echoed in waves through the audience. Just the sight of her stole Thorin’s breath from his chest.

His mind went blank as he watched Bifur, dressed in his absolute finest as one of the highest honored warriors in Erebor, guide Mistlynn in all her breathtaking beauty down the aisle. Her dress was a work of art, the perfect blend of crystal white silk, pearls and crystals glistening like the salt crystals of a crested wave, flowing perfectly into the deepest color of Durin’s blue towards the bottom of the skirt and train. Her hair was down, a flawless river of smooth white, blonde curls cascading down her back. She held in her hand one of the most beautiful array of flowers he had ever seen, he knew they were not the flowers her and Dis had chosen. Dreamy white Larkspur were broken up by sapphire blue hydrangeas. Sprigs of lavender were strategically placed along with Lily of the valley. Bluish purple sweet peas, tweedia and clematis made up the rest of the body of the bouquet. No doubt the handiwork of his ever loyal and supportive burglar.

He couldn’t control the tears that suddenly threatened to overtake him as he fought to regain his breath. Shifting his weight from one foot to another, he brought a clenched fist up to his mouth to keep the unshed tears in his eyes in check. Mistlynn’s eyes found his, and a beautiful smile enhanced her already striking face. A rare, blissful grin graced Thorin's, making his friends and family lose their fight to not shed tears of joy. It was as if the weight of being a King was forgotten and he was just a Dwarrow, marrying his One. Thorin and Mistlynn were unaware of the teary eyes and smiles that surrounded them, having eyes only for each other.

Bifur speaking his part in transferring Mistlynn’s hand from his into Thorin's passed in a dreamlike haze, as they became lost in each other's eyes. Balin began his speech, about the blessing and sanctity of finding your One and being bound for life in matrimony. They stood facing one another, hands clasped in-between them. Thorin caught a glimpse of Mistlynn’s bare toes peeking out from the front of her skirts before she shifted to hide her bare feet again. Thorin raised an eyebrow at her, unable to contain an amused smirk as she gave him a daring wink. She must have kicked off her shoes when Dis wasn’t looking.

“Thorin, repeat after me the seven blessings. ‘Mamahdun Mahal ku’ muha sullu Khama-akrazu Sulladad. Blessed are you Mahal who has created everything for the glory of Eru.
Mamahdun Mahal ku muha kamin, abbad ra hanad. Blessed are you Mahal who fashioned the earth, the mountains, and the hills.
Mamahdun Mahal ku muha ibin ra ritih ni kurdu id-abad. Blessed are you Mahal who fashioned the gems and metals in the heart of the mountain.
Mamahdun Mahal ku muha khazad ra barraf haded. Blessed are you Mahal who fashioned the dwarves and the seven houses.
Mamahdun Mahal ku gashara khazaa atrab d’amzur ibin ra tithih ni kurdu id-adab. Blessed are you Mahal who taught the dwarves the skill to work the gems and metals in the heart of the mountain.
Mamahdun Mahal ku mahgayada dumma tur naddanhu. Blessed are you Mahal who gladdens our Halls through his children.
Mamahdun Mahal ku’ mahgayada mayasthun ra mayasthuna. Blessed are you Mahal who gladdens groom and bride.”

Thorin’s deep baritone carried confidently as he repeated the vows flawlessly, not once taking his eyes off Mistlynn. When it was her turn to repeat after Balin, she tightened her grip on his hands as she spoke with conviction. He couldn't help but smile brightly as the blessings rolled off her tongue flawlessly.

“Thorin, repeat after me your vow to Mistlynn. ‘Ni dume zasamkhikiya zahar, ni kurduzi zamkhihi azhar. In my Halls you will find a house, in your heart I will find a home.’ “

Mistlynn’s heart raced as Thorin recited his final vow to her, his thumbs tracing her knuckles as she felt shiver run down her spine.

“Mistlynn, repeat after me your vow to Thorin. ‘Ni dumzu zamhkiki zahar, ni kurdume zasamkhihi azhar. In your Halls, I will find a house, in my heart you will find a home.”

She couldn’t help the tremor that slightly shook her voice as she repeated her final vow, squeezing his hands again as if apologizing for her sweaty palms. Thorin’s smile only grew brighter as she finished her vow.

“You may now exchange the rings that will symbolize your love and dedication to one another.” Balin instructed.

Dwalin and Dis handed the couple their rings. Mistlynn’s eyes grew wide in shock as Thorin slid a gorgeous cushion cut sapphire surrounded by glittering diamonds on a gold band bearing the elegantly carved rune of Durin’s house. Her throat became tight with emotion as she watched it glitter brightly on her finger, radiant against the pale skin of her hand, a perfect reflection of her new house and of her husband’s eyes. With a slight tremble she slid Thorin’s ring onto his finger before grasping each other's hands.

Balin turned to grab the marriage ale that had been placed on a small table behind him. Normally the marriage ale was served to the newlywed couple by the Groom’s father, and Balin was given the distinctive honor of stepping into Thrain’s place.
He handed the frothy cold pint to Thorin to drink from first. Thorin new Mistlynn despised ale, unbeknownst to everyone but Balin, he had changed the ale to her favorite apple cider. Thorin had to fight not to laugh as he watched Mistlynn take the pint with a fake bravado from his hands and bring it to her lips, expecting the bitter taste of ale to flood her mouth. Her eyes grew comically wide as soon as she took a big gulp of the cider before wrinkling her nose at him accusingly as she fought the urge to smile as well.

“It is with the greatest honor than I now pronounce you as Husband and Wife. You may now kiss the bride.” Balin announced exuberantly.

Thorin stepped forward, placing a hand gently to the side of her face before dipping down and capturing her lips eagerly. A deafening roar of cheering, clapping, and whistling thundered around them as they reveled in their first kiss as husband and wife. Getting lost in the moment, she threw her arms up around his neck and pulled him closer. Thorin chuckled against her lips at her vigor. He pulled back after a moment, nuzzling his nose against hers before placing a final kiss on her forehead before turning towards the cheering crowd. “Shall we, my Queen?”

************************

When Fili had told her that his mother knew how to throw a party, he hadn’t been joking. Their reception was being held in the gardens King Thror had built for Thorin and Dis’s grandmother. Not one seat remained empty as all were eager to experience the reception. Dwarven parties were legendary, and the King of Erebor’s wedding reception was going to be no exception.

It was the first event that had welcomed outsiders to witness the majesty and beauty of Erebor, a monumental occasion that would be the first in dwarven history. King Thorin was becoming quickly known, far and wide, for his free thinking and unprejudiced views towards the other races of Arda, a far cry from his attitude and views just a couple years prior. And now that he had taken a bride of elven lineage, Erebor was the pinnacle of equality and forward thinking, and their wedding was the event of the century besides the taking back of Erebor and defeating Smaug.

White garlands of silk and giant clusters of various white and dark blue flowers were strewn across the courtyard on tall poles holding giant, glittering lanterns cut from the purest crystal that sent starlike prisms across the stone floor. The sun was setting behind the distant mountains, cascading vibrant hues of pink, orange, and purples across the darkening sky. The stars were starting to emerge, twinkling, and sparkling through the gossamer canopies that sheltered the tables and banquet tables. Bright, merry fires were burning in strategically giant vats, emitting heat for the guests against the slight chill of the impending night.

“Dis, you have truly outdone yourself! This is just gorgeous!” Bilbo stammered in awe as he followed Dis out into the courtyard.

“Thank you, Bilbo. Mistlynn let Dori and I have full reign; she was so overwhelmed with everything else. I do hope her and Thorin don’t think it’s too much.”

Bilbo couldn’t help his incredulous stare. He looked over at Dori who was flitting from table to table, checking to make sure everything was perfect. “He sure has found his calling, hasn’t he? Hard to think we were all slaying goblins and orcs together just two years ago.”

Bofur laughed, overhearing Bilbo as he approached his friends, escorting a beautiful red headed Dam on his arm. “Oh aye. The dressmaker, event planner, tea taster extraordinaire. We are all boring and old now.”

“Not boring or old, Amralime.” The dam scolded playfully as she smiled fondly at the toymaker. “Master Baggins, I have heard so much about you from these fools. It’s a pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance. My name is Raila.”

Bilbo’s eyes twinkled. “The pleasure is mine, Miss Raila.”

“The bouquet you brought was beautiful. You must share with me your knowledge of such blooms, yours put mine to shame.”

Bilbo blinked as he looked at Bofur and Dis in confusion. “She owns the biggest flower market here in Erebor. That is how we met, when I helped Thorin buy out the entire market after he proposed to Mistlynn.” Bofur laughed, obviously proud of his One’s achievements.

The hobbit flushed. “Oh, I am terribly sorry, I didn’t mean to replace or downplay your work. It was a beautiful bouquet. I picked those flowers from my own garden, as a representation of them as a couple. I had Gandalf preserve it with one of his spells so that she may keep it if she likes.”

Raila smiled brightly. “Do not apologize! As I said, I want to expand the blooms I carry and learn more of their meaning. Bofur told me how you use flowers as a sort of language of expression which is just fascinating and so romantic. I was even hoping to ask you if you would be interested in making my bridal bouquet when the time comes.” The red headed beauty smiled as she twirled her courting braid in her fingers.

“I would be delighted! I didn’t know you had proposed! My congratulations to you both!” Bilbo drew his friend into an excitable hug.

“MASTER BOGGINS!”

Bilbo jumped back from the grinning toymaker to turn and greet the Durin princes that were making their way over to him. Bilbo’s eyebrows were raised in surprise when he saw Tauriel was on the youngest Durin’s arm.
“Kili! Tauriel!” He greeted before embracing the grinning prince.

“Hey, don’t be greedy, its my turn brother!” Fili shoved his brother playfully to the side to embrace their friend.

Bilbo couldn’t help the grin on his face. His dear friends were happy and thriving better than he ever could have hoped. “What’s this Fili? No dam on your arm?”

Fili laughed as he shrugged. “No, I am as free as a bird at the moment.” His grin was sheepish.

“Much to the delight of the young noble dams.” Kili teased, wiggling his eyebrows at the eldest prince.

Fili cringed, making everyone laugh. “Durin’s beard Kili, it’s not funny. I had to run and hide under uncles desk the other day. I had a whole swarm of them stalking me.”

“Aye, Thorin was crying he was laughing so hard.” Bofur snickered.

“Who knew the one thing to make him laugh was my never-ending torment and misery.” Fili pouted, as he tried to ignore the group of giggling dwarrowdam’s that were eyeing him from across the courtyard.

“Oh rubbish.” Dis tutted. “Your uncle served his time being the most sought out bachelor in our kingdom. That honorable title now falls to you.”

Kili snickered, earning him a glare from his brother. “Watch yourself brother. I may just convince Tauriel here that I am the better choice, and you can have the coveted title of most eligible bachelor prince of Erebor.”

Tauriel’s musical laugh joined everyone else’s at the brother’s playful banter. “Too bad we already banter like siblings, otherwise I would be tempted.”

“Knock it off the lot of you.” Dis tried to disguise her laughter with playful scolding. “Dearest Bilbo, see what I must put up with? Thank goodness I now have Mistlynn on my side. One down, two more to go!”

“She’s the worst one out of all of us!” Fili snorted.

Horns sounded, announcing the arrival of the King and of his new Queen. Thunderous applause and cheers erupted around them as Thorin and Mistlynn stepped through the doors and made their way down the stairs leading into the courtyard.

Bilbo couldn’t believe how much Thorin looked like he was a century younger, his face radiating a happiness he had only caught in brief moments that were too few and far between. The newlywed couple were beaming as they waved at their guests before they made their way towards their group of friends.

“Bilbo! I can’t believe you were able to make it in time!” Thorin grinned as he drew Bilbo into a giant bear hug. “Mistlynn said you managed to sneak back there before the ceremony.”

Bilbo chuckled. “I’ve got to keep my burglar skills in practice, just in case they are needed again.”

“Durin’s beard I hope not!” Thorin laughed heartedly as he stepped back from the hobbit and put his arm around a smiling Mistlynn.

“With all the tales I’ve heard, I feel like I already know you.” Mistlynn grinned. “Thank you for the bouquet again, they are the most beautiful flowers I have ever seen.”

“I harvested them from my own garden. It is a gift to the both of you, wishing you both a peaceful and harmonious life together. They also represent purity of heart and beauty of spirit; a returning to happiness after trials; of your devotion and friendship to one another as well as the perseverance you both possess. Least of all praising Mistlynn’s beauty, ingenuity, and wit. The perfect trifecta for Erebor’s queen.”

Mistlynn hugged Bilbo after his explanation of her flowers, touched by the thoughtfulness he put into picking them and arranging them for her.

“Perfect indeed.” Thorin smiled. “Now, I am curious as to how you got here so quickly. Is there a shortcut I am not aware of?”

“A wizard never gives away his secrets.” A playful chuckle answered him, as Gandalf the Grey approached. The wizard smiled warmly at Mistlynn, bowing his head slightly. “It is truly a pleasure to meet you my dear, I have been most eager to make your acquaintance.”

“Aye, he led us on a longer route for the mere sport of it.” Dwalin’s voice groused as he approached with his date, the strawberry blonde Rosalynn on his arm, much to Mistlynn’s obvious delight. She left Thorin’s side to pull her friend into an excitable hug.

Bilbo’s eyes grew wide in surprise. “You too Dwalin? Great Yavanna, you all have been slacking regarding the tea in your letters.” He looked accusingly back at Dis, Dori, Bofur and Ori, his most frequent correspondents.

“I have been frightfully busy; I’ll have you know Master Baggins.” Dori retorted, waving his hand around at their surroundings.

“You all have been busy! Looks like I’ll have to consider another three weddings in the near future.”

“He started it.” Bofur laughed, motioning towards Thorin.

“Kili started it actually. Uncle was a close second.” Fili pointed out.

“Aye, he has a whole year on me. We didn’t even have the front gates fixed before he was harassing me to allow him to court Tauriel.”

Gandalf raised his bushy eyebrows, humored by the dwarves banter. He took this moment to study Mistlynn as she talked to Rosalynn, Tauriel and Dis. She had been most unexpected, and the gossip of her lineage and the White Kingdom that was starting to spread throughout Arda. She was a rare beauty that couldn’t help commanding the attention of every being in the room with her radiant smile, sparkling green eyes and musical laugh. But what lay underneath her femininity was a powerful body of a fearless warrior, along with that certain fiery glint in her eyes that spoke of a fierce determination. Things were being set into motion beyond what most could see, in a pattern so intricate and far reaching not even he couldn’t fully fathom the countless possibilities that lay ahead.

Thorin was seemingly unaware of how influential he had become and how far reaching the stories were of his new reign as he rebuilt Erebor from the rubble and ash into a beautiful stronghold of the North. His strong alliances with Dale and Mirkwood were particularly surprising, especially for other elven kingdoms when Thranduil was renowned for being difficult and a recluse, seldom open for outside negotiations.
He could see how much Thorin had changed, how his very being exuded a powerful happiness and strength unlike anything he had seen in centuries. He was far more dangerous to the dark forces now than ever before, especially with Mistlynn at his side as his Queen. They were a formidable couple, on the brink of something so beautiful yet delicate he dared not breath a word of it in case he jinxed it.
He would be keeping a close eye on Erebor, without raising the suspicion of his fellow guardians or the wary natures of the dwarves.

******************************

The night overtook the dusk as the frivolity reached its peak. The food was excellent and was hailed as Bombur’s greatest achievement yet and the wine and ale flowed freely as the guests mingled without any ensuing drama.

Thorin had managed to convince Mistlynn to join him on the dance floor under the white gossamer tent that was alight with the twinkling prisms of the crystal chandeliers and led her into a graceful waltz. She forgot her nerves as their eyes locked. His hand was splayed on the small of her back, his other hand holding hers aloft as he guided them across the floor, seemingly floating as if on a cloud. Her dress billowed like a sparkling cloud behind her, making all the ladies and young girls gasp and sigh as the crystals played with the torch and firelight.

“You’ve been practicing.’ Thorin gave her a disarming smile, his eyes soft and tender.

She giggled, unable to tear her gaze away from his as she felt herself soaking in their ocean blue depths. “Fili, Kili and Dis have been most generous with teaching me all the lively dances. It was Balin who taught me how to enjoy the waltz.”

Thorin laughed in genuine surprise. “Balin? I haven’t seen him dance since I was a lad.”

“He gave me a few lessons in the library after my studies. Bofur was kind enough to play the fiddle for us.”

His eyes twinkled brightly, identical to the way waves crashed and sparkled in the sunlight. “You are truly remarkable. I feel like I don’t tell you that enough.”

She couldn’t help a faint blush from coloring his cheeks, her blood becoming hotter with his praise. She bit her bottom lip shyly as she looked up from under her lashes. He pulled her closer, as he fought to find the right words to explain how he felt his heart was so full it could burst at any given moment. He had never known such intoxicating happiness. “I am yours, Mistlynn. In every way. You have brought me such happiness, I never thought I could be capable of feeling such joy. You are everything that I have been fighting and searching for my entire life, the moon that lights my way in the darkest night.”

She couldn’t help the watery laugh that escaped her lips as she felt his beautiful words wash over her as they glided to the beautiful melody of the orchestra. “And you have my heart Thorin, blackened and bruised but yours. You are the water that has soothes my soul, as the ocean shapes the shore you ground me, bringing me to a home I’ve always yearned for.”

The waltz came to a graceful end, allowing Thorin to kiss his new bride under the picturesque tent and starry night sky. Applause for the royal couples first dance as husband and wife surrounded them before the sound of Gandalf’s fireworks diverted the crowds attention. Mistlynn let out a startled gasp as she jumped at the abrupt crackle then thunderous pop as showers of glittering color rained down from the sky.
Thorin chuckled as he watched her take in the beautiful display, her face lighting up with an awestruck joy as the fireworks showered down around them as if made by stardust.

Gandalf smirked at the crowds reactions to his fireworks. With a puff of his pipe, the smoke turned into bird like shapes that spun and arched into the air. With a flick of his hand more shot out into the night, a collective gasp of awe rippling through the crowd.
Mistlynn giggled as sparkling birds of golden light swooped and fluttered between her and Thorin. “Show off.” Thorin chuckled as he shot the wizard an amused look.
He felt Mistlynn reach for his hand and thread her fingers through his. “He is giving us the perfect cover to sneak out.” She whispered shakily, excitement and nervousness coloring her voice as she gave him a shy smile.

His lips quirked into knowing smile. He brought her hand up to his lips, kissing her knuckles tenderly as he gazed lovingly into her eyes. “Excellent observation, M’eudail.” With that, he stepped back, tugging her gently to follow him towards the arched exit.

**********************

*Mistlynn*

She tried not to think about the fact that they were now alone, and that they were no longer required to have chaperones nearby. Because they were married. Great fire balls of dragon breath, it was their wedding night! All her prior bravado and lustful daydreaming vanished into the night air like a wisp of smoke.
Her hands gripped the skirt of her dress tighter as she heard the door close behind her. She swallowed thickly. Thorin was now her husband. Blessed Yavanna, now what?

She turned quickly, working up her nerve to look him in the eye. “Now what?”

Thorin had been in the middle of shrugging off his heavy formal jacket. He paused, trying to process her abrupt question. He observed her with a raised brow, her hands clenching and unclenching in her shimmering skirt. Her chin was held high, poised. Too poised, he noted with a smirk. She was nervous. He couldn’t help but laugh as he finished removing his jacket and tossing it over the back of one of chairs by the fire.

Mistlynn blinked rapidy. “I’m sorry, that came out aggressive.”

“How about we get a drink and just relax?” He chuckled, an amused smirk still present on his face.

Mistlynn nodded eagerly, relieved at his suggestion. “Yes, that sounds perfect.” She was rooted to where she stood, watching him from a safe distance as she watched him pour two glasses of wine from the decanter. With that infuriating smirk still on his face, he approached her slowly, his ocean eyes shining brightly in the darkened room. Her throat was suddenly dry, as she remembered how he felt under her exploring hand the night prior. He was once again down to just a dark blue tunic, laces undone and showing off a fair amount of his sculpted chest.
He held out her glass to her, breaking her dazed stare from his chest. His smile became wicked. “My eyes are up here.” He teased, enjoying the effects of his words as she flushed crimson across her cheeks. She took a big gulp of her wine, adverting her eyes to the floor, the safest place she could find.

He threw his head back and laughed, “I was joking!”

“I know that! I just, I mean I’m not meaning to ogle you rudely, I am just admiring your…shirt. It’s a nice shirt.”

Thorin, greatly amused by her stammering, looked down at his shirt before returning his teasing gaze back to her. “You like my shirt? Is that all?”

“It is a … very n-nice shirt. It’s well fitted and…well.” She threw back the rest of her wine In one big gulp, to stop herself from making a bigger, blithering fool of herself.

Thorin stepped close to her in alarm, grabbing her hand that held the now empty wine glass. “Slow down Mist. This isn’t a race.”

“Fili called it liquid courage. And I need some of that!” she giggled as she wiped her mouth with the back of her free hand. “Another please?” She wiggled the glass towards him, batting her eyelashes at him.

“Am I making you nervous, my Lady? I haven’t even tried wooing you yet.” His eyes were twinkling with a beautiful, mischievous glint. Yes, she was in danger of submitting to his wiles there was no denying that fact. He removed the glass from her hand, holding it skillfully in the same hand he held his in so that he could kiss the back of her proferred hand.

‘You have been undressing me with your eyes ever since you put this ring on my finger, you blue eyed devil.” She pulled her hand out of his grasp and waggled her finger at him as she walked around him and towards the blazing hearth.
He growled playfully, watching her walk away from him with a hungry gaze burning in his eyes. “My wife is a goddess, as radiant and breathtaking as the stars in the heavens. How can I help but not ravish you with my eyes?”

Mistlynn’s giggle was music to his ears as she swayed her hips until she stood in front of the hearth before looking over her shoulder. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere. But that wicked tongue of yours just might.”

It was his turn to blush slightly as he laughed, walking back to grab the wine decanter before approaching her again. “My wicked tongue? You're one to talk M’eudail.”

Instead of sitting in a chair she sank to the floor cross-legged. The skirt of her gown billowed up around her like a billowy cloud. She giggled at the absurdity of it and pushed her hands down on the skirt, making air rush out.

He sat down across from her, setting the decanter down beside him before handing her the refilled glass. “Thank you.” She purred.

“You’re welcome.” He stretched his legs out, crossing one over the other than stretched back against the front of the couch.

She eyed his empty hands suspiciously. “Where is your glass?”

“I’ve had enough for tonight. I had several drinks with dinner before we came up here.”

She watched mesmerized as he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows before crossing his arms over his chest and settled in comfortably. She licked her lips distractedly. “Bastard.” She muttered before taking a sip of her wine.

He cocked an eyebrow. “What was that?” he chuckled, knowing full well what she said.

She held his gaze as she twirled the wine in her glass. “You heard me. Rolling up your sleeves like it’s a perfectly normal thing to do. You don’t play fair.”

He chuckled, deep and rumbling in his chest as he pushed himself upright in order stretch and flex his arms, his muscles rippling like powerful waves under the thin linen before bracing his hands behind his head and resettling against the couch once more. “I didn’t realize we were playing a game.” His eyes were dark and hooded as he smirked at her from underneath his thick dark lashes, obviously enjoying her growing frustration.

She clicked the roof of her mouth with her tongue before downing the rest of her wine. She set the glass down firmly before she began to sift through her hair, removing the pins that held her curls in place. One by one, they fell around her face, framing it within their platinum lustre.

His fingers twitched behind his head as he ached to thread his fingers through her luscious river of curls. He watched her slowly rise to her knees to shake out her hair fully before gathering it all in her hand and twisting it all over her right shoulder. He adored her hair, how its color rivaled that of the purest starlight as it twisted and spiraled in its untamable splendor. Her green eyes twinkled as if they were cut from the finest peridot in Erebor, molten with both desire and apprehension. Her cheeks were rosy from the two glasses of wine she had managed to devour, her lips swollen and rosebud red from her teeth nibbling them nervously. She was a vision, and he felt a surge of both joy and pride that she was his, in all her wild beauty and fiery spirit.
He unlaced his fingers from the back of his head and rested his elbows on the cushion of the couch, his smile soft as he reveled in the sight of her. “You are so beautiful Mistlynn.” He whispered; his voice deep yet soft like crushed velvet.

She bit her bottom lip as her blush deepened, “So are you. Wait, no, n-not beautiful but handsome. Very handsome. Oh, for heaven’s sake the wine isn’t helping at all!”
His smile and laughing eyes made her heart stutter, then melt. She was consumed with a fire she was struggling to identify that made her skin hot and tingly. Her fingers were itching to reach for him, to feel his hard body firmly against hers.
Before she could think twice, she launched herself at him, rather clumsily due to the bulk of her dress. She found herself half laying on his chest, half splayed on the carpeted floor from her dress catching. ‘Infernal dress.” She muttered, cursing her clumsy, failed attempt to jump him. Before she could pull herself up, she felt his hands encircle her waist and lift her effortlessly onto his lap as if she weighed nothing.
She was now looking down into his captivating eyes, her nose just a breath away from touching his. His shoulders where strong and warm under her palms. It was hard for her to focus as she felt the heat of his hands seep through the bodice of her dress, scorching her skin gloriously.

“We will go at your pace, M’eudail. Nothing must happen tonight if you don’t wish it to.” His whisper was soft and caring, as he felt her tremble against him.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “I-I thought it was…I thought certain marital acts were expected…or required…”

He cupped the side of her face soothingly. “No. I want you to want this. To lay with me without fear or because it is expected. I will be perfectly content to hold you in my arms tonight. And we can see how you feel tomorrow.” He brushed her cheek with his thumb gently as he watched her process his words.

For a moment, she searched his gaze before she reached a decision. She breathed in deeply as she ran her hands achingly slow up the sides of his neck until she reached his lower jaw. She tilted his head up slightly as she brought her lips down to meet his with a slow yet powerful kiss. They soon lost themselves in the kiss as they explored and tasted one another, their lips moving effortlessly in a sensual dance as they taught one another. He had one hand buried in her hair as the other rested on the small of her back, steadying her as she explored his torso with her curious hands.
Thorin’s surprised gasp turned into a breathy moan against her lips as her hands found the hem of his tunic and proceeded to continue their exploration on his bare skin. Featherlight touches of her fingers traced his abdominals inch by glorious inch, mapping each rippled muscle with a growing hunger she was fighting to keep tame. She ran her hands slowly up his side, making herself pull away as she looked at him, seeking his permission.
He gave her subtle nod and lifted his arms up so that she could remove the offending garment with ease. He leaned back against the couch, watching her look at him with awe and hunger shining in her eyes.
He swallowed thickly as she ran her hand up over his well-defined pectorals and traced the outline of his tattoos inked in black and grey, starting in the middle of his pec muscles and moving up onto his broad shoulders and down both biceps. “I’ve never seen such detailed tattoos such as these.” She marveled in a quiet voice, as she traced the detailed feathers of a raven’s wing artistically etched into his skin. “They are beautifully done.”

“I am fortunate to know a couple skilled artists.” His voice was raspy and thick as he fought to keep his self-control present, knowing she didn’t realize the effect her hands on his bare skin had on him.

Her gaze landed and stopped on his left shoulder, focusing in on the raised scarring that disrupted the tattoo there. Her eyes widened is horror as she realized the shape the scars made. “You were bitten by a dire wolf?” She gasped.
He shook his head, his smile rueful. “No, a warg. It’s a nasty wolf like creature the Orcs like to breed and ride.”

Her hands shook as she traced the giant bitemark that had broken most of the left side of his torso. “When did this happen? They don’t look very old.”

“Almost two years ago now. It was from Azog’s white warg. It was during our journey here, to reclaim Erebor that they had cornered us. I had thought he was dead, and I was blinded by anger, so I attacked him hoping to allow some time for the boys and the rest of the company to escape. It was Bilbo who saved me, distracted Azog until the others joined the fight.”

Mistlynn caressed the scars as she listened to him. “Balin and Ori told me a little about your journey, and the perils you faced. They told me that if It hadn’t been for the mithril mail you, Fili and Kili wore during the Battle of Five Armies you would all be dead by Azog’s hand.” Her voice become choked, it fully hitting her how close it had been to losing them, losing him; taken from her before they ever had a chance to meet. The very thought sent a jolt of pain through her chest.

He placed his hand over hers, removing it from the offending scar and brought it up to his lips, allowing him to gently kiss her fingertips. “No good comes from thinking about what could have happened.” He soothed. “Especially when you have me at a very distinct disadvantage, shirtless and entirely at your mercy.”

She giggled softly. “You're right, How inconsiderate of me.” She smiled a coy smile as she placed her hands behind him on the couch cushions and pushed herself to her feet. She stepped back from him, and turned around, gathering her hair over her shoulder to expose her back. “Would you care to assist me in removing my dress, Yasun?”

**************

***Yasun - Khuzdul for 'husband

Chapter Text

Chapter 17

Thorin inhaled a ragged breath as he watched Mistlynn moved her hair over her shoulder to reveal the laces of her dress. He got to his feet, swallowing thickly in attempt to reign in his raging emotions. His hands began to tremble as he reached for her. This reaction unnerved him, he had always been levelheaded and steadfast but just the thought of having Mistlynn in every way possible had him elated and terrified all at the same time.

“The laces are too hard for me; would you please undo them?” She couldn’t help the flirtatious smirk that played with her lips as she cast a shy look over her shoulder at him.

“Of course, M’eudail.” Thorin stepped closer to Mistlynn, his breath cascading down the side of her neck as he slowly undid the laces one by one until they loosened around her. Mistlynn felt his light touch slowly moving up her back before using both hands to push the shoulders of her dress, causing it to fall and pool around her feet. She could feel the heat from his body as it seeped into hers from their close proximity as his fingers toyed with the airy fabric of her chemise before resting on her delicate waist.

All at once his mouth was on her neck, slowly kissing from the base of her ear to the top of her shoulder. The wetness of his lips caused her skin to prickle in the cool air, her nipples now exposed through her light sheath, becoming taut and hard. She felt his hardness pressing against her low back, inspiring an audible moan to escape her lips. The sound that escaped from her lips surprised her, her growing desire for him outweighing the nervousness of such promised intimacy.
Her moan caused his grip, one hand around her waist and the other now at the back of her neck, to tighten in a way that was so secure yet erotic she couldn’t believe she had ever lived without his touch. She craved him in a way she had never felt and knew in that moment she would never get enough of this, of him branding her with his fingers.

Mistlynn turned slowly to face him, stepping out from of her dress so that she stood with her heaving chest touching his. “You’re overdressed.” Her voice was as soft and warm as fresh honey as she slowly traced a trembling finger from the scar on his shoulder down the lines of battles he had fought that mapped his torso until she reached the waistband of his trousers. She found herself clenching her thighs together as a hot desire between her legs pooled heavily, becoming nearly too much to bear.

She grabbed Thorin by the back of his neck and pulled him down to her, crashing her lips against his. He hummed in approval as he returned her kiss eagerly. His hands ran from her face down her body, committing every curve to memory before he lifted her into the air, grasping her thighs tightly in his hands as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
Thorin walked them to the bed and placed her on the edge of it with such ease she was shocked at the sheer power and raw strength of his body as she felt his muscles move under her palms, hard and smooth as if he had been perfectly carved from the very rock of the mountain she now called home.

She looked up at him through her lashes, her blown pupils shining in the same faint light of the fire that caressed his skin. Golden light danced sensually with the shadows across his torso as she let her fingers trail down his back before she spread her hands over the v shaped muscles of his hips.
“I must confess something.” Her voice was raspy, as if she was thirsty as she allowed herself the pleasure of running a hand over his lower abs.

His chuckle was deep, the tone of his voice dark and velvety. “You have my undivided attention.” The sexy smirk that he flashed at her was absolute sin.

She licked her bottom lip before biting it, her eyes not leaving his as she let her fingers trace him. “You’re a brute, using that smile on me.”

The smile became devious, his eyes twinkling. He leaned down towards her, purposefully slow and taunting as a predator stalking its prey. “What were you going to confess?”

She felt the mattress dip as he placed his hands on either side of her hips, effectively caging her in. He lowered his face to hers, grinning broadly at the shy smile that toyed with her mouth. He nuzzled his nose against hers before capturing her lips in a sweet kiss, completely rendering her incapable of any coherent speech. He left her swollen lips to place soft kisses along her jaw, one hand coming up to grasp the back of her neck to encourage her to tilt her head back, granting him full access to her neck. He placed a heated kiss on the juncture of her jaw and neck underneath her ear before he breathed in her scent. He groaned, the warm spice of cinnamon and sweetness of jasmine and vanilla flooding his senses. “Mahal, you smell divine.”

She found herself panting, overly eager to enjoy all that his body had to offer her as she began to melt under his touch. That eagerness made her heat flush from her cheeks all the way down to her sex, and that forgotten confession came roaring back with a cognizance of its own. An overwhelming nervousness sparked under her skin, seizing all other emotions in a vice like grip.
She planted her hands against his shoulders and pushed him back, as her apprehension demanded a desperate reprieve from his lips. “The noises! What about the noises?” Mistlynn almost shouted, her chest heaving.

Thorin blinked as he forced himself to push away the lust that had fogged his mind. “The noises?” he repeated breathlessly, confusion written all over his face as he leaned back from her and sat down on the bed beside her.

“Yes! the noises!” she emphasized with a jerky nod of her head. As if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Her eyes had widened as she looked away from him in what seemed to be embarrassment. Her hands were twisting in her lap as she tried to expel the nervous energy that was crackling through her with a sudden force that took her off guard.

“Mist, you’re going to have to be more specific. What noises?” Thorin raised a brow at her, perplexed as to why they were talking about ‘noises’ and not kissing like they had been. He was taken aback by this abrupt change in her, he had never seen this kind of nervousness come from her. He hoped that he hadn’t pushed her too far, too soon.

“Back home I always heard the noises that were made while the adults were doing the marital …act. They never sounded pleasant and th…that … worries me.” Mistlynn licked her lips nervously, drawing away from him and that moment into her own insecurities again.

“M’eudail.” Thorin said brushing some wild curls away from her face. “We live in a mountain, there are no noises to be heard coming from anyone else’s quarters. I cannot speak for every couple, but I can assure you the result of our joining will be nothing but unbelievably enjoyable.” He paused, observing the nervous glint in her eyes. “Did anyone ever talk to you about what is actually to happen between us?”

“Besides hearing a lot of innuendos and personal tales with no real explanation, no. Dis tried, but it was so embarrassing. She is your sister! We couldn’t look each other in the eye for an entire afternoon! I hoped it would all come naturally, and I felt like it was but now I can’t stop thinking about those…noises.”

Thorin breathed in deeply, trying to reign in some semblance of control as his very blood was set ablaze with desire for her. He chuckled, the corners of his mouth teasing up into a teasing smirk. “Well, I do not know the exact nature of these noises you heard, but I can say without a doubt we will find our way. The love and desire I feel for you right now overwhelms any fears I have.”

“You do have fears?” she asked quietly, her gaze assessing as her hands stilled in her lap.

His smirk became a bashful smile as he glanced down at the mattress, tilting his head as he rubbed the back of his neck. A nervous trait of his. “I … I want to please you M’eudail. I want you to feel nothing but pleasure and that’s a little daunting of a task when you are my first. I don’t want you be disappointed or regret this moment.”

For a moment, she was at a loss for words. She swallowed thickly as her body came back to life, demanding this overwhelming thirst of sorts to be quenched. The desire had been pooling deep between her legs; molten and heavy, and no longer possible to ignore despite any lingering trepidation.

Just knowing he was as nervous as she was … she took a deep, steadying breath through her nose before she pushed herself forward onto Thorin’s lap, this time landing right where she planned with an enthusiastic grace. Her hands clasped behind his neck, sinking her fingers into his raven black hair as her lips crashed upon his.

Mistlynn let out another moan into Thorin’s mouth as he grabbed her rounded hips firmly in his hands, pressing her back into the plush mattress with his weight, allowing their lower bodies to mold together perfectly. He raised his hand to the back of her head to fist her hair in his grasp as he kissed a path down her neck. He found himself starved for the salty sweetness of her skin as he trailed back up to her ear, savoring her moans as he felt her go limp under his worshiping touch.
Her fingers twisted in his hair in response, her body’s movements rubbing against his aching erection. He was completely lost to her, to her body, to her exquisite taste and fiery touch. He had never wanted anyone as desperately as he wanted her now, his mind, body, and soul completely consumed by her.
Primal need began to take control, urging him to grind even harder against her, making them both ache to be closer, skin to skin with no barriers between them. Thorin reached down her body and lifted her silk chemise above her head. He drank in the sight of her naked body that glowed in the faint flickering light from the fireplace, never had he seen anyone so beautiful. “Praise Mahal, you are breathtaking.”

Mistlynn gave him a shy smile as she looked up at him through her lashes, self-consciously wrapping her arms around herself as if to hide herself.
“Do not hide yourself from me M’eudail. Not ever. You are my One and I want nothing more than to make our bodies one.”

Mistlynn sought his lips with hers, their mouths opening to allow their tongues to caress in deep, leisurely strokes. Their kisses grew desperate in rhythm as Thorin ran his hands down her sides while rubbing her soft skin between his fingers, relishing the way her nipples dragged across his chest as their bodies sought whatever sweet friction they could achieve.
Mistlynn let out a gasp of air followed by a torturous moan at the overwhelming stirrings that had her body ablaze like a wildfire. Thorin began to trail kisses down her neck onto her collarbone, making her squirm against him impatiently.
With a breathy chuckle, he then slowly kissed down her chest only stopping when he reached her breast. Looking up at her through hooded eyes, he twirled his tongue around her nipple before softly taking it fully into his hot mouth. Mistlynn sucked in a startled breath at the new sensation as her back arched into him in response, the ache between her legs becoming unbearable as it began to throb demandingly in time with her racing heart.

In a lustful haze, Mistlynn ran her hands down his stomach, reaching under the waistband of his pants, between his legs to wrap her fingers around his hard length. Thorin let out a pained groan as he pulled back to look at her, his eyes shimmering slivers of icy blue highlighting the blown fathomless, black pools of his pupils.

“Did I hurt you?” She gasped nervously as she released his erection from her grasp. He responded with a low rumbling growl before pouncing back on top of her, his grip on her tightening drastically as he bit down on the juncture of her neck and shoulder before soothing it with his tongue.

“I’ll take that as a no then.” she giggled breathlessly at his attack, grasping him once again in her hand before stroking him, slow and firm. She was pleasantly surprised at the feeling of him, heavy and silky hot in her hand. He groaned again, as his eyes fluttered shut at the intoxicating sensation. “M’eudail, I want to take his slow and make our first time last but with you doing that I don’t know how long I will be able to hold back.”

She released him, before running her fingernails back up his torso, thoroughly enjoying the shudder she felt wrack his body at the sensation. “Don’t hold back. Show me.” She breathed between pants as she clung to him.
Thorin buried his hands into her hair as he began to kiss down her body with a renewed vigor. Mistlynn matched his lust and desire, as she clung to his dampening shoulders. His mouth trapped hers again as one of his hands continued to tangle into her hair, while the other slowly journeyed down her stomach until he clasped her sex in his hand. She arched against him as a desperate moan ripped from her throat, his own groans combining with hers as he felt her dripping wet center hot against his palm. He didn’t question his instinct as he moved through her folds, slipping a finger inside her slick core, causing Mistlynn to cry out at the sudden intrusion.
He looked down at her face, watching as lust and awe filled her eyes at the feeling of his fingers inside her. He stroked her, coercing a stuttering gasp from her as she gripped onto his shoulders tighter as if desperate to keep herself grounded to him.

“God’s you’re so tight, so perfect.” He growled. Her eyes fluttered shut at his words that made her burn even hotter. “No! Look at me, don’t close your eyes.”
She groaned at his command and opened her eyes, staring into his burning gaze. “I want to watch you come undone under my fingers.” Her eyes widened at his sultry rumble, her grip tightened, breaking his skin under her nails as he slowly slid another finger into her core, stretching her further.

“Ooohhh.” She sobbed, the burning need churning within her intensifying. “P-please Thorin. S-so good.” She rasped, her hips lifting in desperation as if to push him inside her further.

He growled as he began to pump his fingers slowly, the feeling of them stroking her, intensifying the throbbing of her sex to a point that Mistlynn wasn’t sure she could handle anymore. The state of utter euphoria that passed over her body surprised her with its sudden onslaught. She had never experienced such pleasure, let alone knew it existed. She had no idea what such ecstasy was called, but she knew she was now addicted to a lifetime of craving it. No wonder her friends had giggled and sighed over the memories of it.

He began to slowly tease her with light brushes of his thumb over her bundle of nerves as his fingers pumped in and out of her before curling as if summoning her soul to come undone. His skillful fingers ignited spurts of pleasure to wrack through her body. “Oh…My...” Mistlynn hiccupped as another burst of euphoria passed through her body, erupting brilliant white stars twinkling behind her eyelids as she surrendered fully in his arms.

Her nails dug deeper into his skin. Thorin relished the feeling of her nails in his skin, as he felt her channel clench tight and hot around his fingers. “So beautiful.” He praised as he gazed upon her, proud to be the one who caused the pleasure that now captured her face. He gently removed his fingers from within her and she groaned at the loss of him.
In one swift move, he removed his pants and tossed them across the room, allowing Mistlynn to finally see all of him. Her breathing hitched in anticipation as her eyes sparked with desire and lust. He was bigger than she had expected, his member fully erect and hard against his stomach. She clenched her thighs together in nervous anticipation as she brought her gaze back up to his.

“Is it alright for me to take you now M’eudail? I will stop, if at any time you need me to. Just tell me, ok?” His deep voice was strained, wanting to make sure she felt comfortable and safe with him despite the desire that roared through his veins.

“Yes.” Is all Mistlynn could manage to moan breathlessly as she lay underneath him, entirely at his mercy. He placed a knee between her legs, encouraging her to accommodate his body between her thighs.
He lowered himself down on top of her, his gaze predatory as he looked between her legs in anticipation. They were skin to skin, just inches separating his hard erection from her wet, pink glistening sex.
It was with one slow, glorious move he pushed his hard length inside her, stretching her to accommodate his generous girth.
Mistlynn hissed out a breath at the burn as he pushed into her, her nails once again digging into his skin as she clung to him. “Are you alright?” He gasped as he braced himself above her, his forehead resting against hers.

“Yes.” She moaned as the burn spread and settled, morphing into a feeling of complete fullness and tingling bliss. Thorin let out a feral growl as he pulled himself from her silky hotness before gliding back in with a fluid thrust of his hips. Her back arched off the bed as he pushed past the last barrier of resistance and became fully sheathed inside her. With a trembling breath she sought his hand and linked her fingers with his as her body molded around him. He took her hand and placed it above her head, gripping hers and grounding her as he kept a steady pace, back and forth inside of her.

“Yes…Thorin…please.” Her gasping moan begging as she felt the waves of that breath stealing euphoria building up from deep inside her as the burn faded, as if he was stroking the embers of her raging fire. He growled as he increased his pace, rutting into her harder at her frantic plea. As her storm of pleasure built, she wondered if one could die from such pleasure, surely her heart was about to explode from her chest before she burst into flame from the inside out.

“I have ached for you for so long M’eudail, but this is something I never could have even imagined.” His honeyed confession, whispered breathlessly into her ear made her shudder.
Mistlynn responded by gripping his flexed buttocks with her free hand, slowly rocking him deeper into her as she lifted her hips in a desperate attempt to feel and pull him even deeper inside her.

“I love you Thorin, a lifetime with you will never be enough.” With those words from her he crashed his lips upon hers in a glorious desperate kiss with a strong, steady tongue. That was all Thorin needed to hear to break his self-control. His movements became hastened, his thrusts made her eyes roll into the back of her head as her back arched, threatening to snap with pure pleasure and ecstasy.

Her euphoria was all-consuming as it built higher and higher with each powerful rock of his hips. Then suddenly, with one last thrust, she shattered around him, pure white heat exploding down his shaft, consuming her like a raging torrent. Her soul shattering spasms triggered his as he continued to rock inside her, as she clenched around his hard length. She felt him grow rock hard as he lowered his head to her neck groaning out his release into her ear, his moans of her name sending tremors through his chest as his hot seed spilled inside of her.

Time seemed to slow as they came down from their mutual highs. He nuzzled her along her jaw before placing a soft kiss on her lips. “Are you okay?” he whispered gently against her lips.

She sighed contentedly, smiling against his lips at his concern for her well-being. “I am incandescently happy.” She punctuated each word with a heated kiss, attempting to ease the worry from his brow.

Thorin let out a ragged breath as he allowed himself to relax fully under her caresses. “Mistlynn, my Mistlynn, my One…before tonight your body had haunted me. I had never wanted anyone as much as I wanted you and now that I have had you, I don’t think I will ever have my fill.” He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck and breathed her in deeply.

He gently pulled out of her, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her to him so that her back was flush against his chest. She sighed contentedly as she took in his warmth and the heady scent of his skin. Finding his hand, she laced her fingers through his, bringing their joined hands to rest on her chest just over her beating heart. Her last thoughts before being lulled to sleep by Thorin’s steady breathing were that of never having felt so safe or so loved as she did in that very moment.

Chapter Text

Thorin woke only when the rays of the late morning sun caressed his face. He breathed in deeply, and a glorious scent hit his nose as something tickled his face. The fog of heavy sleep fled as he realized it was Mistlynn’s warm scent of cinnamon laced with vanilla. He grinned sleepily as the previous night flashed through his mind.
She was tucked up tight against him, her head resting on his chest with her legs tangled in his. His arm was wrapped around her, his other hand splayed out on the soft skin of her bared hip. He leaned his face down, burying himself into her wild curls, savoring her scent and closeness as his arm tightened around her while pulling her closer to him.
Mistlynn let out a dreamy sigh, raising her knee so that she grazed his morning erection. He could not help but groan lowly at her from the contact, prompting a sleepy giggle to bubble from her lips.

“Mmhhhmm good morning, Yasun.” She purred into his chest as her fingers traced a trail from his abs, past his chest and up his neck.

“Minx.” He growled playfully into her ear before nipping her earlobe, prompting a squeal from her much to his delight. He skillfully pinned her beneath him as she giggled and tried to squirm out from underneath him. “And where do you think you’re going.” He breathed huskily into her neck as he started to tease her neck with his mouth.
Her eyes nearly fluttered shut at the intoxicating feeling of him lavishing her with his lips and tongue, but the moment was soon lost when his hand brushed down to the side of her ribcage and he started to tickle her. She gasped and squealed as she fought against him. She wrapped her legs around his middle and quickly flipped him on to his back, leaving her to straddle him victoriously.

He was laughing with a carefree smile on his face as he looked up at her through hooded eyes. The sight of her straddling him, her gloriously naked female form highlighted beautifully in the late morning light.

“Do you yield, My King?” She tightened the grip of her thighs against his midriff, arching her back teasingly so that the firm muscles of her ass rubbed his length.

He couldn’t help the groan that fell from his lips at her movement, his hands gripping her muscular thighs tightly cradling him in response. “Mahal, you play dirty M’eudail.” He panted, unable to take his eyes off her.

“What are you going to do about it?” She ran her nails up his body, making his breath hitch as she leaned over him, her ravished curls falling over shoulders and curtaining their faces. The warm sunlight made her curls glow like sun-bleached gold, enticing him to reach up and pull one gently before tangling his thick fingers into the glowing tresses.
He grasped the base of her neck right before he let out a deep growl, wrapping his other hand around her waist and flipping her over onto her back. “I am going to ravish my wife for being such a teasing minx.” he said with a coy smile and a wink before molding his lips to hers. Mistlynn eagerly returned his kiss with an urgent hunger that had nothing to do with food.

A significant amount of time later….

Boneless, was the only word that could come to his mind as he lay there sweaty and breathless. The sex was mind-blowing, each time better than the last. She was an insatiable goddess that wrecked him each time she pushed him over the edge. It was apparent that she was going to challenge him in the bedroom just as much as she did in every other aspect of their life together. He loved her fire and drive. He always knew he wouldn’t want a wife who was soft spoken and submissive. Amid their passion, she made him feel like he was invincible. The ghosts of his past were cast out into the far reaches of his mind by her light. For the first time in his life, his insecurities were silent. With her by his side, he could do anything.

“What is going through your head Kurdun? I can just see the wheels spinning.”

He looked over at her with a disarming smile on his lips. She was laying on her side, propped up on her elbow as she looked down at him curiously.
“A great many things.” He drawled, his voice sultry. He folded his arms behind his head and reclined back, perfectly relaxed against their pillows.

“Oh, is that so? Don’t keep me in suspense.” Intrigued, she looked at him expectantly.

He chuckled, obviously pleased with his current mindset. “I was thinking about the noises.” He flashed his best troublemaker grin as he looked at her, his eyes bright with mischief.

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Noises?” she muttered, before her eyes widened as she recalled the prior night and her nervous rant. She blushed as embarrassment flooded her face.

“Yes, noises. I believe you had some concerns about unpleasant noises during certain activities.”

She grabbed the pillow that was underneath her and threw it at him, his laugh filling his belly from her reaction. She began throwing them repeatedly, only making him laugh harder as he grabbed the pillow to stop her assault. “You are such a brute.” She growled, as she fought against his grip.

His laughter made it hard for her to remain embarrassed as he wrestled her back onto the bed, straddling on top of her, caging her hands above her head as he ripped the pillow from her grasp.
A loud tearing sound interrupted their tug of war as the pillow ripped and a cloud of white feathers burst into the air around them.
She gasped in surprise as she was momentarily blinded by feathers, allowing him the chance to take his free hand undoing the front of her shift to release her breasts, leaning down pulling and sucking on them with his mouth, making her shudder under his touch.

“I am particularly fond of the noises you make when I’m moving deep inside you, claiming your body over and over again.” He chuckled darkly, his lips caressing against her sensitive skin. Mistlynn gasped, the feathers falling silently around them forgotten immediately as he moved his head slowly kissing down her body “Mine.” He growled as he sank down to her increasingly wet folds.

She moaned breathlessly at the sensation of his beard scratching and tickling in between the soft skin of her thighs.
She let out a cry as he ran his tongue up the lips of her slit before he began sucking on her bundle of nerves, stroking that sensitive tender spot repeatedly.
She squirmed and bucked her hips, the pleasure overwhelming her senses. “Thorin it’s too much. I can’t take it.”

“You can M’eudail…I promise.” Is all he said before diving back into her, sucking harder and stroking her faster with his tongue, devouring her as he pushed her pleasure higher and higher. Her climax shattered without warning; a sharp overwhelming release quaked through her body as her pleasure gushed out of her. Mistlynn panted breathlessly as her orgasm washed over her, leaving Thorin looking up at her from between her legs with a sexy, crooked smile as he coaxed her through her orgasm.

He took his sweet time as he kissed back up her stomach with lustful purpose. He was stopped in his tracks by her stomach gurgling loudly, rumbling under his lips. He chuckled at her groan as she squirmed underneath him. He looked up at her, amused. “Hungry, My Queen?”

“No, no. I’m fine.” She groaned in frustration. It was a blatant lie, she was starving. But food wasn’t a priority of hers at that moment. Her stomach rumbled again in contradiction.

“I should probably feed you first before I continue to ravish you.” He teased, as he released her hands and pushed himself up and scooted to the edge of the bed. “We can’t have you starving now, can we? I need you properly fed, and energy replenished for all that I plan to do to you.”

With a cocky wink he was up. “I’ll be right back.” He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on her pursed lips.

She pouted dramatically as she watched him put on his robe, still laying on her back on the bed surrounded by feathers.

They ate their meal together, joking about how their bed appeared to be the location of a great battle where many a valiant duck lost their down. It was utterly ridiculous, the story they weaved together as they collected the feathers and stuffed them back in the ruined pillowcase, only to dissolve into peals of soundless laughter when he reached into her tussled hair and pulled out the feathers that had been concealed in her tangled curls.

“They blend in!” he snickered as he started looking closer, only to find more in her wild locks.

“My hair is a disaster; it’s going to take hours to comb through it.’ She winced as her fingers were caught in a large tangle close to her scalp. “You made a right mess of it, you and your grabby hands.” She accused teasingly.

“You should let me braid it, so I have something to hold on to.” He whispered hotly into her shoulder before placing a kiss there. She could feel his lips curl against her skin into that sensual smile she was hopelessly addicted to as she tipped her head back to rest against him.

She hummed as she felt his fingers gently brush through her tresses. “That would be nice actually.” She sighed as she nuzzled his neck directly under his jaw. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before sitting up to get off the bed again.

She watched him walk over to the dresser to gather a comb, hair oil and ties before walking back over to her. He settled behind her and started to gently section her hair. She hummed contentedly as he worked through her curls gently with a practiced ease.
She took this time to study the room around her, taking in all the details that had been hidden in the dark of the previous night. It was larger than she had expected, with large windows looking over the vast valley below them onto Dale and the glittering waters of the lake. A cohesive balance of the dark green and grey marble and a dark wood surrounded her. Floor to ceiling bookshelves were carved into the mountain and filled with old books and various weapons of ancient origin.

The furniture was of the same dark wood, elegantly carved and cushioned with rich oiled leather and metal studs. The only thing she recognized of his was Orcist and Deathless that were hanging in their new spots by an impressive desk by one of the big windows and door that led out to their private balcony. Besides his weapons, nothing of personal touch was evident.

“How long have you been in these rooms?” she asked, surprised that his office had a more personal touch than his own room.

“Since last night.” He chuckled, not pausing in his task of taming her wild locks.

“Are we here just for our honeymoon then?”

“No, these are now our private quarters. I was going to let you pick the finishing touches to our home.”

“Why were you not staying in here before?”

“These were my grandparents’ quarters before Smaug came. When we reclaimed Erebor, I just stayed in my old rooms. Didn’t see the point of moving in here when it was just me.” His fingers were deftly braiding her hair, having removed all the tangles with a quick ease that surprised her.

The idea of them being the first to inhabit these rooms in over a century made a shiver of excitement run down her spine. She was only wearing his dark blue tunic from the night before since he ruined her shift during one of their passionate trysts. “I want to look around. I didn’t realize how big it was last night. My handsome husband kept distracting me.”

Thorin chuckled as he finished her long braid. “Very well. Look around and tell me what you wish to change.”
She ran her hand down her elaborate braid and looked back at him in surprise. “Dis taught me. It’s her favorite braid style.” He wiggled his eyebrows, making her giggle.

“You’re just full of surprises Kurdun.” She kissed him soundly before getting up from the bed and stretching. His tunic hem reached her mid-thigh, allowing him to admire the creamy skin and feminine curve of her legs. One shoulder was exposed as the tunic slouched to one side as she allowed the sleeves to hang long over hands. She swung her arms as she walked around the room leisurely, taking in everything. She stopped at the shelving closest to the fireplace, studying the old weapons placed there. “Where these your grandfathers?” She asked, as she ran a finger along the dwarven sword, tracing the designs etched into the hilt.

“Yes.” Was his simple reply as he sat on the bed, watching her explore. She knew he was admiring the view of her wearing his shirt, and she reveled in the knowledge that he still couldn’t get enough of her.
“What was he like? You’re Grandfather?”

The smile that was playing with her lips slowly disappeared as she turned to look at him over her shoulder and saw the distant and sad expression that flashed across his eyes. A melancholy smile graced his features as he looked down at his hands, fiddling with one of the rings that was on his hand. It was a signet ring, one that he undoubtedly inherited from his grandfather. She immediately regretted asking her question. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried. Forgive me.”

He looked up at her sharply, his sadness vanishing instantly. “There is nothing to forgive M’eudail.” He got up from the bed and walked over to her. “You have every right to ask that question.” He sighed as he stood beside her, looking at the sword before he picked it up, and held it firmly in his grasp. “Dis brought his sword back with her from Ered Luin when she joined us here after the Battle of the Five Armies.”

He twirled it nimbly in his hand, the ancient blade gleaming in the sunlight. “He was a mighty warrior. He taught me everything he knew when it came to fighting. He was an attentive grandfather, telling us stories of his adventures as a young Dwarrow, of all the trouble he and his brothers caused.” His smile was faint, his eyes far away in memory. “He had a booming laugh, and he loved to sing. He loved music and loud parties. He adored my Grandmother, and often sat in the garden with her as she tended to her flowers. There isn’t one happy moment in my childhood that doesn’t have them both in it.”

His expression became pained, prompting her to reach out and grab his free hand as he continued to stare at the blade, lost in painful memory. As her fingers intwined with his, he squeezed her hand, drawing comfort from her touch. “It was gradual at first, just quick little moments where he seemed to forget himself. Before we knew it, he was spending most of his time in the treasury just walking amongst it all in this fever like daze. He became short tempered and selfish. He became suspicious of everyone, even his own kin, of trying to steal from him. By the time Smaug came, he was no longer my Grandfather. He wasn’t even upset that my Grandmother and Mother didn’t make it out of Erebor when it fell, he could only mourn the loss of the Arkenstone.” His jaw clenched at the memory. Snapping out of it he quickly placed the sword back on the shelf, as if it was burning his hand as he held it.

“The Arkenstone?” she repeated, trying to piece what he just told her with the little bit Ori and Balin had told her in their lessons.
“The King’s Jewel.” Thorin growled, as he looked down at their joined hands. It seemed like he wanted to say more, but he swallowed the words thickly as if he couldn’t bring himself to speak them allowed.

“What happened to the Arkenstone?” She breathed, unable to tear her eyes from him. He sighed, running his hand over his face as a familiar mask slipped back in place, the carefree dwarf she had been having the time of her life with vanished behind the stoic façade of the Mountain King.

She stood directly in front of him and grasped his face in her hands. “Kardun, look at me.” She ordered.
“You want me to open to you? You must trust me as well. It is just us here, you don’t need to hide yourself from me.”

He looked deeply into her eyes as he processed her words. After a moment he signed resignedly. “I had Balin lock it away, deep in the vault. It made m …MY Grandfather …sick.”

“Dragon sickness?” She furrowed her eyebrows at his stutter and quick correction.

He nodded sharply. “Yes. It drove him insane, even without it in his possession he could never shake the control it had over him. It led him to believe that reclaiming Moria from the Goblins and Orcs was our people’s salvation. He led our people into a massacre. He was slain by Azog first, then Frerin, Vili, Fundin, so many were killed, and my Adad …” His voice cracked with a long-repressed emotion that was fighting to emerge.

She reached up to grasp the back of his head and pulled him down to her. “Balin told me how you rallied your people, how you faced Azog and showed him you don’t fuck around with the line of Durin.”

Her coarseness made him smile faintly, despite the pain of the past swirling like a storm in his eyes. “Those were Balin’s exact words?”

“I was paraphrasing, but you’re missing my point.” She smiled broadly as she nuzzled his nose with hers before capturing his lips in a soul searing kiss. It wasn’t long before they were battling for dominance, lost in a clash of tongues and teeth as they devoured each other. Her hands were fisted in his tunic as she pulled him towards her as she walked backwards, seeking a flat surface to christen.

She stumbled into the desk by the window, causing her to smile against his mouth and giggle in victory as she jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his hips before burying her hands into his hair. He growled hungrily into her mouth as he placed her upon the surface of the desk, running his hands up her bare thighs and spreading them wider so that he could step in-between them.
He continued to rub his hands on her thighs, slowly pushing the tunic higher and higher until it couldn’t be raised any higher. His hands wrapped around to her ass and pulled her closer to the edge of the desk to have her flush with him.

He began to lavish her exposed shoulder with kisses. “I must say, I am partial to you wearing nothing but my shirt.”

She giggled, running her leg up the back of his before wrapping it around his waist. “Really? That’s funny because I prefer you shirtless.” She grasped the opening of his shirt and ripped it forcefully down the middle.

He raised his eyebrows at she pushed the ruined shirt off his shoulders, a cat like grin on her face. “Actually, my first request as your wife and Queen, is that you are to never wear a shirt in this room. The moment the door is closed, shirt off immediately.”

His mischievous smirk made her core clench. He placed his palms down on the desk and leaned forward, flexing his shoulders tauntingly. He noticed her eyes darken as she watched his muscular shoulders and arms flex and ripple under his tattooed skin. She bit her bottom lip, and he felt his cock grow hard. “Are you ogling me M’eudail?”

She ran her fingers down his chest, enjoying the feeling of his ab muscles clench under her exploration until she reached her goal, and unlaced his trousers before gripping his length. “So what if I am? What are you going to do about it?”

A snarl ripped out of his throat as he picked her up and laid her on her back before him. Her chest was heaving in excitement as she looked up at him through hooded eyes. He let his pants fall to the floor, releasing his straining length to bob against his stomach. She licked her lips in anticipation as he grabbed her from behind her knees and pulled her closer to him. He guided her legs up into the air and placed her ankles on his shoulders. “I’m going to fuck you until you are screaming my name.” he growled between kisses he planted heatedly down her leg.
She moaned loudly as she felt him heavy against her throbbing entrance. He pushed himself through her slick folds, making her pant with need. “For the love of Mahal, stop teasing me.” She hissed as her fingers clenched tightly around his forearms.

“As you wish.” He purred before he sunk his length into her hot depths. Mistlynn gasped at the sudden fullness, her back bowing off the table at the intensity of him filling her completely in this new position.

“Gods, you feel so good, so hot, so tight.” He gritted out as he picked up a thorough pace that stretched her completely, reaching deeper inside her than they both thought possible.

Her breathy moans soon became desperate mewls of rapture, fueling him to snap his hips into her at a faster pace. It wasn’t long until he felt her fluttering around him. “T-Thorin! Oh, Thorin, don’t stop!”

“I can feel you M’eudail. Are you going to cum for me?” his deep voice was raspy, prickling along her skin and adding to her ecstasy.

“Y-yes! Gods, Thorin Yes!” her cries grew louder with each thrust of his hips.

‘Louder! Scream my name!” he commanded as he watched her squirm on the quaking desk in desperation.

“T-Thorin!” a shuddering scream escaped her trembling lips as her orgasm seized her, fiery waves of her pleasure rolling through her body.

Thorin’s orgasm surprised him as her body seized tightly around him, milking him fully with each shockwave of pleasure that radiated from deep within her. He leaned over her, sweaty and panting as she collapsed in a trembling heap on the desk. His head rested on her heaving stomach, allowing them both to collect themselves as they came down from their high.

“I thought we were going to break the desk.” She gasped, as she ran her hand absentmindedly through his thick black hair.

“I’m surprised we didn’t.” He huffed with a chuckle before placing a loving kiss on her trembling stomach before pushing himself up, making the desk creak loudly with the sudden shift of additional weight. A loud thud from underneath the desk made them look at each other in surprise before they started laughing.

“We did break it!” Mistlynn giggled as she watched him step back so that he could crouch down to see where the sound came from.

“There is a hidden compartment that just dropped open!” she heard him exclaim in surprise, prompting her to sit up and slide off the desk onto shaky legs.
He crawled back out from underneath the desk, with an old leather book clasped in his hand. “How odd.” He murmured as he studied it in his hands.

“Why would someone hide a book in a secret compartment?” Mistlynn was standing alongside him, looking around his arm down at the book.

He gently opened it, allowing the stiff yellowed pages to flutter open on a random page. His eyes grew wide as he recognized the handwriting on the page.

“What? What is it?” She placed her hand on his shoulder, concern lacing her tone as she watched surprise then that deep sadness return to his gaze as he began to flip through the pages.

“This is my grandfather’s handwriting. It’s his journal.” Came his hushed reply, as if speaking louder would summon the past to join them in the room. “I didn’t know he kept a journal.” He spoke more to himself as he briefly scanned the pages. He blanched after a moment of skimming through the account before suddenly slamming it shut. He stared at the leather-bound volume as if it had personally offended him before he tossed it back onto the desk.

“Kardun?” she asked gently, rubbing her hand comfortingly along his shoulder blade.

He blinked rapidly before tearing his gaze away from the journal back towards her and into the present moment. She took note of the forced smile that curved his lips yet did not reach his eyes. “Its nothing. Just a surprise. I didn’t realize he took the time to write.”

She cocked her head slightly to the side, studying him before she kissed his shoulder, tracing the tattoo he had depicting the Crown of Durin softly with her finger. “I feel like a warm bath.” She started to walk backwards slowly, her hand tracing down from his shoulder along his arm before intertwining her fingers with his. “Join me.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 19

Several weeks later…

Mistlynn was snuggled further into her soft pillows as she felt the suns warm rays fall upon her face. She stretched leisurely, before turning around to feel towards Thorin’s side. The sheets were cold, only a faint lingering of his smokey scent still present on his pillow. Her brow furrowed as she slowly opened her eyes. Although their honeymoon was over, he had never woken up and left without giving her a kiss goodbye.

Mistlynn pushed herself up on her elbows, confused. She squinted as she peered out into the bright morning light. She could see the ravens flying back and forth in front of the window, as they prepared for their day.
She couldn’t remember if Thorin had anything of importance scheduled for that day, especially since it was a Sunday. She pushed the heavy blankets back and placed her feet onto the cold stone floor, causing her to shiver as her body protested the adjustment. Autumn was upon them.

Mistlynn reached for her heavy robe and threw it on quickly. As she began to unravel her hair from its braid, the sound of soft music echoed into the room. She paused her movement as the music flowed in. She had never heard such music before, and it seemed to be coming from the living quarters of their suite.

She silently made her way towards the door. The melody was eerily familiar, like a distant dream it awakened within her the voice she had been forced to keep hidden within her. It was a lullaby her mother used to sing them she realized, and a sudden rush of bittersweet emotion flooded her.
She peered around the doorway and saw Thorin seated in one of their plush chairs, with a golden instrument placed between his knees and tilted up against his shoulder. His fingers danced across the strings, the source of the beautiful music. It was unlike any instrument she had ever seen.
She noticed he was also lost within the music he was creating, and the long-forgotten need to sing fluttered in her stomach. She found herself closing her eyes as her body began to sway in time with the melody. Faint, distorted memories surged up unbidden of her mother's face and hauntingly beautiful voice. She hadn’t been able to conjure a memory of her mother for many years. And for the first time, since she was a young child, she lost herself to the music.

**
Thorin

He had awoken early with a start, his heart pounding in his chest as a slight sweat made the sheets of the bed cling to his chest. He grimaced as he ran a hand over his face. He looked over at Mistlynn who was still sleeping peacefully and sighed in relief. His nightmare had been disturbing, and he was not ready to share that part of his past yet. He had felt Mistlynn stir next to him as he fought to control the shaking of his body as adrenaline coursed through his veins.

He couldn’t allow her to see him like that. He was still reeling from the discovery of his grandfather’s journal and of the disturbed ramblings. He leaned up against the headboard, breathing heavily as he ran a shaking hand through his sweat dampened hair. First the journal, now these confusing night terrors. He had to speak to Balin about this. But he couldn’t bring himself to. Not yet. Just a few more days of peace.

He looked over at his sleeping wife, and he felt his anxiety loosen its grip on him. His gaze caressed her silhouette, her pale skin flawless and barely wrapped in the white silken sheet. He leaned down, allowing himself to nuzzle her neck before placing a loving kiss to her bare shoulder. She stirred slightly, his name escaping her lips as a contented sigh. He breathed her in, her scent and warmth soothing him. He smiled against her soft skin as he felt her surrender to sleep fully once again before he pulled himself away to slip out of bed without disturbing her.

He didn’t dream of Frerin and Vili often, but when he did it was heart wrenching, no matter the many decades that had passed since they last walked among the living.

They had been there, during the time he would rather forget. But it was too soon, and the guilt was too fresh, especially since Bilbo was still visiting. He was happy that their friend had agreed to stay for the winter and travel home in the spring, but with every interaction, every meal and conversation the ice-cold voice of doubt and guilt whispered to him how close he had been to killing his friend over that accursed stone that was now locked away in the deepest crevices of the treasury vaults.

Instead of Dwalin and Bilbo, it had been Frerin and Vili standing before him in the newly reclaimed throne room, as he sat adorned in his deceased grandfather’s godly royal robes. He could feel the cold, heavy pressure of the Raven crown sitting on his head. They had glared at him accusingly. The dragon sickness had vanished, its suffocating presence and serpent like hiss no longer had its deadly coils wrapped around his consciousness. He had begged and pleaded for forgiveness before their unforgiving gaze as they continued to stare down at him as he collapsed onto his knees.

“Please, I beg you. Forgive me.” He rasped as he fought back the tears he felt burning behind his eyes. “I brought them home. We are home now.”

“You are just like him.” Frerin’s pale lips moved, the hardness of his voice cutting Thorin to the very core of his being.

He shook his head desperately. “No Frer, No I am not him. I am nothing like him.”

“You are a slave to that stone, just like our grandfathers were. There is no hiding from it, it is in your blood.” Frerin pointed at him reproachfully. “It is not ours to keep, yet you hold on to it still. Do you think locking it away truly vindicates the bloodstains on our family name?”

“Tell me what I need to do?” He begged. “Tell me what I need to do, and I shall do it.”

“Give it to the one who is meant to wield it.” Vili’s voice echoed in the massive cavern. “Or it will destroy you all.”

Thorin was breathing heavily as an unsettling cold began to seep into him. “What … what do you mean wield it. It is a stone. A gem. Not a weapon.”

Frerin and Vili both seemed to waiver, as if they were mirages in his fevered mind. Both images of his brothers flickered, distorting as his ears began to ring, “She is the heart, Thorin. Do not lose her. Only she can bring about the balance that was lost to our people.”

Thorin sat back on his heels, staring in confusion as he watched them disappear, slowly disintegrating into glowing flakes of ash and smoke. “No.” he breathed as he stumbled back to his feet, pulling Orcist from its sheath as the ash flurried and grew into a familiar shape. Serpent like eyes stared down at him menacingly as a blood curdling voice surrounded him.
“You cannot escape destiny, Thorin Oakenshield.” Smaug hissed as smoldering ash became fiery red embers as a likeness of the fire drake manifested before his eyes. “You were never supposed to awaken from the sickness. You were supposed to be his to control.”

Thorin bared his teeth in rage as his grip tightened on the hilt of Orcist. “I belong to no one!”

The image of Smaug cackled. “You cannot stop what is coming! You and all of your kin will perish. He will claim what is rightfully his!”

He felt his body shake with a thunderous fury. “I’ll stand in your way. As I always have.” His eyes glowed, like the deep waters of the sea ablaze with the orange fire of the setting sun. Black whisps of smoke and ash whipped around the flame body of Smaug.

“You will fall, in eternal shame, as your father and grandfather before you.” The fire drake reared up, his black wings of smoke flaring out before lunging towards the enraged Dwarf King.

Thorin launched himself toward his reincarnated foe, Orcist held aloft and aimed toward the blackened heart of the beast. He could feel the heat of the raging fire drake as he sprinted towards him, prickling his skin as he drew closer with each passing second. Just as he was about to clash, to sink his sword into the drakes body, he felt as if he was dragged from his dream with a vice like grip. It was then that he had reeled awake, sweat beaded along his skin as his heart raced.

He had washed himself quickly, eager to chase away the evidence of his nightmare from his skin. He dressed quietly before slipping out of the bedroom and into the main living area. It wasn’t long before he had a fire blazing in the fireplace. He made several attempts to read through waiting correspondence before he gave that up. His mind was still in shambles from his nightmare, its hidden meaning lost to him. He sighed as he leaned back into his chair, rubbing his face wearily as he tried to quiet his mind.

He stared into the fire for a few moments before his gaze wandered over to his old harp, sitting in the corner of the room. The desire to play welled up inside him. He couldn’t remember when he had last played. He found himself sitting back down in front of the fire with the instrument leaning against him. He let his fingers drift over the strings, softly strumming the cords before he lost himself in the music.
He was brought back to the present when he heard an angelic voice join in with one of his Amad’s favorite lullabies she used to sing to him and his siblings. He looked up, his fingers faltering slightly in shock as he watched Mistlynn sway in time with the melody he was playing. Her eyes were closed, her arms wrapped around herself as she sang along, her voice carrying with a soul searing power that reverberated in the room around them.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her as the words fell from her lips flawlessly, the pure beauty of her voice hypnotizing him as he watched a whole new side of her unravel and bloom right before his very eyes. He felt his skin prickle as goosebumps erupted along his arms clear up to the nape of his neck as her voice carried the last notes in perfect harmony as their music faded, sinking into the walls of the mountain that surrounded them.

His mouth agape, he placed his harp upright as he slowly stood from his seat. She opened her eyes, blinking as if awakening from a trance. “I didn’t know you could play such music. What kind of instrument is that? It is so beautiful.” She smiled softly as she watched him approach her.

Thorin couldn’t help but chuckle. “That was a harp. And I am very out of practice, you, on the other hand…” he trailed off as he linked his hands with hers. “Mistlynn…your voice…I had no idea you could sing like that.”

Her smile grew bashful as she shrugged. “Oh, I haven’t sung since I was a young child. Since before my mother died.” Her smile faded slightly as her eyes became shadowed with a deep sadness. “My father didn’t like me singing. He forbade me to do so after she passed on. She was teaching me. That lullaby was one of the last songs she taught me.”

“Your father forbade you from singing?” Thorin couldn’t believe what she was telling him. He fought to conceal the anger that began to well up inside of him. The idea of her father subduing her gifts from the Valar incensed him. He was determined to help her out of this protective shell she had erected around herself,

She shrugged again, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the topic. “I think it reminded him too much of my mother.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, brushing her nose against his. “I would sing when I was alone of course, but as I got older, I just got too busy. Hearing you play that lullaby made me want to sing for the first time in decades. You play beautifully.”

Thorin chuckled as he pulled her closer, his hands resting possessively on her waist. “Your performance was much more impressive M’eudail. But thank you.” He nuzzled his nose with hers teasingly before capturing her smiling lips in an alluring kiss. Her giggle quickly became a muffled squeal as he pulled her back towards the chair he had been sitting on and directly into his lap. “Any other hidden talents you are keeping from me Kurdunuh?” He growled playfully into her neck as his hands wandered over the silk nightdress that hugged her body.

“You are one to talk, your royal stubbornness.” She gasped in mock offense as she pressed her hands into his shoulders, forcing him to sit back so that she could see the teasing smirk on his face.
His hands fell to rest on the top of her bare thighs, allowing him to trace invisible patterns with his fingertips. He relished the delicious flush of pink that dusted her chest and the apples of her cheeks as she tried to squirm against his ministrations.

“I am not the one hiding a voice that could bring Mahal himself to his knees.”

“I wasn’t hiding it. The opportunity to share never presented itself.” She shrugged. “Now, should we head down to breakfast?”
Her stomach fluttered in eager anticipation as she watched his smirk transform into a lecherous grin. “It is terrible form to skip right to second breakfast.”
Her head tilted slightly to the side as she looked at him in confusion. “We haven’t had breakfast yet?” She couldn’t help the squeak that escaped her lips as he jumped up from the chair, trapped in his arms before pinning her down on the couch, trapping her body under his.

“We have yet to indulge in our first breakfast.” His lustful growl made her gasp as she felt his hands slip under her nightgown and travel up slowly, teasing her skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I am ravenous for you above all else.” He breathed hotly into her ear before teasing her earlobe with his teeth.

It wasn’t surprising to anyone when breakfast was missed by the newlyweds.

********************

“So, how is married life treating you?” Bilbo smiled knowingly as he walked with Thorin along the carved path of the garden.
He had never seen Thorin so relaxed, a heart lifting exuberance radiated from the Dwarf King. He watched his friend smile with an ease he had only ever seen on Fili before a bashful huff of a laugh escaped him. “It is … very good.” He looked down at the hobbit, who was chucking while he puffed on his pipe.

A couple, skillfully smoke circles floated ahead of them. “Good indeed.” Bilbo chuckled. “If I didn’t know better, I would be greatly disturbed by the constant smile on your face.”

“I do not walk around with a smile on my face.” Thorin groused as he forced a grumpy scowl on his face. He succeeded to hold the scowl for only a few moments before he had to press his lips together to stop the smile threatening to take over his face once again. Bilbo laughed heartedly as he watched the Dwarf King’s trademark scowl give away into a rueful grin.

“You have it bad my friend.” Bilbo chortled as he shook his head. “Not that it’s a bad thing. It is very good indeed. You and your people deserve this, Thorin.”

Thorin looked down at his feet as he stopped walking, his smile fading slightly as he turned to face Bilbo.
“I fear it is the calm before the storm Bilbo. My people are still scattered throughout all Arda, and the alliance between the seven dwarven kingdoms is still in shambles. Some of the dwarven lords are not happy with my marriage to Mistlynn, two of which have refused to answer any correspondence since we retook Erebor, and I claimed the throne.”

Bilbo cocked his head to the side as he studied Thorin, his mouth playing with his pipe. “They came when you called that meeting before the Quest?”

Thorin nodded. “They were not thrilled then, and it’s obvious they still very much opposed to my claim.”

“Are they not supposed to swear their allegiance to you? Being the descendant of Durin the Deathless?”

Thorin shrugged, his good-natured smile now completely gone. “That was the way of it, with my forefathers and theirs. My Irak’adad’s infliction with the Arkenstone put a strain on many of our alliances. It fostered feelings of resentment amongst our people, and that only grew after the slaughter of our armies in the Battle of Azanulbizar. We are no longer a united people. And my One being of an unknown clan with a mixed heritage didn’t help inspire much confidence in my ability to lead.”

Bilbo frowned. “Didn’t inspire confidence? What! You reclaimed Erebor! You fought against Smaug, defeated Azog and his army, you reestablished your alliances with Mirkwood and Dale …” He shook his head in irritation. “You were strong enough to fight against the influence of the Arkenstone.”

Thorin shook his head. “It still affected me Bilbo and I have made many mistakes.” He sighed heavily. “I don’t allow myself to enter the treasury, I have the Arkenstone locked away deep in the mountain vaults. That is not a secret. No matter what I do, my Irak’adad’s indiscretions keep making a reappearance.” The admittance was bitter on his tongue, making him grimace. “During our honeymoon, I found one of my Irak’adad’s journals.” He began, his voice deep and heavy with some unspoken burden. He turned towards one of the benches that was placed alongside the garden walkway. He sat down and placed his elbows on his knees.

Bilbo cocked an eyebrow as he took a deep pull from his pipe. He sat down next to Thorin and let more smoke rings escape his mouth. He looked at Thorin’s defeated pose before he nudged him with his shoulder and held out his pipe in offering. Thorin raised his head from his hands and looked at the pipe. A ghost of a smile appeared on his face, much to Bilbo’s relief. Thorin took a deep inhale from the pipe, held it deep in his chest, then let it out. He felt the tension leave him, as if escaping on the faint autumn breeze along with the exhaled smoke.

“Have you told Balin about it?” Bilbo asked, his tone neutral.

Thorin sighed again as he handed Bilbo back his pipe. “No. I’ve told no one.”

Bilbo nodded thoughtfully. “It was that bad huh?”

Thorin shook his head again. “The beginning was perfectly fine, but then the dragon sickness started to take hold, And his paranoia took on a whole new life.” Thorin swallowed thickly. “It was really hard to read.”

Bilbo was quiet, as he watched Thorin sit up straighter in his seat as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. “A lot of it didn’t make sense. Towards the end of the journal, from what I could tell, he got a letter delivered by some sort of bird he had never seen before. It was from a Dwarf King in the North, demanding the return of the Iklal Kurdu or he would march on Erebor and take it by force. That it was his kin’s right to wield it. The timeline of the entry explains a lot of things… according to the date of the entry it was right before Thranduil came to collect his wife’s necklace. And my Irak’adad denied his claim. He also became suspicious of the other Dwarf Lords; our alliances became strained after that as well. My Adad and I never could figure out what caused it. Now I know”

“Did this Dwarf King give his name?”

“Varric. He didn’t give a name of his kingdom. But if he threatened war… he had some military backing.”

Bilbo nodded, his mind churning with all this new information. “What is the Iklal Kurdu?”

Thorin shook his head again. “It means ‘Cold Heart’ in our tongue.” He rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“It must be terribly important if one King threatens another over it.” Bilbo mused. “Do you have any idea what it could be?”

“I don’t. It has to be a weapon of some kind. My family weapons have all been smithed by our own hands, we have nothing that has an unknown origin, especially in the time of my grandfather. Any weapon not made by dwarf hands was forbidden.”

“That is a strange name for a weapon.” Bilbo tapped his pipe against his chin thoughtfully. Thorin snorted in amusement.

“My thought exactly. Not a typical name for a weapon used in battle. I’ve had Ori go over records of our weapons, the ones that have gained notoriety amongst my people. He has found nothing that comes close to that name or description.”

“What Dwarven Kingdoms are in the North?”

“The Grey Mountains. But they were settled by my forefathers. Dragons and Orcs were too much to fight off, so they came back here to Erebor and others to the Iron Hills. We have some mining camps farther North but that’s it. No kingdoms have been established outside of Durin’s folk, and they are loyal to me.”

Bilbo hummed as he let out another couple smoke rings. “What about the White Kingdom.” The hobbit let the question hang in the air, and it quickly became heavy between them. “Mistlynn was their princess correct? What is her father’s name?”

Thorin blinked as he silently berated himself for not even considering Mistlynn’s people. “She told me her Adad is a recluse, that he has forbidden any contact with any kingdom outside of the Northern Wastes.”

“That is her father. What about her Grandfather?”

“I’ve never asked. And she has never volunteered the information.” Thorin’s tone became low and quiet. “Honestly Bilbo, I didn’t even consider her people. Until she came, her people were just a myth.”

“I’m not suggesting that Mistlynn is intentionally keeping things from you. From what I’ve gathered, she would rather forget her homeland, her people and begin anew here with you.” Bilbo paused as he gave Thorin a pointed look. “But I doubt her people have stayed hidden for centuries. It may not be her father, but what of her grandfather? Or her ancestors? If some of these other Dwarf Lords are so upset that you have married her, it must be for a reason. Whether they know something of her kingdom or not, there is no way a kingdom of dragon slaying dwarves and elves have kept completely to themselves.”

“I assumed they were upset due to her elven lineage. But word of my alliance with Dale and Mirkwood has reached them as well. My family’s history with the Ironfists and the Stiffbeards have always been tedious. I wasn’t surprised when they refused to assist me with my quest to reclaim Erebor.” Thorin had stood up and began to pace in front of Bilbo who was still seated on the bench.

“You, along with the company, are the most forward-thinking dwarves I have heard of. Even your people here are starting to become more open minded when it comes to the other races. This will be seen as a threat to other clans, as I was perceived by you at the beginning of our quest. But I am sure you will be able to persuade them, especially with Mistlynn at your side. You just need to get to the bottom of this threat that your grandfather received, and the rest should fall into place. And I believe the answer lies with the White Kingdom.” Bilbo closed his lips around his pipe as he continued to hum thoughtfully, outright ignoring the incredulous stare Thorin was giving him at that moment.
“I didn’t see you as a threat.” Thorin mumbled gruffly as he stopped pacing to look at Bilbo directly.

Bilbo tossed his head back and laughed heartily. “Indeed, I was, my friend. A burden. A nuisance. A threat. No need to be ashamed of that. I had just as much to prove to myself as I did to you. Our friendship is the stronger for it.” Bilbo swung his feet as he gave Thorin a cheery grin.
Thorin’s lip twitched with a promise of a smile, but he couldn’t allow it. Not with his thoughts racing with all Bilbo had given him to think about.

Bilbo was shrewd, and had a knack for sensing inner turmoil, especially when it came to his friends. “Why have you not spoken to Balin about this?”

Thorin let out a resigned huff as he looked down at his boots. “I’ve put Balin through enough with Dragon sickness. To have him read my Irak’adad’s journal when he was in the height of his sickness …” he trailed off his thought before he brought his gaze back up to meet Bilbo’s. “I’ve been having dreams since I read that journal. Dreams that don’t make sense …” he stopped. His eyes shifted back down to the ground before him. “But they do.”

Bilbo’s brows furrowed as he watched Thorin’s expression change from confusion, frustration, then suddenly realization.

“Durin’s beard.” Thorin exhaled, as he rubbed his face with his palm. “The Arkenstone, Mistlynn.”

“I am sorry. What?” the hobbit shifted his weight forward as he looked at Thorin, intrigued.

“My dream. I had a dream of Frerin and Vili. They told me it was hers to wield. That it was never ours to keep.”

Bilbo’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “You're brother? What is hers to wield?”

Thorin swallowed thickly. His mouth became dry as if it was filled with sand. “The Arkenstone.” He breathed.

Chapter Text

*Thorin**

Bilbo and Ori both jumped in surprise as the book slammed onto the table with a resounding ‘thwack’
“Again! Nothing!” Thorin growled, his tone shaking with his increasing anger. “Nothing to indicate the infernal thing is anything more than a gem that was mined from the caves of Erebor.”

“It’s not the books fault.” Bilbo scolded gently as he pushed the book towards Ori.

“The only thing of note that it’s from an unknown source, unlike any jewel ever seen in brightness and color.” Ori recited from his notes before looking between Bilbo and Thorin, grimacing at the lack of detail his King was in dire need of finding.

Thorin nodded impatiently. “Yes. Yes, we know all of this already. Why is it that this King Varric thought the Arkenstone was the Iklal Kurdu he was looking for? And how in Durin’s name is it a weapon that my wife is supposedly supposed to wield?”

“Not that I am doubting this dream of yours, or the unnerving coincidence of your grandfather’s writings speaking of unknown threats over a ‘cold heart’, but there is literally nothing in any of these records. According to this, the gem didn’t require being cut to achieve its preexisting radiance. We also can’t be sure they meant Mistlynn.” Bilbo sighed, just as frustrated with the lack of any further information.

“It was mined here! And who else could they be talking about? Dis?” Thorin seethed as he jumped to his feet and began to pace in front of the table. “This so-called King must have been mistaken! He was just as mad as my grandfather was.”

Bilbo and Ori glanced at each other. Bilbo pressed his lips into a grimace as he rubbed the back of his neck. “That is a very grievous mistake for a king to make… to threaten another king with war over a supposed weapon in the form of a jewel?”

Thorin answering laugh was a snarky one. “One would think.”

“We are missing something. Perhaps if we had it brought out from the vaults…” Bilbo tried to diplomatically suggest, fully aware at how sensitive his friend was at the mere mention of the stone.

“No!” Thorin spat, his eyes flashing with a darkness Bilbo hadn’t seen since their quest just years before. “It stays in the depths of this mountain to keep its poison from touching anyone in this family!”

Ori looked down at the table, stricken at Thorin’s outburst while Bilbo slowly shook his head and sighed. “I’m not saying we bring it out and leave it, I’m just suggesting we should consider examining it.”

“No Bilbo. We have all seen it and the only thing it seems to be capable of is corruption and rot.”

Bilbo’s fingers thrummed against the table as he stared hard at Thorin, who returned the hobbits glare with his own. “You conquered its hold over you, Thorin.” He sighed before continuing. “You know we have no choice but to look at it further, to see if there is anything that may have been missed, especially since we now know it could be more than just a gem.”

Thorin closed his eyes as he fought to control his breathing as he listened to Bilbo continue. “I understand that you want to protect Mistlynn. I really do, but if we don’t rule out the Arkenstone and we ignore this … issue… it may put her in even more danger, if not put us all in danger.”

Thorin swallowed thickly as he opened his eyes. He saw the sympathy in Bilbo’s gaze, and he couldn’t argue with the hobbits point. He had the most annoying habit of being right and seeing the difficult truth and speaking it aloud when others were not ready to accept it.
He couldn’t shake Frerin and Vili’s foreboding words, they had never appeared in his dreams in such a manner of warning. It had been so specific, and he could feel something was off, he could feel something was lurking in the shadows just waiting to reveal itself. “I am afraid it will corrupt her. Nothing good can come of it.” The thoughts became words, slipping through his lips as shaky confession that gutted him to his very core. “I cannot lose her to its evil.”

Bilbo clenched his jaw as his glistened with teary understanding. Before he could find the right words to comfort his friend, heavily rushed footsteps echoed in the darkened room of the library.

“Mahal be praised. We have been looking everywhere for you!” Balin’s voice was strained, making Thorin’s head whip around quickly to face him as he approached. His advisors face was ashen, as was Gloin’s and Dwalin’s as they accompanied him.

Thorin stood quickly from his seat, his body tense. “What is it?”

“It’s not a coincidence that you are researching the Arkenstone.” Balin’s tone was grave. “You should have come to me sooner.”

Thorin tilted his head as his eyes narrowed, “What do you mean?”

Gloin cleared his throat. “I was checking in on the weekly accounts after dinner. I noticed it was significantly colder. Colder than I have ever felt it. Even when we first claimed it from Smaug when the furnaces were still cold.”

Thorin raised his eyebrows as a slithering sense of unease snaked through his body. The sound of Bilbo’s chair being pushed back against the stone floor did nothing to break the uneasiness that now filled the room.

“I followed the draft, coming deep from the vaults…” Gloin paused, taking a deep, steading breath before continuing. “It’s coming from the Arkenstone. The door and locks were frosted over. I had to summon Balin and Dwalin’s help to open it.”

Thorin’s eyes flashed as he studied the three before him. Dwalin’s jaw was clenched tightly. “Ye need to come see it fer yerself.” Dwalin ground out, as he gave Thorin a resolute look.

“I don’t go into the treasury, let alone the vaults.” Thorin’s expression was stone.

“I’ll blindfold you if I must Thorin, but you need to come. Immediately.” Balin pressed, his voice shaking with a stress Thorin had rarely heard come from his friend. Thorin studied the three of them for a moment, before sighing in resignation. “So be it. Ori, bring your notes. Bilbo, will you accompany us?”

Ori rushed to gather his quill and papers while Bilbo nodded, his expression grim. “Of course, my friend. Lead the way.”

******
The group made their way quickly through the darkened halls. Thorin fought to keep his heart from racing as they drew closer to the treasury with every step. He hadn’t set foot into the treasury rooms since that last battle he fought with himself, when the armies of his cousin, Dale, and Mirkwood were fighting the legion of orcs and goblins that had amassed outside the gates of Erebor.
His fists were clenched tightly, his breathing rapid as he kept his eyes straight ahead of him. His teeth ground against one another as the massive, gilded stone doors came into view. The guards opened the doors for them as they drew near, allowing them to enter without a word being uttered between them.

Thorin sucked in harsh breath through his teeth as the dull golden glow from the amassed riches bounced around the walls and pillars that surrounded him. He kept his eyes forward, trained on the back of Gloin’s head as they followed the treasurer into the hallway that led into the caverns of the vaults. He noted the abrupt change in the temperature, and he couldn’t help the shudder that coursed through him. As they continued further down, he could see the puffs of his breath freezing in the air surrounded them.

“Blessed Yavanna.” He heard Bilbo’s teeth rattle. “This cold doesn’t feel natural.”

“Tis not.” Dwalin growled, his dark eyes sparkling in the dim light of the hallway torches. Bilbo drew his arms around himself to fight the cold that was seeping through his dinner jacket.
He nearly ran into the back of Ori as they came to an abrupt stop and stared at a door, thickly encrusted with a sparking frost, tendrils of ice reaching out and spreading across the floor and walls surrounding the door.

Thorin stepped forward, unable to tear his eyes away from the door. “Open it.” He barely breathed out, dread filling him as fast as the nausea that was beginning to overwhelm him.

Gloin nodded grimly as he fought with the iced over lock and entered in the combo only he and Balin knew. The locking mechanism clicked as it opened. Gloin braced his shoulder against the door and gave it a bodily shove. Thick frost broke free from the hinges and door frame as it swung open, letting the dwarves and hobbit enter.

Bilbo felt the color drain from his face as his eyes fell on the pedestal that stood in the middle of the room. It was encrusted with an even thicker layer of frost. It hurt to breath in the air of the room as ice crystals floated on the frozen air, glittering in the eerie light that was coming from the stone that was placed on top of the pedestal.

“That … that isn’t how I remember it.” Bilbo stuttered, the first one capable of breaking the uneasiness and dread that was thick in the heavy icy air.

Thorin no longer felt the bitter cold biting into his skin. His lips were parted as his breathing became labored as he stared in disbelief at the source of his inner torment. Bile burned back of his throat, his wide, unblinking eyes reflecting the cold, sparkling light that seemed to overflow from the depths of the gem. A silvery blue mist churned from within the gem, as if it were a turbulent sea that was roaring, trapped within its prismed walls. He couldn’t tear his eyes from it as he took cautious steps towards it.

“Careful now.” Balin chided, his voice tight with worry. “Do not touch it.”

Thorin didn’t notice Dwalin stepping behind him, close enough to grab his friends arm if need be. “When did you notice this?” he managed to choke out as he kept his gaze solely on the Arkenstone.

“It wasn’t like this yesterday. I walked past this door before locking the vault master door yesterday evening, and nothing was amiss. It was when I came in this evening, after dinner that I noticed it.” Gloin stepped to stand beside Thorin, his brows furrowed in concern.

“A weapon. That’s what they said.” Thorin breathed out.

“Who said?” Balin pressed, his eyes widening at Thorin’s whisper.

“Frerin and Vili.” Thorin’s throat bobbed before he tore his eyes from the gem back to Balin. “They came to me in a dream. Warning me about the Arkenstone. That it wasn’t ours to keep. That it was meant for her to wield it.”

“Her?” Balin questioned as Dwalin huffed incredulously.

“They said she was the heart, and that I couldn’t lose her. That she would be the one to return the balance to our people.” Thorin crossed his arms over his chest before he rubbed a hand over his mouth and beard, to clear away the frost that was beginning to form from the vapors of his breath.

“Do you know who they spoke of?” Balin stepped closer, his eyes sliding from Thorin’s face to the glowing Arkenstone.

Thorin sighed heavily as he closed his eyes and shook his head. “I have my suspicions.”

Dwalin growled. “Ye have been keepin things from us.”

Thorin’s eyes shot open, flashing in annoyance at Dwalin. “I’ve been trying to make sense of things before I came to anyone. I just told Bilbo and Ori this evening. Not that I have to explain myself to any of you.”

“Now is not the time to be at each other’s throats.” Bilbo rushed in between the two dwarves. “It’s a lot to process. And it is just speculation at this point until we can find further information.”

“We cannot help if you do not tell us what you know.” Balin pressed. “Who do you think they are warning you about?”

Thorin turned away from the Arkenstone. He couldn't bear to look at it anymore. His jaw was clenched as he made eye contact with each of his companions. “Mistlynn.” He whispered.

The silence grew heavier as the air itself seemed to press down on them oppressively. Balin, Dwalin and Gloin looked at each other in alarm. “Why do ya say tha?” Dwalin’s bushy brows where furrowed, clearly surprised.

“I found a journal of my grandfathers, hidden in a secret compartment in the desk in our quarters during our honeymoon. I read through it and found out that a King Varric of a Northern Kingdom was demanding the return of the Iklal Kurdu, otherwise he would see the refusal as a declaration of war. It only added to the fire behind his madness, because he just assumed he was demanding the Arkenstone.”

“I remember none of this.” Balin shook his head back and forth adamantly. “When did this take place?”

Bilbo rocked back and forth, from his toes to his heels as he rubbed his hands vigorously over his arms. “It was several years before Smaug came. Ori and I checked the timeline and it falls in line with the deterioration of Thror’s good sense. It was a catalyst almost to everything that could have possibly gone wrong.”

“He said nothing to our Adad.” Balin squeezed the bridge of his nose. “The Iklal Kurdu?”

“Speaking of cold heart, I am freezing in here.” Bilbo stammered as his teeth began to chatter.

Thorin’s stomach plummeted like a rock after being tossed into the sea. He looked at Bilbo then back to the glowing Arkenstone. “The cold heart. Durin’s beard, its one in the same.”

“It’s been in hands of our kin for centuries, why is it just now doing this?” Gloin rumbled. “After all that’s happened since it was discovered.”

“Something awakened it.” Balin’s expression became grim as he looked at Thorin. “Has anything happened since this morning? Did you notice anything different about Mistlynn.”

Thorin shook his head adamantly. “No, nothing. We just spent the morning together. I played the harp and she …” he trailed off as it all began to slide into place. “She sang. I’ve never heard her sing before. Her voice is unlike anything I have ever heard. It was as if the mountain around us was listening.”

“Of course.” Balin murmured. “She told me of her mother’s gift of song. I have my suspicions she may have been an Aria.”

“A what?” Gloin and Dwalin looked at Balin in confusion.

“An enchantress of song.” Ori explained hurriedly, eager to get out the freezing room. “They are a myth. Supposedly they can influence the elements, or earth, or even dormant objects of magic with their voice. It was said their line died out towards the middle of the second age.”

“I've never heard of an Aria in the tales of our people. She never said anything, just that her Amad taught her how to sing and her Adad forbid her from singing after her death.” Thorin crossed his arms over his chest, despising how more and more just seemed to fall into place when it came to his One.

“That’s because it’s a gift that was gifted by the Valar to the Elves. One of the many forms of magic they can wield that is passed down through generations. The gift of an Aria can only be passed down and inherited directly from mother to daughter. Apparently, Mistlynns Adad knew of her gift, and wanted it silenced.” Balin grimaced.

“Why?” Thorin managed to breathe out, his mind now racing with all the new information.

“I don’t know. She only said her adad couldn’t cope with it.” Balin’s frown deepened.

‘All of this …” Thorin gestured sharply around him, “Doesn’t leave this room. We will research this in secret, I do not want Mistlynn knowing until we have some answers.”

“Thorin…” Both Balin and Bilbo began at once, protesting the secrecy but Thorin silenced them with one sharp look.

“No. We have no idea how this will affect her. Until I know she is not in danger, she is not to know.” His tone was unyielding. “I don’t want her anywhere near the treasury. Keep eyes on her and make sure she stays clear from this part of Erebor.” He glanced over at the glowing Arkenstone with ill-concealed contempt. “It may draw her in if she is too close.”

Balin sighed reluctantly, before nodding his head. “Very well, but I suggest only until we learn more. Secrets will do nothing but make this worse for you both.”

Thorin gritted his teeth. “I am fully aware of this, but at this point I don’t know how or what to tell her. She doesn’t seem to have any sort of understanding about the Arkenstone or her possibly being an Aria and I will not burden her with this along with everything else.”

His comrades nodded their head in silent compliance. “Lock up Gloin. Make sure no one but yourself or Balin come down here.”

“Of course.”

**********

*Mistlynn**

Weeks had passed since Mistlynn had noticed the change in Thorin, as if overnight it occurred without warning. He and Bilbo had been spending a lot of time together, so she just assumed they were catching up.
But the nights were becoming later, and his eyes were often distant and lost in thought of whatever was preoccupying his time. She brought it up to Bilbo, who just brushed it off with a smile and gentle pat to her hand, assuring her they were just trying to sort through some of the old records they had discovered from Thror’s rule. She could see how that would be trying for Thorin, since the relationship he had with his grandfather had been a complicated one.

She tried to take on more tasks during the day, hoping to alleviate some of his stress.
Balin and Dis praised her ability to adapt quickly to the everyday politics that were essential in the running of the massive kingdom. She was especially keen on negotiating, and she helped draft and establish trade agreements that Balin had written off as nearly impossible to ascertain. She took many merchants and visiting emissaries by surprise with her quick wit and intellect. Word had spread she was a feral beauty from a distant rural town in the North.
She relished those moments when they realized they had been beaten badly in their own crafted game of half-truths and twisted words, and that there was more to her than just an exotic face.

She found herself desperate to make Thorin proud, to prove to all those who looked down on her that her savagery was so much more than her isolated upbringing. She knew that her worth wasn’t determined by her ability to best the male warriors in the ring like it had been for her father, who had kept her out of all matters of running the White Kingdom. Thorin prized hard work and intellect above all else besides loyalty, and she was determined to prove herself worthy of him and his love.

She couldn’t allow her old insecurities to rear their ugly head in her new life. She had Thorin, a new family and friends who loved and valued her, she would tell herself whenever she felt the cold prick of doubt creep up her spine. She wouldn’t allow herself to pout or feel sorry for herself whenever he was late to dinner or bed, when he would answer her questions about his day with distracted, simple responses and a brief kiss to her temple.

Their intimate moments she now craved with a fiery tenacity were becoming fewer and farther between, much to her growing unease. But her doubts would be dashed the moment he would quietly slip into their bed late at night and immediately pull her against his body and wrap her in his arms. She savored those hours where the world stilled and she could just be, loved and safe in his embrace. She knew in the morning when she awoke that warmth and safety would be gone, and she would feel the cold settle in just like it had on the side he had lain only hours before.

It was times like this she missed her mother, or rather the idea of her. She couldn't remember her in exact detail or summon a complete memory with her in it, but she remembered the comfort and love she felt when she would hold her and sing her to sleep. It saddened her that she couldn't remember her beyond those fleeting things, as if more of her memory could fill that void deep within her that ached to be full. She loathed these moments of weakness and would chastise herself thoroughly for it.

She had always pushed down the pain of her mother's absence in her life before. She put on a brave face, determined and unflinching like her father taught her. She had to survive the brutality of her world and harshness from her father and brother.

But now, as she acclimated to her new life, she witnessed the relationship Dis and Gemlinn had with their sons, of the love and laughter they shared. And she found herself feeling old wounds opening slowly as that part of her awakened; a young, scared little girl who silently grieved the loss of her mother and craved the love of her broken father. Love had been something he was no longer capable of giving, not in the way she needed it as a young dam.

Argos had been her only comfort in her life, the last good thing her mother had done in this world. She still struggled to accept his death, and often imagined him still alive and still helping herd the reindeer and fishing like he had always preferred doing over fighting. He had been a loving Dwarrow and openly declared his preference of cultivating life rather than taking it unless circumstances called for it, much to Valinn’s loathing disappointment.

The stability of her life now let her see all that she lacked, of what she had been denied. She knew how to be efficient and lethal, how to hold her head high and take charge without fear. But to feel anything other than anger and drive was terrifying.
Since coming to Erebor she had been given and seen love in its entirety, and she was beginning to realize that she was ill equipped to take it all in, to accept it as something permanent and not fleeting. It was all beginning to sneak up on her amidst the stillness, like a predator would on its cornered prey. The anxiety and fear would arise, threatening to steal her breath from her. But, she would bend it to her will and shove it back down, into the dark and cold places within her soul, banished and subdued but never really gone. It preyed on this fear that thrived in her constant anger, that she wasn’t enough, that she was sorely lacking and undeserving. And that it was only a matter of time before Thorin, along with everyone else saw that as well.

Dis and Rosalyn’s jovial laughter broke her reverie, and she was brought back to her current reality. She was walking through the bustling markets, arms linked as they mingled through the sea of content faces. Dwalin had finally admitted that Rosalyn was his One and proposed, much to everyone’s delight and relief. They were now getting ideas of what Rosalyn wanted for the ceremony flowers and were meeting Dori in his shop to begin the sketches for her gown.

She had a smile fixed on her face, occasionally nodding, and expressing her approval on something one of her friends said, but she wasn’t fully present. She let them lead the way, and she was glad they couldn’t see her inner turmoil. She was desperate for it to go away.

They walked through the door of Dori’s shop, and were greeted enthusiastically. She felt her spirits lift slightly at the sight of the excitable Dwarrow who was eager to design another of his comrades One’s bridal gowns.

“I am so honored to help you design your gown!” Dori had ahold of both of Rosalyn’s hands as he beamed at her. “I never thought I would see the day Mahal would bless that cranky old badger with his One. I’ve never seen him smile so much; I would be terrified if I hadn’t known the reason!”

They all laughed while Rosalyn blushed profusely, her eyes twinkling with happiness. “I could scarcely believe it myself! I guess I have Dis to thank for the romantic proposal.”

“Oh, he just needed a little nudge. Thorin was quite useful himself in encouraging him to finally admit it. They are not hard and tough as they want others to believe them to be.” Dis chuckled knowingly. “Now my dear Dori, I know you! You already have some good ideas for our dear Rosalyn. You have been betting on this match since before Thorin and Mist got married.”

“You know me all too well Dis.” Dori smiled, pleased with his foresight on the matter.

Mistlynn was smiling at their banter as she let her eyes look over all the brightly colored fabrics that filled the walls around her. Different textures and patterns, luminous silks and luscious folds of jewel toned velvets drew her attention away from the conversation as she turned and walked further into the shop.

Another room lay adjacent, where a platform surrounded by mirrors was arranged perfectly to capture the daylight that was cascading through the led cast windows etched into the front of Erebor where the massive front gates where located. She stopped abruptly at the threshold of the room, taken aback by the sight of one of Dori’s seamstress’s working.

It was a young dam no older than 10. Her long golden curls were pinned up perfectly with shiny blue ribbons, framing a beaming face with honey brown eyes that sparkled in the light. She was too busy admiring the beautiful dress in the mirror to notice the Queen’s presence behind her.

Mistlynn stepped back, hiding herself partially with the wall as she continued to watch. Another dam stood from her seat and walked up towards the mirrors; her smile just as wide as the younger dam’s as they made eye contact in the mirror directly in front of them.

Mistlynn felt her chest clench tightly as she watched the older dam, undeniably the mother turn her head to look down at her daughter with an unbridled affection as she smoothed and rearranged her daughters golden curls. Her lips were moving, her voice too low for anyone else but the daughter to hear. By the way the young dam’s face beamed with a joy that radiated from deep within her, it was undoubtedly praise of her beauty. The mother's smile became soft as she leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on top of her head before caressing her cheek softly as she tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

Mistlynn swallowed hard, too caught up watching this tender moment between mother and daughter to realize she had a stray tear escaping her burning eyes and silently running down her cheek.
She didn’t even hear or feel Dis approaching her from behind. “There you are! We didn’t realize you had walked off. Did something catch your …” Dis stopped abruptly as she gently placed her hand on Mistlynn’s arm. “Mistlynn, dearest? Is everything alright?”

Mistlynn jumped, alarmed, and embarrassed that she was caught in such a weakened state. She coughed, attempting to hide the tremble in her voice as she quickly rubbed her cheek dry. “Oh! Some dust got in my eyes. I was just looking at this beautiful fabric.” She looked up at Dis briefly to see the concern evident on her face before turning away quickly. “Did Dori find his designs yet? I am so eager to see what he’s drawn up for her.” Mistlynn went to step back towards the main room where she could hear Dori and Rosalyn talking.

Dis’s grip on her arm tightened, stopping her from walking ahead. “Mist. Are you sure? You seem upset.” Dis lowered her voice as she tried and failed to make eye contact with her friend.

“Yes Dis. Why wouldn’t I be fine? It was just some dust.” Mistlynn smiled her brightest smile as she focused her gaze over Dis’s shoulder and stepped towards the main room.

Dis frowned as she watched Mistlynn walk away to join their friends. She looked back towards the fitting room and watched the mother and daughter bond over a new dress that matched the pretty blue ribbons in the girls hair. Dis’s brow furrowed in confusion before turning away, unable to dismiss the look of pain on Mistlynn’s face as that lone tear slid down her cheek.

***********

Later that afternoon...

** Thorin ***

“I take it there was nothing useful he could tell us?” Bilbo grimaced as he saw the exasperated look on Thorin’s face.

“Nothing other than more speculation.” Thorin sighed. “He had his scholars look, they found nothing even close. The only shared history we have with Mirkwood is our past trade routes and past conflicts with my forefathers. The furthest back they go is when our kin were contracted to construct his halls."

“I thought Thranduil actually fought against drakes in the great wars?” Ori blinked owlishly behind his spectacles.

Thorin nodded. “He did, but it was his father who witnessed Azaghal slaying Glaurung. They knew Thingol but were not present in Menegroth when it was sacked by Nogrod. He can only agree with our suspicions that the Nauglamir may have been similar to the Arkenstone. It drove the Dwarves of Nogrod mad when Thingol refused to let them keep it as payment for their work, and from what he knows it drove Thingol mad with greed as well.”

“That is but one account. From one source.” Balin grumbled as he steepled his hands in front of his as he rested against the table.

Thorin groaned. “I don’t know of any other source to reach out to unless we chance an expedition to Moria. And Durin knows what those bloody goblins have done to the archives there.” He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his forehead wearily. “I do not wish to reach out to Rivendell or Lothlorien just yet, and Gandalf it seems has disappeared.”

Frustrated silence fell upon the room. Bilbo let out and exaggerated breath after a moment. “Well, maybe I can make a stop in Rivendell on my way back this spring … he will be more than happy to assist me with my research since I didn’t offend him the last time I was there.”

Amused chuckles filled the room.

“Twas all in good fun.” Dwalin mumbled begrudgingly as he rubbed his beard with his hand.

“You burned their furniture and bathed in their fountain!” Bilbo protested in mock horror.

“I apologized to him!” Thorin groused back, trying to bite back a mischievous grin at the memory. “I sent him a formal apology and a satchel of what? Gold? Diamonds?...”

“Sapphires, rubies and diamonds.” Balin chuckled.

Thorin smirked at Bilbo. “Yes! Now, he can buy as much furniture and fountains to his heart’s content.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “Rogues. The whole lot of you.” He scoffed as he closed the book in front of him and stretched.

“You do know what they say about guilty by association and all that implies right? Barrel rider?” Thorin’s smirk grew into a full grin as he leaned back into his chair.

Dwalin threw his head back and laughed heartedly, as did Balin and Ori as they watched Bilbo’s mouth hang open before he started laughing along.

“I must admit that one just rolled off the tongue in the moment. However, when you say it, it sounds utterly ridiculous.”

Their laughter was interrupted by Dis opening the door to his office and briskly walking in.

“Why yes, sister. Do come in.” Thorin drawled as he made eye contact with Dis from his seat.

Dis crossed her arms over chest as she popped her hip to the side, her eyebrow raised in challenge. “I heard cackling through the door, no point in knocking.”

Dwalin snorted. “Dinnae say ye were dress shoppin with ma Rosie?”

“We are finished for the day. Just reporting to my brother like he asked me to if I noticed anything was amiss with our Queen.”
The playful smirk vanished from his mouth as he stood up quickly and walked towards Dis. “If she has anything to do with this research scavenger hunt you all have been tiptoeing around, I’m telling you right now it has to stop.” She shook a firm finger at Thorin while the rest of the room grew somber.

“What happened?” Thorin was now standing in front of her, his undivided attention on her.

“What is it that you’re doing Thor?” Dis whispered, just so that he could hear. “She hasn’t said much to me about anything, but she’s quieter. More withdrawn. I caught her crying at Dori’s shop when she did think I was watching her. If this is all about her you have to let me know, so that I can help you both better."

Thorin’s bright eyes grew wide in alarm. “Crying?” he nearly shouted, drawing their friends immediate attention at the word. Thorin grimaced at his unintentional outburst at the word. He looked back to see them all looking at him worried.

“I told you nothing good would come from keeping secrets from each other.” Balin sighed wearily. “She knows something is happening, you have been looking into this day in, day out, late into the wee hours of the morning. She isn’t stupid, Laddie.” He gave Thorin a pointed look. Bilbo nodded his head in agreement with the advisors words.

“She was watching these customers in the dress shop. The daughter was getting fitted for a dress while the mother was watching. I’ve never seen her look so sad, Thorin. She didn’t even notice she was crying.” Dis was frowning as she looked directly at Thorin. “Whatever it is you’ve done or haven’t done. Just fix it.” She scolded gently.

Thorin shook his head in bewilderment. “I haven’t done or said anything. Dis, I’ll catch you up with what is going on but I can’t tell Mistlynn about anything just yet. I don’t have enough information.”

“That’s the problem, Thorin.” Balin stood up from his chair. “She knows something is holding your attention, and it isn’t her. You haven’t even been married for 3 months yet.”

“This is all about her, and her safety Balin, you know that.” Thorin growled in frustration.

“What Balin is saying is that she doesn’t know that. It is time that you spoke with her. See if she knows anything. She may hold the key to all of it and may not even realize it.” Bilbo spoke before anyone could interject. “I will inform Dis about everything. But it is time, as Balin said, to talk to Mistlynn.”

“Well, dinner is about to be served. And I’m telling you it bothers her that you have been either late or skipping.” Dis pinned Thorin with a pointed glare. “She hasn’t said as much but I can tell. So why don’t we all make it to dinner, and you can talk to her afterwards?”

Thorin studied Dis for a moment before nodding in agreement. “Very well.” He conceded,

Chapter Text

Chapter 21

**********************

Mistlynn hadn't managed to sneak away from dinner as she had originally hoped. She had planned on sneaking into the dining hall to sneak a roll and goblet of wine and slip back out. Just as she was about to escape the roomsneak back out, she ran into a solid chest.

"Now that is just a shameful waste of good wine." Fili admonished; playfulness evident in his voicetone.

She groaned as she looked down at the spots on his jacket. "I'm so sorry Fili. I was just eager to get back to my room."

"And deprive us of your delightful company? Really Irak'namad that's just hurtful." Despite his jovial tone he was giving her a worried look.

"Really Fili? Stop calling me that. CI want you to call me by my name." Mistlynn grumbled as she attempted to wipe off the wine on his jacket while avoiding his gaze.

Fili laughed "That's what you are! If anyone outside our circle heard me call you by your given name…"

Mistlynn gave him a non-threatening glare. "I don't care, itsit's weirdodd. You and Kili are my friends."

"And now you are family. And you should be joining us at our family table. Not sneaking off to your rooms."

Mistlynn's nose wrinkled as she pursed her lips into a pout. "You sound like your mother." She grumbled as she took Fili's arm that he held out for her.

"I am sorry that Uncle has been so busy. It is for a very good reason, I promise you. He was just bragging to everyone in the council room today how you had the Broadbeam emissary by histhe beard by the time your negotiations were over."

Mistlynn couldn't help the giggle that escaped her. "I didn't appreciate how he kept looking at my ears, as if he were expecting points to burst from them at any given moment."

Fili snorted. "If he doubted your constitution as a dwarrowdam before, I doubt he is questioning it now. You make Amad and Gemlinn look positively demure."

They approached the table in the private dining room for the royal family. Thorin, right after reclaiming Erebor, commissioned a giant round table to be made. He didn't want to sit at the head of a table that was reserved for his family and closest friends who supported him through the hardest and most dangerous of times. The company that had followed him to reclaim Erebor were given titles and apartments befitting nobles. Mistlynn had been surprised by this at first, but she couldn't imagine it any other way after she had grown accustomed to the closeness they all shared.

Fili pulled a seat back, motioning for her to sit before he took a seat beside her. She watched as their friends began to file into the room, immersed in their own conversations. She was fond of each and every one of them and she felt the pang of guilt that she tried to sneak away before they had arrived. She sat back and observed everyone as they settled into their seats all the while continuing their interactions. She felt the sadness inside dissipate slightly in their presence and she felt herself relax against the back of her chair.

Kili collapsed in the seat on the other side of Fili. "I am starving." He was grinning from ear to ear. "I could smell the roast from the front gatesgates, and it was absolute agony."

Mistlynn couldn't help the amused snort that escaped her at his choice of dramatic words. "Speaking of agony, brother…."

Fili sputtered in his goblet and started to shake his head emphatically. "Don't you dare you heathen spawn."

"I heard from Dori, who heard from Bofur that a certain dam …"

"Do not speak her name." Fili groaned.

"Tillia…" Kili leaned across his brother in attempt to make full eye contact with Mistlynn. "Was trying to get my poor brother alone after he finished his tours in the mines."

Mistlynn felt herself scowl as her eyebrow raised pointedly at Fili. "Fili, you promised you would tell me if any dams started to bother you again." She chided him.

Fili scowled at his brother. "I am a grown Dwarrow for Mahal's sake. I can handle it myself."

"I heard she had her sights set on Dain's oldest son Thorin III, until we reclaimed the mountain. Her and her family made no waste of time in resettling here. Her and her Amad have made it well known their intentions to catch themselves a Durin." Dori sniffed, as if the young dam's name offended every one of his senses.

Mistlynn's eyes narrowed. "The dark blonde dam with the dresses that look tikelike they belong on top of a cake?"

The table erupted in laughter at her words. She hadn't realized everyone had started listening to their conversation. Fili groaned as he began to rub the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Aye! That's the one!" Bofur nodded as he poured a goblet of wine for Raila then another filled with water for Coryn who sat next to her sister.

Raila was giving Fili a sympathetic look. "I remember her mother was no better." Her soft voice had an edge of warning to it. "I was youngyoung, but I knew what her and her sister were trying to do and catch the eye of the young noble Dwarrow'sboys."

Mistlynn felt herself bristle at that. Her hands clenched in her lap as she gave Fili a pointed look. "Do I need to have a little chat with this Miss Tillia?"

Fili's eyes became wide as saucers. "What? No, Mist that is not necessary."

"It may be necessary." Gemlinn spoke up from across the table, her tone serious. "You don't want that wretched female to corner you and force your hand by creating a scene that looks like you both are compromised. She would shout it out from the peaks of this mountain to ensure your reputation would be ruined if you didn't wed her. Who better to deter her than the Queen."

"Well, that settles that." Mistlynn grabbed her goblet and took a hearty drink. "I'll speak with her tomorrow."

"Just have Amad talk to her Mist. You dontdon't need to trouble yourself." Fili grumbled as he attempted to cover his expression behind his goblet.

Mistlynn snorted. "Why would I let Dis have all the fun? IveI've been aching for the chance to stretch my legs and shoot my bow. If she can pass my simple test, she may be worthy of some noble Dwarrow, I'll just make it abundantly clear that won't be you, my dear would be a good bonding experience between Queen and courtier."

The table fell silent. Bombur and his entire family had filed in and even they sat quiet after Mistlynns comment. She took another sip, unbothered by the fact everyone was staring at her.

"Test? My Queen?" Nori's eyes were twinkling brightly as he smirked. Nori had the same sense of humor she did, and she found herself quite fond of her husband's spymaster.

"Yes, a test. I will give her a 15-minute start in the wood, If she can get through to the clearing on the other side with the target still intact on her headhead, I will help her in her social ladder climbing endeavors." She explained coolly, as if it was the most simplesimplest of tasks to expect. "I'll be sure to have her dress in browns and instruct her to zig zag. If only to give me some sport at the very least."

Kili was the first to lose the fight not to laugh, and soon the room erupted once again in raucous laughter. Even Fili found himself laughing as he covered his face with his hands.

"Goodness me. What did we miss?" Dis walked in the room, quickly followed by Bilbo, Balin, Dwalin and Thorin.

"Nothing Amad." Fili laughed, still slightly mortified over the topic of their discussion.

"I heard something about zig zagging and sport." Thorin's deep baritone made a shiver run down Mistlynn's spine. She cursed his power to still elicit that reaction from her from just hearing his voice alone. She tried to keep her focus ahead as she felt him slide into the chair next to her. She felt a bristle of irritation trickle under her skin at his presence. So now he chooses to show up. Days had passed since they have had a moment to acknowledge each other's presence, let alone talk. It was easier to feel irritation and anger than sadness and unworthiness that had been clinging to her lately like a second skin lately.

"Nothing to trouble yourself over. I have it well under control. Nori will be more than willing to help meme, I am sure." She smiled sweetly, still not looking over at Thorin even though she could feel his gaze boring into the side of her face.

Nori chuckled as he raised his goblet to her. "I would be honored to help you with such a task. It will be most amusing for me."

"Not to mention the event of this new year." Bofur chortled.

"It would be the perfect occasion to try out the new marinade for roasted boar." Bombur added as he rubbed his hands together eagerly. More laughter ensued, leaving the newcomers confused as to what they missed.

Thorin shifted uncomfortably in his seat, fully aware that Mistlynn was purposefully refusing to acknowledge his presence. 'Great.' He braced himself for whatever unknown was awaiting him after dinner. It had been so long since they had been at odds with each other, not since their courtship began.

The servers began to bring the food in and set it at the table in front of them, and everyone began to dig in. Dis was unfortunately on the other side of Kili since he had Tauriel on a secret errand to retrieve certain documents from Thranduil on the history of Menegroth and their history with the Dwarves of Belegost and Nogrod.

A loud gasp from Dis drew his attention over to her and his nephews. Fili was once again red faced while Kili grinned as his sisters face grew dark with anger. "She did what now?"

"Amad, it was fine. Bofur and Nori stayed with me. They didn't leave me alone no matter her attempts."

"Insolent twit." Dis seethed as she took a gulp of her wine. "Mistlynn, you have my support for your trial."

"You would really subject some poor Dwarrow to be matched with her?" Fili looked between Dis and Mistlynn incredulously.

Mistlynn actually threw her head back and laughed. "Do you think I would miss my target?" Her green eyes twinkled mischievously. She turned back to her plate and began to cut her meat before continuing. "Actually, let me rephrase that. Have you ever seen me miss my target?"

"Well, actually …no." Fili surmised as he sat back in his chair. His complexion was slowly returning to its normal shade.

"Exactly. And I didn't specify which noble I would pair her with. My brother is a prince, I am sure he wouldn't object taking her as his Queen and broodmare. One doesn't need any intelligence or skill to fulfill that position. I would know."

Kili snorted into his goblet as the conversations around the table quietened. Thorin paused eating his dinner to look at her in shock as he watched Mistlynn daintily dab her mouth with her napkin before placing it on the table, not once looking in his direction. "Dinner was delicious Bombur, as always. I am feeling rather tired, so I am going to retire early. Good nightnight, everyone."

She pushed her seat back and stood, managing to avoid stepping too close to him as she stepped away from the table as everyone wished her a good night. Thorin chanced a look to his left, where Bilbo sat next to him along with Dwalin, Rosalyn and Balin. He watched Rosalyn give Mistlynn an incredulous stare as she mouthed "What is wrong with you?"

Mistlynn merely shrugged at her as she walked briskly to the door and exited without anything said further.

"Well, that went well." Bilbo murmured into his goblet, just loud enough for Thorin to hear. Thorin sighed in exasperation. "Shots fired and all that entails." The hobbit continued, louder this time so that the rest of the table could hear.

"And that would be your cue to follow her Thorin." Dis's voice was firm as she looked at him expectantly.

"She obviously does not want to talk to me, let alone be in my presence at the moment." Thorin ground out, his appetite forgotten as he pushed his plate away from him. He looked up across the table to see Gloin giving him a wide-eyed look as he subtly jerked his head towards the door that Mistlynn walked out of.

"What my dear husband is trying to say is, My King, is that you should get up and follow her now if you value the ability to create offspring." Gemlinn shared a knowing look with Dis who was nodding as she continued to cut the steak on her plate.

Bilbo sputtered into his napkin at Gemlinn's blunt words. "The great passive aggression, as my father used to say." He coughed as he reached for his goblet.

"Best to just get it done and over with. Rip it off like a bandage." Bombur added, earning a kick to the shin from his wife who gave him a questioning look.

Thorin grunted as he pushed his chair away from the table. "Duly noted." He grabbed his goblet of wine as he stood. He downed the rest of it in one gulp before bringing it back to the table. "Good evening."

Everyone bid their fare wells and well wishes as he left the dining room.

"She certainly is a spirited one." Bilbo chuckled, seeing this side of Mistlynn for the first time. The rest of the table chuckled in agreement.

"As I said the first time I saw her, she's perfect for him. And he, her." Dis smiled. "He is the calm to her storm."

"Here, here!" Bofur toasted, prompting everyone to raise their drinks to toast their King and Queen.

***************************************

Mistlynn walked briskly through the corridors, not sure where she wanted to go. She had let her emotions get the better of her and made a public display of her ire towards Thorin. She knew it wasn't all his doing, but his prolonged absence wasn't helping calm the storm that had begun to rage within her. She needed fresh air, to feel the chill against her skin and clear her lungs from the heavy air that had seemed to settle there.

She changed course quickly, deciding such reprieve wouldn't be granted on their private balcony. He was sure to follow and demand her to explain what her complaint was with him. Thorin couldn't abide contention, and she wasn't sure she could keep her wits about her and properly explain what it was that truly grieved her.

The moment she reached the private gardens she breathed in deeply, savoring the cold night air. It calmed her, as she knew it would. She felt her body awaken further with each deep inhale, expelling the suffocating heat that had been churning in her chest with each exhale.

The stars were shining bright in the cold night, the moon was a mere sliver nestled within their glittering bodies. She walked up to the stone banister that enclosed the space from the vast darkness that hid the jagged and steep sides of the Lonely Mountain.

The evening breeze was crisp, carrying the promise of snow upon its invisible body. She was eager to see snow again. She missed the way it blanketed the land, enveloping everything around her in that silence that allowed her to hear her heartbeat as it pumped the essence of life through her body, enabling her to feel how each breath empowered her body, to keep pushing, to keep moving forward.

She let her eyes close as the breeze caressed her face and played with the curly tendrils of her loose hair. She willed all thoughts to quiet as she focused on her breaths, of the steady rhythm of her heart. She savored the silence, relished the stillness. And she allowed herself to lose herself in that moment and didn't care how they stretched on before her.

It was after a while she felt him as he approached from behind. He didn't hide the fall of his steps as he slowly approached her. She swallowed, not sure how she felt that he was able to find her as quickly as he did. She felt his warmth seep into her back as he enveloped her with his body, his arms encircling her as he rested his hands on either side of hers. She fought the urge to melt into him like she craved to. Instead, she kept her back straight, her shoulders pinned back as she felt her fingers grip onto the rock banister in front of her.

She felt him exhale a weary sigh, his breath tickling her neck as he leaned forward, bracing himself fully with his hands as his body pressured even closer to her. "You are angry with me." It was a simple statement, his voice low and gravely.

She grit her teeth together but refused to reply. Her eyes were still squeezed shut as she willed herself to continue standing as still as a statue.

Suddenly, her eyes flew open as a gasp escaped her lips, her body shuddering as she felt his lips trace a heated trail from her collarbone up to the pulse point on her neck before nuzzling her. She cursed under her breath as she felt her body give, falling into his as he covered her hands with his before threading their fingers together.

"Tell me what you need of me, so that I may begin to beg for your forgiveness M'eudail." His breath was tantalizingly warm against the shell of her ear, his baritone sending tremors through her and effectively scrambling her thoughts.

"Damn you." She huffed as she began to feel the fight attempting to leave her body, so that she would be left entirely at his mercy. "I just need to be angry Thorin."

"At me?" he questioned, his lips still resting against her neck, their movement caressing her skin.

She sighed deeply in response. "You are partially to blame, although it wouldn't be fair to place it all entirely on you, I suppose." She grumbled, answering herself more than him in that moment.

"You suppose." He drawled, pulling away from her neck so that he could look down at her face. She couldn't help but tip her head back so that she could meet his gaze with her own. He cocked an eyebrow as he looked at her expectantly.

She bit her bottom lip, as she tried to sift through everything that had begun to make an appearance. They were ugly, uncomfortable things she couldn't quite put into proper words. It felt like they were almost indescribable and unfit to see the light of day. Her chest grew tight once again as she watched concern flash in his eyes. She looked away from him quickly.

"It has been very busy the past few weeks, a lot of those negotiations became heated, and you have been occupied with your own matters. It is of no consequence; I will adjust accordingly and endeavor to work out my frustrations during training." She pushed it all back down, willing it to submit. She could still feel his gaze on her face, hard and searching.

She heard him clear his throat as he shifted his weight as if he was getting ready to step back. He withdrew his hands from hers and before she could react his hands came to her waist and turned her around quickly to face him. He pushed her back against the banister with his body, one hand resting on the small of her back while the other came to trace the line of her jaw. Startled at the change of their position she didn't fight it when he tilted her head up to meet his gaze once more. "Firstly, I have been a poor excuse for a husband. I let things push you aside when you are the most important thing in my life. I am so deeply sorry for that M'eudail."

Mistlynn blinked rapidly in shock at his ready apology. She knew she had lashed out at him unfairly at dinner and here he was apologizing to her. Her throat constricted with sudden, overwhelming emotions as her eyes began to burn. "You don't have to apologize; I had no right to say what I said to you tonight. I was being childish." She croaked, her voice barely carrying over a whisper.

"You have been taking on a lot to lighten my workload, and you have been brilliant at it. And I haven't taken the time to tell you how much I appreciate all that you have done." His thumb brushed over her cheek reverently. "What I wouldn't give to see how you tackled each one of those conniving emissaries and merchants. You truly are a vision to behold. I am in awe of you."

His words made her gasp as her heart throbbed. She shook her head as she felt hot tears escape down her cheeks. "You are too generous with your praise, Kurdun."

"I am not generous enough and I am sorry. The late nights stop now, I promise you." He brought both hands up to cup her face gently, his thumbs rubbing her tears from her cheeks. "Were you harsh? Yes, and could you have spoken to me in private about this? Absolutely. But you were frustrated, and I didn't give you a lot of opportunity to speak to me, so no. Childish is not the word I would choose."

Mistlynn bit her lip hard as guilt crashed into her. Her hands gripped the front of his jacket in a vice like grip as she tried to ground herself, not wanting to expose all the pain that had started to resurface. She wasn't the only one who had suffered through pain. Her past wasn't an excuse for her weak behavior.

"It wasn't all you, Thorin. I've been dealing with other … things and you were the easiest for me to cast blame onto."

"Then talk to me. Tell me what is burdening you." He pleaded softly as he continued to rub her cheeks. His eyes were soft and tender, drawing her into the warmth of his crystal blue eyes. "Why were you crying in Dori's shop today? Dis said she had never seen you look so sad."

She felt her heart clench again, that invisible hand that appeared whenever she thought of her mother had a tight hold on her. Her fleeting and distant memories of her mother had always pained her deeply. She had never really spoken of her mother, or of the acute pain her memory wrought upon her. He was looking at her with such devotion, such sincerity she was overwhelmed by it. She felt a portion of that fortified wall cracking under the pressure of his powerful gaze that was slowly beginning to strip her bare.

She sniffed as she closed her eyes briefly, releasing a few more silent tears as she scrunched them shut. "I saw this mother there with her daughter, doing the things that mothers are supposed to do with their daughters." Her voice trembled; her lips numb as the words began to tumble out. "And it just made it all worse, somehow. I just miss her so much it still aches. But how can I miss her when I barely remember her? I cant even remember her face, or her smell or touch, let alone the sound of her laugh or her voice. I can only remember how she could sing, and even then, her singing is faded, like an old threadbare blanket. That song you played on the harp that morning…" she stopped, her chest heaving as she became breathless. "It made me realize how much I miss her. It reawakened something inside of me I thought was gone forever."

She was so wrapped up in trying to string her words together into coherent sentences she missed how Thorin tensed at the description. His eyes narrowed as he kept his eyes locked onto her face as she continued on her rant.

"I never was allowed to think about her, father never talked about her, nobody did. She was just gone, and everyone seemed to hate me for it, loathing the fact I bore her resemblance, for even daring to think in my stupid childish notion that singing would honor her memory. And when you were busy, and I was arguing with those short sighted Dwarrow's and merchants of men who only see me as this mixed, savage imposter, I just found myself aching for her. What I wouldn't give for just one moment to have her look at me like that mother did her daughter, with love and pride. To feel how much she loved me with just one look … one touch of her hand." Her voice trailed off; her throat too swollen with unshed tears that were threatening to burst out.

The silence of the night that enveloped them in the darkened courtyard engulfed them as the breeze carried off her heavy words into the inky void of the night. His thumbs had stopped rubbing her cheeks as he became still. Her heart thundered chaotically against her ribcage as the weight of her confession, of releasing words she had never dared to speak aloud, dazed her. She held her breath, suddenly scared of his reaction to her emotional words. She never lost control like this, only in his presence it seemed. It was maddening.

His one hand slid into her hair, cupping the back of her head while the other slid back down to her lower back. "Mahal Mist." He breathed; his voice thick. She looked up at him in shock. He wasn't looking at her with pity, no. It was an understanding of what loss and regret was. Of feeling lost and misunderstood. He pulled her tightly against him in a warm embrace. He cradled her as if he was trying to shield and protect her from her own demons that plagued her. She allowed herself to give in, to relax fully into his arms. She melted into him, breathing in the comforting scent that was uniquely his.

"It grieves me you were going through this alone. That you felt like you couldn't tell me." He breathed into her hair. They remained in each other's embrace for a long moment, Mistlynn soaking up the comfort of being in his arms while Thorin scoured through every fact he had painstakingly gathered about her mysterious family history and her upbringing. It pained him as he began to realize how devoid of love and comfort her childhood was, how her loneliness had bred this fierce sense of independence and stubbornness she now possessed. This is why he hated the idea of bringing up his concerns and suspicions. It would only subject her to further pain he was desperate to spare her from. The cruel reality he faced reminded him he could no longer spare her from such things.

"You are the only one I've ever spoken to about my mother...And of what happened to Argos." Her voice was muffled against the color of his jacket.

"I am honored that you have entrusted me with these things you guard so fiercely." His voice was gentle and soothing as he kissed the top of her head. He felt her meld further against his body, as if she couldn't get close enough to him. He couldn't help a weary sigh from escaping him as he tightened his arms around her, hugging her as close as possible to him before he loosened his hold and took a step back away from her.

"I hate to ask this of you right now, but I need some information regarding your family. I've been trying to do some research of my own, but as you know, very little is known of your family or your people."

Mistlynn nodded as she wiped her face dry of any lingering wetness on her cheeks. "Is this what has been keeping you so busy of late?" Her voice was back to its normal steadiness, the pain that so evident and deeply seated in her eyes was gone from his sight. It bothered him, he realized as he watched her conceal everything that had been haunting her with barely a blink of her eye.

"Remember the journal we found of my Gamul'adad's the day after we married?" He questioned softly; his eyes keen on her face as he studied her closely.

"I remember that day quite fondly, yes. Especially that particular desk." Her mouth twisted up into a teasing smirk as she gave him that particular look that normally incited his blood to heat up.

He couldn't help but huff out an amused chuckle at her sudden shift in demeanor regarding that memory. "As do I, but this is rather important so please do not distract me."

She sighed dramatically whilst rolling her eyes, her teasing smile still on her lips. "Fine. I shall endeavor to enlighten whatever it is that needs enlightenment. If its kept you busy for this long it must be important."

He stepped back into her space, his expression once again serious. "I swear it is of the utmost importance, otherwise it would not have kept me from you or our bed."

Her smile slowly left her lips as she stared at him. She nodded as she crossed her arms over chest. "Ok. I'll try to answer your questions." Her voice was quiet, reserved as she couldn't help a sense of dread that began to twist inside her. Was she ever going to escape her family and their broken past?

"Do you know a King Varric?" He chose to be straightforward, and instantly regretted his approach as he watched her eyes widen as her face lost all of its color as if she had seen a ghost appear before her.

"How do you know that name?" Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her voice steady but devoid of any emotion. Her paleness and stillness the only indication that she knew the name all too well.

"A King Varric wrote to my Gamul'adad, demanding the return of something called an 'Iklal Kurdu', and threatened to take it by force if it wasn't given freely." He studied her closely as he watched her eyes become distant as if she were caught up in some distant memory.

She swallowed thickly as her gaze came back to meet his. "King Varric was my Grandfather, my mother's father." Her tone was tense, as if the admission pained her to speak allowed. "When did he receive this correspondence? Can you be sure he wrote of my Grandfather, and did not confuse him with someone else?"

"He specifically mentioned being from the far North and had the military might to claim what was rightfully his by birthright." He shook his head gently as he refused to break his eye contact with her. "Gamul'adad may have been stricken with Dragon Sickness but he was tedious with details, especially with foreign and unknown kingdoms that could pose a threat to his kingdom and wealth. He didn't know what this 'Iklal Kurdu' was, but he grew suspicious that he may have been speaking of the Arkenstone."

Mistlynn shook her head adamantly. "No, Thorin. He was mistaken. My people have never coveted gems or riches, they serve no purpose in our way of life. There is no reason why my grandfather would betray the safety of his kingdom for the sole purpose of obtaining some gem. We never reached out to other kingdoms; we were to stay hidden."

"Then explain how my Gamul'adad learned of his name? Or of your Kingdom in the North? Unless there are other kingdoms I have yet to hear of." Her absolute unwillingness to consider any other possibility rather than a mistaken identity irked him. He sighed as he let his chin fall to his chest as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Meudial, please I ask you to keep an open mind. There is no need to get defensive with me. I am just trying to figure this out."

He looked back up at her, his eyes pleading with her. He watched her stance relax slightly, her blazing eyes softening as she took in his words. "Ok, I'm sorry. It's just … I don't remember much from my childhood. My memories are scattered and hazy at best. I barely remember my grandfather. I just know he was … strict." He watched her gaze fixate on the ground in front of her as her eyes flickered back and forth as if she were shifting through her memories as if they were pages in a book. "And busy, I rarely spent time with him. He would tell us of our history. That was important for him, for us to know how we were treated in the past, how we managed to survive." She shook her head again, her expression becoming exasperated.

"Do you know what the Iklal Kurdu is?" he pressed, once again hating that he had brought this topic of her family and the supposed testy correspondence between their families.

"No…" She began firmly, but then stopped herself mid-sentence as he watched her gaze become distant once again lost in memory. "I was young, right before Argos was born. My parents and my grandfather, they were arguing in main tent …" She bit her bottom lip, worrying it between her teeth as she began to shift from one foot to another. "They were angry, I have never heard them so angry with one another. My mother was crying. My grandfather said those words 'Iklal Kurdu', my parents said he was mistaken." He watched something flash across her eyes, something akin to fear as she stopped once again.

He stepped closer to her and placed a hand on her arm, trying to soothe her growing unease. He watched her bottom lip turn white as her teeth pressed into the skin hard. He grabbed her chin with his hand, and rubbed his thumb along where her teeth were biting. "I don't want you to distress yourself if you don't remember, Mistlynn."

She released her lip, now a bright shade of irritated red as she looked up at him. "I've stopped looking into the history books, Thorin. Nothing made sense. Everything was wrong. I was told different, we all were. I was taught to …told by my grandfather to …" Her eyes were a deep vivid shade of green, the gold flecks in their depths seemed molten like flecks of sunshine brightly peeking through rustling summer leaves of a forest canopy. Mahal it was so easy for him to let himself get lost in their radiant depths, normally they were bright with happiness or seduction when she would look at him, but now they were filled with something else that made his heart clench. Fear.

He moved his hand from her chin to her cheek as he wrapped his other arm around her waist to rest on her lower back. "You can tell me M'eudail. There is no reason for fear."

"Balin told me to tell you. Before we were married, but I couldn't bring myself to. I just wanted to move on and forget that part of me. But it keeps coming back, no matter what I do." Her voice shook with a mix of anger and trepidation.

"The night before the wedding, you told me you didn't know where to start. There was too much to tell?" He felt her shiver under his hand.

"You remember that?" he barely heard the question, she had spoken it so softly.

"Yes, Mist. I remember that night. I remember how something was weighing on you. And now I'm guessing it has to do with your family or your kingdom?" He ran his hand up her back to her shoulders, then back down slowly in a soothing gesture. "Remember when you didn't want to tell me about Argos? After speaking to Thranduil at our engagement ball?" He drew her face closer to his until their foreheads were touching. "I told you there was nothing you could ever tell me that would change how I feel about you?"

She gave a subtle nod, not trusting herself fully to speak just yet. He could feel her pulse racing under his palm, her skin flushed with so many emotions that were racing through her body unchecked. "That remains unchanged. You are my One, men andr torak."

He heard her breathing hitch as he spoke the endearment with a soft, yet fierce passion before placing a soft kiss to her forehead before he looked back down to her face. "You can tell me anything, no matter what it is, I will remain yours. Always. Nothing will ever change that."

Her breath caught in her chest as she gasped at his passionate words. She clenched her eyes shut as she fought to steady her breath. He continued to stand there, holding her firmly in his arms as he allowed her to settle into her skin, and soon her breathing had calmed. She unfolded her crossed arms slowly, in every way showing him she was letting down her protective shield. She placed a hand over his chest, allowing herself to feel the steadying beat of his heart. She returned her gaze back up to his, where he had not stopped looking upon her face as she fought her inner battle within.

"My grandfather taught us to hate all other clans. Especially the Longbeards." She began, her voice low. "We were taught that they hated us for what our ancestors, Thormor and Ilwe did, for the forbidden love they shared, and what they enabled their people to inter marry. They were traitors to their own kind, and their people were slaughtered for their treachery. We were told that we would be seen as a pestilence that needed to be eradicated if our kingdom was ever discovered. And because you are the descendants of Durin the Deathless, all the other clans would share in your hatred of us."

Mistlynn looked away from the intensity of Thorin's gaze. "That's why I left our engagement ball, I was afraid that Thranduil would see me and recognize something in me, and that your allegiance with him would be threatened because of who and what I was. I know he is one of the elder Elves here in these lands, and because of the shade of his hair he may have known Ilwe my ancestor personally, if not kin to her." She paused, taking in a deep breath as she attempted to gather her thoughts.

"Mist …" Thorin began, but she cut him off as she pulled away from him once again. She turned back to face the stone banister, to look out into the darkness of the night. "No Thorin. You do not understand. My grandfather LOATHED yours, he loathed you and your kin. He hated all clans, but he taught us to loathe you." A self-depreciating laugh escaped her as she braced herself against the banister again, her hands gripping the cold stone tightly, turning her knuckles white with the fierceness of her grip.

"Yet, I have seen nothing but love and understanding, empathy and patience from you, your kin, your people. And whatever scorn or prejudice I face is quickly dealt with by you or our friends. It's not even allowed to fester in my presence. My entire life, I was taught that we were the one's wronged, that we were above all others because we were a kingdom of mixed blood, of a sanctioned yet doomed union between a legendary Dwarrow and a Noble Elven maiden. That we were persecuted because of love."

Her words hung on the night air as she fought the anger that rose up inside her. "I was lied to. My entire kingdom was misled by the teachings of my ancestors, we believed in the hate we were taught to justify our isolation, our prejudice. One of the last memories of my mother is of her and my father fighting with my grandfather over this hatred he had for your grandfather and your people, demanding this Iklal Kurdu he claimed your ancestor stole from ours be returned. My mom died just days later, followed swiftly by grandfather who passed in his sleep as he grieved his daughter. My father was never the same, nor was Valinn. My father removed me from succession, and I was shunned by my people. I don't know what I did or why. But I threw myself into being there for Argos, and pushed myself to be the very best in my training so that my father would just give me one shred of pride or recognition. I just wanted him to see me, so I did everything he asked, believed in everything I was told without question." Her words had tumbled out fast and heated while pushed out through clenched teeth as her temper at her nativity grew. "And here I stand, realizing everything that I fought and cried and bled for, was a lie."

The silence grew thick around them, nothing but the night air whistling though the crevices of the mountain and scattered trees could be heard. Too much. Mistlynn's heart ached as it pounded in her chest. It was all too much.

She was too scared to look over her shoulder, where she had yet to hear Thorin move, let alone speak after the onslaught she just unleashed upon him. What a chaotic mess. No one needs this kind of mess.

The thoughts thundered and bounced around in her head. Soulmate or not, this was just too many lies to unravel.

Valinn's cruel words echoed in her head, for the first time in months, his scathing words dripping with disdain taunted her. 'You're a burden. Why do you even bother pretending that your anything more than a worthless failure?'

She should have told him that night before their wedding, before she entrapped him, letting him think she was anything more than what she really was. She was a liar, from a kingdom built upon even more lies.

***********************************

Thorin watched her from where he stood, shocked after hearing all that had been keeping inside. Her tone had dripped with self-loathing, as if all that had been done over the past centuries was of her doing, as if she were the one they should hold accountable and blame. A low growl escaped him as he stepped towards her, the defeat that had sunk into her shoulders as she faced away from him pushing him to his limit.

He turned her around to face him swiftly and proceeded to lift her up. She let out a startled gasp as he set her down on top of the banister, his hands gripping her waist as he stepped in-between her parted thighs. She was now eye level with him, and his eyes were aflame with a fierce determination that enraptured her. Her depreciating inner dialogue was immediately silenced and forced into submission by the intensity of his gaze, in the powerful grip of his hands that held her against him.

"I want you to listen to me and listen well. I know what it is like to try to outrun the legacy your grandfather, and father before you. We are not them. We are not accountable for their poor decisions. We accept what is done and fix what we can, that is all we can do. We are not defined by them; we are defined by who we are from the moment we take our first breath and are judged by all that we have done until we breathe our last. It has taken me so long to realize this, and I am done living in his shadow."

Thorin's hands left Mistlynns waist and gripped her face, firm yet gentle as his soulful blue crashed into her raging green and gold.

"You came to me, from across that forsaken frozen wasteland, and you brought me to life again. I was a mere shell of who I used to be, before my mother and brother breathed their last, and I was burdened by the tainted and charred legacy of my Gamul'adad. I was fighting to escape the shame, and I couldn't breathe, nor find the joy in doing so. You came bursting into my life, so beautiful and tenacious, reminding me of the simplest yet beautiful things there are to behold in this life. Whether it be a piece of freshly baked bread, the smell of fresh flowers, star gazing, or even having a pint or two of cider with your closest friends, of not being afraid to laugh and fight your way through life. You brought me that. And I am in awe of you, every waking moment of every day. You are the light that chases away my darkest of nights. And there is nothing you can ever say that will ever convince me otherwise."

Her throat felt tight as the meaning of his words washed over her, flooding her with a sense of warmth she had been terrified of losing.

"You're not alone in this, we will figure this out Mistlynn, together." He felt her body relax as her eyes began to glisten with tears she was fighting to keep contained. "It is a good thing your Adad and Nadad are still in the Northern Wastes, otherwise they would suffer my wrath." He growled through clenched teeth.

She couldn't help the breathless laugh that escaped her before she turned her face so that she could place a kiss on his palm. "Men gonnaz khuzi." She breathed against his calloused skin before wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders, anchoring her hands into his hair at the back of his head. "I love you, Kurdun."

"And I love you, men gimizhel." He nuzzled his nose against her, his smile soft before pressing his lips to hers, drawing her in to a sweet kiss. He moved one hand from her face to pull her into him closer, as if trying to chase away all of the sorrow that had been haunting her. She could feel the tension melting from her limbs as she gave in to the kiss completely. The kiss deepened as she moaned into his mouth at the feeling of his hand drifting down from her waist to the bottom of her skirts to find its way back up, tracing the line of her leg until his hand was splayed on the outside of her hip.

He chuckled darkly, the sound reverberating deeply in his chest at the sound of her arousal being stirred. "Now, what were you saying about sport and zig zagging through the woods?" He nipped playfully on her earlobe before he began to trace a heated trail of open-mouthed kisses down the column of her neck. She gasped at the sensation, baring her neck to him to grant him further access.

"There is a dam lusting after Fili, and he is not so keen on her attentions. I was planning on teaching her some manners." She explained breathlessly, her eyes fluttering closed as his kisses continued down her chest. She felt his fingers brush her hipbone before her grabbed the globe of her backside firmly in his hand. She gasped as he pulled her fully against him, so that she was leaning more against him for support as she was barely seated on the edge of the stone railing.

She felt his teeth nibble the tops of her breasts, making her curse softly under her breath at his ministrations. He never failed to make her a wantonly heaving mess in just mere moments of his assured touches and sinful lips. He could play her body like an instrument, and he knew it. Cocky bastard.

"How about some sport of our own this evening. Before we retire to our chambers?" He teased his way back up to her face, his eyes twinkling with a lustful deviousness that made her stomach clench in anticipation.

"Something tells me you're talking more than just mere 'sport'. Marathon more the like." She wiggled her hips against his hardness, eliciting a groan from him as his gaze became hooded.

"However you want to perceive it, I'll be happy to oblige you either way." He growled playfully as he brought his face closer to hers so that their hips were hovering by a mere breathe. "We can always place a wager. Make it interesting."

She drew her bottom lip in between her teeth as she pretended to weigh his suggestion. His eyes darkened at the movement, prompting a shiver of excitement that tingled through her limbs. "I'm intrigued." She fluttered her eyelashes at him. "What is it that you wager?"

His smirk became sinful as he grinned at her. "I wager that no matter the five minutes head start I give you, I will be able to hunt you down and have my filthy way with you, no matter how fast or the direction you choose to take."

Mistlynn raised her eyebrows in surprise, the thrill of being hunted by him in the dark made her heart skip. "Oh, so sure, are we? And what if you can't find me?"

He wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively. "I'm sure you can come up with something you would like to demand of me."

She couldn't help the giggle that escaped her at the prospect of winning against him. She was stealthy and quick. She hummed under breath as she ran her hands down his chest, her touch light and teasing. "If I manage to make it back to our rooms uncaptured, you will owe me a night outside of this kingdom, where you will wine, dine and make love to me under the stars."

"Doesn't seem much like a wager to me, I emerge the winner in either outcome." He chuckled.

"As do I. You, having your filthy way with me after a good chase isn't exactly a punishment."

"Punishment comes later." His voice deepened, rolling through his chest like thunder as he pinned her with a look that promised her a sleepless night.

She giggled as her excitement grew. "You promise?"

His grip on her tightened as his eyes became molten, slivers of icy flame shining brightly against the dark pools of his pupils. "Mahal, preserve me. Men smiddag menu zaki." His words rumbled even lower, the hunger for her obvious in his tone and ravenous gaze.

She leaned forward so that her lips brushed the shell of his ear, teasing and feather light. "No peeking, for five minutes. "

"Make sure you zig zag, M'eudail. Give me some sport before I claim you." He breathed hotly on the side of her neck as he released her from his grip.

She giggled as she slid off the railing, rubbing her front fully against his, earning from her another lowly growl. The moment her fingertips left his arm she heard him chuckle. "Countdown starts now."

She turned promptly on her heel as she gathered her skirts into her hands and dashed towards the farthest exit. Her heart was pounding in her ears as she flew down the corridors, weaving in and out the darkened halls.

She saw the massive doors that led to the Hall of Kings were cracked open and darted into them. Her footfalls echoed in the massive room, the golden floors glowing in the faint torchlight that hung from the massive columns throughout the room. She skidded to a stop and quickly kicked off her flats.

Gripping them tightly in her hands she ran towards the darkest point of the room and hid behind on of the columns. She had estimated that five minutes had already passed, so she stopped to listen. The only thing she could hear other than the deafening silence was the wild beating of her heart.

She grinned triumphantly to herself as she proceeded to dash from column to column and towards the other door that would lead the way up to the royal quarters.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of the massive doors being shut. The mechanism clicking into place echoed throughout the room. She stopped mid step and quickly pressed her back against the column closest to her. She held her breath as she gripped her shoes tightly. Nothing but deafening silence greeted her. Her eyes slid towards her intended exit, knowing she had to now find an alternative route.

Her eyes scanned the darkened room, and hidden in the shadows, she saw another arched corridor. She shifted her balance and crouched low. She peered around her hiding spot to see the room was empty, but the doors she had entered through were shut. She couldn't help the thrilled shudder that pulsed through her. Shadows cast from the torchlight danced along the golden floor and crept up the columns surrounding her, disguising both her and her stalker's shadows as well.

She smiled coyly. If she was struggling to see him, he certainly was struggling to find her as well. She began to weave, her bare feet silently skimming over the cold golden floor. With each passing minute, she drew closer and closer to the corridor.

The statues of Thorin's ancestors were now aligned in between the massive columns. She cursed silently to herself as she paused. They were so realistic; the darkness and shadow casting torch light gave them a whole new life that made her doubt her own eyes. She studied them with a critical eye, her own breathing shallow before she slipped in between their bases with feline like stealth.

The corridor was within running distance, and she could taste the victory on her tongue as she smiled gleefully. After another pause, she slipped away from the last column and glided silently towards her escape. At that moment, just as she was about to slip under the arched frame of the corridor, she saw a shadow from the statue of Thror I shift soundlessly, blacker than any shadow as it moved swiftly towards her.

She dashed to her left, a gasp escaping her lips as she ran towards the other exit. She slid behind a column and fought to steady her racing heart. Mahal, that was close! He had nearly captured her. That was a dirty trick, lying in wait against statues that shared his features. Clever brute. She could help but smirk fondly at that thought.

She strained to decipher any sound that would betray movement of any kind but was met again with complete silence. Her mind raced as she weighed her options. He was in this room yet had not given away his position after that close call. She stared at the exit door again, it was either that or head back towards the way she came. She frowned; he had shut the door when he had entered. That would be a waste of precious time if she tried to open those massive doors, if not give away her position at the sound she knew they would make. She couldn't let him herd her in the direction he wanted her to go. She had to do the unexpected.

She slid down the column into a crouch and carefully laid down one of her flats, so that the toe of the shoe was barely peeking out from the curve of the column. She clutched the remaining shoe tightly in her fist as she picked up her skirts with the other and turned to look in the opposite direction. She slinked to the other side of the room, skirting around the dancing flickers of torch flame that skimmed the floor like hazy fireflies.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she made it across the vast hall and was again concealed.

Before she could enact her next move, an amused chuckle echoed around her, the vastness of the room concealing his true location. "Bran Yasith." A deep voice rumbled, almost a purr of praise that she couldn't help but shiver at the sound of. Clever wife. He had obviously been misled by her careful placement of her discarded flat, and he was applauding her for it. She grinned. Mahal, why had they not done this sooner?

She pushed herself up slowly from her crouch, her back fully against the cool marble of the column. She turned slowly so that her front was pressed firmly against her hiding spot so that she could peer across the immense hall. She saw nothing move in the shadows. She fought to keep her heart from pounding out of her chest from the thrill of being hunted. She rubbed her thighs together, trying to ease the throbbing that was steadily growing in intensity. She had to get out this hall, where they were playing this enthralling game of cat and mouse.

She turned back against the column to survey her new options. Her gaze fell on the staircase that led up towards the balcony of the massive hall. She could cross the top towards the royal quarters that way, albeit it was a longer route. But it would be better than this room of shadows, where she was sure he was fully enjoying toying with her.

Her mind made up, she kept to the shadows of the columns and slowly made her way towards the staircase. If she could manage to sneak up the first flight of steps, she would be allowed to shield herself with the curved stone that enclosed the rest of the stairway.

Her breath quickened as she drew closer to the staircase, mere steps away from escaping the Hall of Kings. With one last look at her surroundings, she launched herself away from the last column and dashed towards the stairway.

She felt strong arms envelop her waist from behind her, effortlessly picking her up and sweeping her off her feet. She couldn't help the startled squeal that escaped her lips as she was pulled back further into the shadows. A velvety chuckle tickled her ear as she her chest was firmly pressed against a column. Her wrists were captured and held together with one strong hand pinning them in place above her head. The flat dropped to the floor with a thud as her fingers relaxed their hold. Her captors other hand slid down her body to stop at the curve of her hip, granting him firm purchase as he pressed his muscular body against her back. "I almost lost you there." Thorin chuckled in amusement as he brought his lips down next to her jaw so that he could nuzzle her pulse point.

She groaned softly as he breathed her in deeply. "You have me at a distinct disadvantage. I'm not the one who has been prowling these halls since he was a dwarfling."

"I had to reacquaint myself after a hundred-year absence, don't be sore that I caught you."

Mistlynn rolled her eyes, "It's no matter, you still hold the advantage. And I don't like losing."

She was spun quickly around to face him. His grip on her wrists tightened as he pinned her against the column with his hips. She could feel the hardness of his arousal through her silk skirts as he rocked his hips just above that place between her legs that made her entire body shiver. "Did we not agree that this would be to your advantage as well when I caught you?"

His eyes flashed brightly in the shadows as he smirked down at her, his dark features all the more striking in the shadows and golden flame that danced about the room. His eyes were glowing in delight, making him appear younger as he savored her being so pliant in his embrace.

"Did I tell you how much I adore you in this dress?" His voice became gravelly as he made quick work of pushing up the light layers of the skirt, exposing the porcelain skin of her legs to the slight chill of the autumn air that was seeping into Erebor with each passing day. "Otherwise, this would be way more difficult." His hand skimmed lightly over her skin before he grasped her by the back of the knee.

She hummed appreciatively at his heated touch as she allowed him to pull her leg up so that she could wrap it around his waist. "Fortunate for you I had to dress nice for Rosy's appointment, otherwise I would have worn my leathers." She tightened her leg around him, pulling him even tighter against her. "I like making you work for it." Her voice dipped low and heady. hH

Thorin's smirk grew lecherous. "Good thing I caught you then. I have my prize to claim."

Her chest heaved as her stomach began to flutter as he devoured her form with his ocean eyes. He let go of her wrists and quickly dropped to his knees and placed her lifted leg over his shoulder.

Her eyes widened in surprise at his sudden and bold change in position. "Thorin!" She panted, trying to make her voice strong and scolding as he pushed her skirt fully to the side. "We are in a public place! Anyone could walk in or hear us!"

He chuckled darkly as he ripped through her underthings and let them flutter to the floor. Her heart lodged in her throat as he pushed her supporting leg open more with a strong hand as he hummed, seemingly thinking over her feeble protest.

She whimpered as she felt the cold air brush over her exposed core, the sensation making her nerves set ablaze in the delicious torture of anticipation.

"Better keep your voice down then." He growled before his mouth descended upon her sensitive mound. Her back arched as a soft cry escaped her lips.

***********************************************

Men andr torak - My Soulmate

Men gonnaz khuzi - My powerful Warrior

Men gimizhel- My wild of wilds

Men smiddag menu zaki - You make me crazy

"Bran Yasith - Clever wife

Chapter Text

*Thorin*

That next morning, after their amorous tryst in the Hall of Kings, he had walked into his office and was met with a room full people. He paused as he opened the door, looking at them all with a long-suffering glance before stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him.

Dis, Bilbo and Balin were sitting by the fireplace while Fili and Kili were standing by the mantle. Gloin, Dwalin, stood by his desk, their arms crossed as they surveyed the room before them, while Nori was looking at the notes that Ori was showing him, his voice hushed in a whisper as he pointed out certain things to his brother. Every hushed conversation and movement ceased at his arrival.

“Dare I ask who passed in the night?” Thorin couldn’t help but huff out a chuckle as he walked towards his desk.

“Bets were placed that your body was never going to be found.” Dis exhaled. “Looks like I lost this one, boys.”

“In all seriousness, what are you all doing here?” Thorin shot his sister an unamused look before he looked pointedly at the others.

Balin sighed as he stood from his chair before looking over at Nori pointedly. “Would you like to tell him? Or should I?”

“Earlier this week, I lost contact with one of my Dwarrow’s who was scouting our northern most mining towns that outskirt the Withered Heath, for any word of strange dwarves that may be venturing in from the Northern Wastes, per your order. I sent my best to locate him and see why he missed his last check in.” Nori’s face was grim. “They came back just a half hour ago. I summoned everyone here that knows about our current investigation into the White Kingdom.”

Thorin rested against the desk as everyone became still. He nodded, encouraging Nori to continue.

“They reached Outpost #5. They saw the smoke from within its walls from the distance…” Dis stood abruptly from her seat, her face pale while everyone exchanged worried looks with one another.
“No guards were at the walls. The gates were broken off their hinges. The buildings were burned to the ground, bodies everywhere. From what they could see there were no survivors.” Gasps and outraged grumblings filled the room.

Thorin’s eyes flashed as his jaw clenched in anger before he shot Dwalin a look. “Prepare your best and ride out. There were families in that camp, we must be certain there are no survivors, and we must honor the fallen.”

Dwalin nodded, his eyes agleam with vengeance. “It will be done.”

“Uncle, let me accompany Dwalin. One of our family should be present in case there are survivors.” Fili stepped forward; his face set with determination.

Thorin nodded stoically. “Very well.”

“We should alert the council.” Balin spoke gravely. “Especially if we now have bands of Orcs attacking our Mining outposts.”

“That’s the thing.” Nori interrupted them. “My men were adamant it wasn’t an Orc raid. It was too methodical. Weapons and supplies appeared to be raided, as where clothes. Many of the soldiers armor was stripped from their bodies. There were no Orc prints either.”

Dwalin growled furiously. “Who would be so bold as to attack one of our outposts?”

“Gather what you can and report back quickly after you have buried the dead.” Thorin spoke lowly. “Keep this quiet until we know more.”

Dwalin and Fili swept out of the room quickly. No one spoke until they heard the sound of the door clicking shut.

“Did you manage to ask Mistlynn about what she knew about Varric? Or the Iklal Kurdu?” Balin asked as everyone stood in a semi-circle around Thorin.

Thorin sighed. He hadn’t been expecting Mistlynn’s reaction to his questions to be so deeply entrenched within the emotional trials of her childhood. The importance of the Iklal Kurdu to her people was not known to her, and the mention of the Arkenstone again didn’t even garner a second thought from her either. It was apparent that her adad had kept her in the dark purposefully, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing as of yet.
“I did. King Varric was, in fact, her Gamul’adad. And she knew nothing about the Iklal Kurdu, expect that her parents and Gamul’adad fought about it right before her Amad’s death.”

The silence grew heavy in the room. “Do you think this is Mist’s Kingdom that is attacking us?” Kili’s voice was barely above a whisper, yet it cut through unspoken dread in the air like a knife. “Her Gamul’adad threatened ours, maybe her Adad is following through with the threat?”

“No. I don’t think so. She said her parents were against Varric demanding the Iklal Kurdu.” Thorin shook his head. “She told me they were taught from a young age to hate all other dwarf clans, but that her Adad was strict on interacting with the outside world. I don’t want to jump to conclusions just yet. It doesn’t make sense for him to go against that teaching now.”

“It is strange that they would strip Dwarven armor. Or am I mistaken?” Bilbo, who had been silent through the entire exchange, finally spoke up.

“I’ve never heard of Orcs doing it, that’s for certain.” Balin gave Thorin a pointed look. “It would make sense if the raiders were dwarves. It would take a hot dwarven forge to melt that armor to make anything of use. No other race can withstand the heat of it otherwise.”

“So, it would have to be dwarves, who would strip Dwarven armor from the fallen?” Bilbo asked.

Gloin cleared his throat. “Not necessarily. It could fetch a good price to the right buyer in the black markets, dwarven armor is made custom to its wielder, but it is not unheard of for parted out pieces to enhance other suits of armor if they happen to fit.”

“That’s a huge gamble to attack an Outpost clear out in the Withered Heath. It wouldn’t be worth it for just the armor alone.” Nori grumbled. “From their brief sweep of the area, the iron ore was untouched. Just the armor, weapons and provisions were taken.”

“Durin’s beard.” Dis tone was icy with a rage. “All those innocents, dams and their babies, their lives taken for what? Used armor and weapons?”

“We will find out who did this, and they will pay.” Thorin seethed through a clenched jaw. “In the meantime, Nori, I want you to double the presence of your scouts, for them to keep their ears to the ground, and their eyes on the markets.”

Nori nodded briskly. “It shall be done. I will debrief them after this.”

“The council is going to love this.” Dis deadpanned. “What are you going to tell Mistlynn?”

“She’s very defensive, adamant that our Gamul’adad must have been mistaken.” Thorin’s frustration seeped out of his words. “I don’t think it would be wise to overwhelm her with all of this, especially with everything she is working through.”

Bilbo huffed. “She won’t like that you’re keeping your suspicions from her, If she were ever to find out. In light of everything else that we have found, or of the dreams you are having…”

“She can’t know of that.” Thorin growled exasperatedly, “Especially not now. We don’t even know if they hold any merit.”

“The vaults where the Arkenstone is kept is getting steadily colder.” Gloin added, his words making everyone’s back in the room stiff. “This can’t all be coincidence.”

“Dreams of Frerin and Vili warning you cannot be dismissed.” Dis’s voice dropped as her voice shook with a fierceness Thorin knew all too well. “I refuse to believe they would lead you astray, they didn’t in this life why would they in the next?”

“Smaug was in my dream as well. What do you suppose his manifestation represented if he was warning me of someone who is supposed to be claiming what is his?”

Bilbo shifted on his feet uncomfortably as he slipped the fingers of his right hand into his vest pocket, a nervous tick Thorin had begun to notice since before Erebor was claimed. Bilbo’s uncharacteristic shift drew his attention away for a brief second.

Odd.

Bilbo met Thorin’s gaze and pressed his lips into a thin line before looking down at his feet and shaking his head. Bilbo didn’t like him keeping secrets from Mistlynn, funny enough when he seemed to have so many of his own. Thorin sighed as he drew his gaze away, back towards those who still stood before him.

‘Who knows who he was speaking of. It isn’t as if there is a shortage of power-hungry Lords who are trying to make their mark in this world now that an ancient evil has been awakened. We must be vigilant, no matter who it is.” Balin made his point firmly. “I am preparing inquiries for Lord Elrond to look into, his library is one of the few that may contain the information we seek regarding ancient stones of power. Whether it has to do with your dreams or not, the Arkenstone is becoming a problem we may not be equipped to handle. We have exhausted all other resources here and at Mirkwood.”

Thorin nodded in agreement with Balin’s heavy words. Everyone grew silent, except for Ori’s continuous scribblings as he finished up his notes of the meeting.

“It can’t all be coincidence, everything that is happening, it must all fit together somehow.” Kili rubbed the back of his neck as he looked between his mother, Thorin and Balin. “So much has happened just in the past few years, and that catalyst was when Gandalf told you about Erebor needing to be reclaimed and that Smaug had to be slain. Since that meeting with the other Dwarf Lords everything has just continued to get worse.” The younger Durin’s throat bobbed as he looked at his Uncle pointedly. “Mistlynn is your One, what if this was all supposed to happen so that we could figure out what the Arkenstone truly is? And why her kingdom has been hiding all this time?”

“Tensions are high between all the kingdoms of Arda, that is for certain.” Balin nodded towards Kili, “We are lucky that we have managed to obtain the allies we have. We have a good chance to get ahead of this, to weather whatever storm Is headed our way.”

Thorin hummed in agreement as he crossed his arms across his chest as he stared off into flames of the fireplace, sorting through all the things he had learned the past couple weeks. Kili was right, there was no way this was all coincidence. It had to fit together somehow, and the more he learned the more he began to realize Mistlynn was an important piece to that puzzle, along with that accursed stone.

“Keep an eye on the Arkenstone and keep me informed of any further changes. Until we know about these attacks, we have to assume the worst and start preparing for the likelihood of war, and that it somehow pertains to the Arkenstone … and possibly Mistlynn.” He tried to keep his true emotions out of the words he spoke with a firmness befitting a King. But he could feel the icy fear coiling inside him like a serpent. He had to keep her safe, keep his people safe, but he dreaded to learn what it was going to cost him when the time came. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that cost was quickly approaching and that nothing could truly prepare him for it.

****************

2 months later …

Mistlynn

She was warm.

Yet snow surrounded her.

She blinked as she turned her head, her movements sluggish as if trying to wade through some invisible body of water surrounding her. She took a step forward, and she heard the faint, yet distinct crunch of snow under her foot.

She looked down, surprised to see herself barefoot, yet she felt nothing as the snow cushioned her step. Billowing skirts of white silk whipped about her body as the wind snaked around her. Downy flakes of snow blew across her, catching in her eyelashes and hair as she stood there, confused. She looked back up and turned, her movements still slow despite urging herself to move faster.

She was in a massive field of white, not unlike the tundra she grew up seeing in the White Kingdom. She stopped once she saw a line of dark blue ahead, behind massive hills of swelling snowdrifts. The ocean lay ahead of her, stretched as far as she could see on the distant horizon. A hint of salt and the sharpness of seaweed hit her on a sudden gust that whipped her loose curls to flow behind her. She took a step forward, then another.
The sound of crashing waves grew louder as she made her way through the frozen waves of snow before her. The giant drifts grew closer with each step, faster than what should be possible. It was odd, how time seemed to speed up yet slow at the same time. Soon, intertwined with the crashing waves on the shoreline, she heard a voice carried upon the salty body of the wind.

Her stomach twisted.

She knew that voice.

Amad.

Her breath stuttered in her chest as she urged herself to walk faster. The voice was devastatingly beautiful, each note that was carried towards her pricked her heart as its familiarity settled deep within her. Distant memory shrouded with by such heavy pain and sorrow was yanked up from the deepest parts of her with a desperation that made her tremble, despite the warmth that seemed to encase her like a blanket.

She drew closer, walking in between two of the biggest snow drifts that were like a gateway that led to the black sands of the Northern beach, glinting like shards of the darkest onyx against the bright pure blanket of snow. The roaring waves curled and crashed before her, rushing up the shoreline with glistening tendrils of foam, salt and sea.

Grey clouds swelled and churned above her, hiding the sun behind their swollen bodies as snow cascaded down with a heavy silence.

Another haunting note was carried down to swirl around her, as teasing as the snowflakes that continued to tickle her skin.

Waves are crashing
Sing your song

Under the tide, you belong…

She turned quickly towards the voice, the lyrics stirring within her in its own mimic of a wintry blizzard

Quiet the crashing that fills your
mind
Sing to the stone that turns men
blind

Waves are crashing
Sing your song

There, just mere steps away, a dam stood in the crashing surf up to her petite waist. Her silvery white hair flowed behind her, whipping in the breeze that carried the song to her.

‘Amad?” she croaked as she raised her arm up slowly as it shook with waves of grief and longing just as powerful as the current of the sea that roared before her. The figure stopped her melancholy song, so that only the sound of the wind and churning sea could be heard.

She felt the breath stutter and catch in her chest as she stumbled forward, arm still raised as If pleading with the figure before her to turn and face her. The cresting wave raced up the shore to meet her as she stepped into the surf, closer to the figure of the female that shared the same curls that danced in the breeze.
She waded into the sea, closer towards the back of who she knew was her mother.

‘Amad, please.” She choked, her fingers aching to reach towards her. No matter how far she waded, her mother seemed to drift further away, the blackish waves rising higher as if eager to devour her.

What you piece together
Men will tear apart

Waves are crashing
Sing your song

“Amad! Please, please don’t leave me!” Her chest burned as the scream tore from her lips as she tried to reach for her mother, who was now up to her neck in the water. The melody lingered around her, almost too loud in its final note as she fought against the waves that seemed to be pushing her away.

“You cannot follow me, my heart.”

She gasped as pain lanced through her as her mother's head disappeared under the waves. “No! Amad, please! I need you!”

“You need to remember who you are.” Her mother’s soothing voice lingered around her. “Do not be afraid, let your song free.”

“I-I can’t.” She coughed as salty waves poured into her open mouth; her arms still outstretched to where she watched her mother disappear.

“You must. Or they will all be lost.”

The waves surged around her, and she felt a heavy presence around her feet, stopping her from walking further. She no longer felt the shifting sand beneath her, rather a void opened up into a black chasm as the watched began to bubble around her. She kicked her feet desperately, panic setting in as she felt herself sinking as the void began to pull down. She gasped and choked as the sea around her began to surge and overtake her.

“Help! Amad!” she screamed, her throat burning with the salt as it poured down her throat, cutting off her scream as she was submerged, bubbles erupting from her still open mouth. Icy claws grappled at her legs, pulling her further down into the darkness as the faint grey light danced above her in dull, shattered prisms.

The warmth that seemed to be shielding her was gone, and in its wake an overwhelming cold seeped into her, making her limbs heavy as ice seemed to swarm and sting her on every inch of skin. She opened her mouth to scream again, but nothing came out. Nothing but a deafening silence that pitched high and heavy into her throbbing ears.

She felt strong hands grip her waist from behind, and she began to kick with a renewed strength as she scrambled to grasp onto anything that would help her break to the surface.

“Mistlynn!”

Her name was being called, as if it was being screamed from the distant shore she was struggling to reach. She fought harder as her lungs screamed desperately for air, the water around her grew thick as molasses as her the stinging in her flailing limbs grew in intensity.

No! She couldn’t die like this!

The coldness enveloping her grew icy hot, and the hands gripping her became bruising as the intensity of their strength dug into her flesh. She tried to scream again as she threw her head back. Her throat was raw, the taste of metal heavy in her mouth as she flailed.

‘Mistlynn! Wake up! It’s a dream!”

A dream?

“It’s okay, it’s just a dream. Open your eyes.”

The voices were growing louder, as if growing closer. She felt as if she was being dragged through the water, the hands gripping her unyielding in their strength.

“That’s it, open your eyes M’eudail. I’ve got you.”

Thorin?

“Kili, fetch Oin now!”

Her ears began to ring with an earsplitting pitch as her stomach dropped, her limbs becoming suddenly heavy as if her bones were made of iron ore. A shiver wracked her body as her eyes flew open, her lungs heavy and burning as she gasped greedily for air. She was looking up at a stone ceiling, faint golden light flickering shadows across the arches.
She felt a hand cup the side of her face, a thumb gently caressing her cheekbone as warmth enveloped her.

Mahal, her chest hurt.

She allowed her eyes to shut as she heard multiple sighs of relief fill the silence around her. Her heart thudded loud and violent in her ribcage. She swallowed thickly, the metallic taste still lingering on her tongue.

“That’s it. Breathe M’eudail. You're safe.”

“Thorin?” she croaked.

She then realized that the warmth surrounding her were her husband’s arms and chest as he cradled her to him. Sounds rushed her ears in an abrupt wave of consciousness.

“W-what happened?” she fought the rawness of her throat as she forced out the words.

“Here, I got her some water.” She heard Fili’s concerned voice somewhere close.

“She will need some Chamomile. I will go make her a pot.” Dori’s voice somewhere to the left of her.

“And lavender oil! Gimli, please go fetch it from my cabinet in my room.” Gemlinn’s voice was slightly strained as she huffed, as if she had been running.

Gods. Who was all in the room?

“Here, let’s try to get her to take a sip. Her throat is undoubtedly sore.” Dis’s voice soothed right beside her.

She opened her eyes slowly as she felt Thorin tilt her upright before a cup was placed gently against her lips. Cool, sweet water filled her mouth, and she began to drink greedily, eager to soothe the ache and wash away the taste of metal on her tongue. She felt Thorin’s chest shudder as he let out a breath of relief.

“Thank Mahal.” She heard him breathe out shakily as she raised a hand to grasp onto the cup. She felt the warmth of Dis’s fingers against hers, and she felt like sobbing in relief. It must have been a terrible nightmare, bad enough for Thorin to call everyone into their bedchambers.
She felt a rush of embarrassment as her face flushed red and hot. She shuddered at the contrast as she shivered again, the cold biting her exposed arm and legs.

She opened her eyes to see Thorin and Dis looking at her with fear and concern in their eyes. She swallowed again as she felt her stomach sink in dread. She glanced over Dis’s head and saw Fili, Bilbo, Dwalin and Bifur standing behind her, their faces tight with worry.
She felt her brow furrow as she frowned. She looked over Thorin’s head and saw Gloin, Bofur, Nori, Balin and Ori standing vigil over her with the same look etched in their faces.

Gemlinn quickly approached with a blanket in her hands before she crouched at her feet and laid the blanket over her bare legs.

“She’s having a bad case of the cold sweats. We don’t want her catching a chill.” She fussed as she tucked the blanket around her legs. She than realized she wasn’t in her bed, rather she was laying on the floor on a plush carpet, in the main common room of the royal suites. She blinked rapidly as she looked back up at Thorin as the horror of the situation settled heavy in her gut.

“Why are we not in our room?” She whispered, unable to hide the incredulous embarrassment from her shaking voice.

She felt Thorin’s grip on her tighten. “You were sleepwalking.” His voice was low and gravelly. “I woke up to you screaming. Bifur found you wandering down the halls. He stopped you in here, when you tried opening the main doors.”

She shot her gaze towards Bifur, who nodded towards her, a gentle yet sympathetic smile on his lips.

“I-I am so sorry.” She stuttered as she fought to keep her eyes from filling with mixed tears of embarrassment and frustration. “Did I wake all of you?”

They all exchanged looks before nodding.

“Ye were fight’n Bifur, so I ‘ad ta stepp’n and help’m stop ye.” Dwalin rubbed the back of his neck as he looked off to the side, not willing to make eye contact with her.

Mistlynn couldn’t help but bite her lip as she felt her face turn a bright shade of red.

‘No need to be embarrassed, my dear.” Balin was the first to comfort her, his tone soothing. “There has been a lot going on. A lot of stress. We have all had night terrors. Haven’t we?”

She felt Dis rub her arm comfortingly as she took the empty cup from her aching fingers.

“Aye. I caught Bombur once sleep walkin to the kitchen. He had managed to get a butcher knife and was swingin it around all fierce like. He was dreamin about those trolls that nearly roasted us.” Bofur chortled in amusement. He didn’t even have his hat on, and his hair was sticking haphazardly on top of his head as if desperate to escape his warrior braids. “He nearly chopped off Nori’s beard and nearly scalped poor Dori. Durin’s beard! Do you all remember that?”

Quiet chuckles filled the room as everyone began to add in their similar stories to nightmares in attempt to put her at ease. Mistlynn let out a shaky sigh as she leaned further into Thorin's embrace, lifting a still heavy and trembling hand up to grasp the deep v neck of his night shirt.

She heard pounding footsteps drawing close before Kili ran into the room, breathing heavily as Oin followed closely behind him. Seeing her awake and cradled in Thorin’s arms, Kili let out a big sigh of relief, the fear in his honey eyes melting out almost instantly.

“Thank the maker.” He gave her a winning smile as he approached to stand beside his mother, who stood up to let Oin kneel beside Mistlynn.

“I am so sorry, Oin. But I am ok. Really.” She couldn’t keep the pleading out of her voice as he opened his bag before reaching for the hand that was still gripping Thorin’s shirt.

“Let him check you, just to be sure Mist.” Thorin’s voice rumbled deep in his chest, against the side of her head as she turned her face towards him.

“I am fine. I just want to go back to bed.” She insisted, her voice stronger as she forced herself upright. “I am so sorry that I woke all of you.”

“Do ye sleepwalk often lass?” Oin asked, as he attempted to look over her.

Her body shook as she shivered, her nightgown still drenched in her sweat that made it cling to her skin. “N-no. Never.” She murmured; her tone distant as she looked down at her hands that were still slightly shaking. “I was just dreaming of my Amad. I was trying to reach her in my dream.”

Thorin rubbed her bare arms with his hands, in an attempt to both comfort and warm her. He shot his sister a look over Mistlynns head, his eyes darkening with worry and fear of the unknown.

Bilbo cleared his throat, an uncomfortable sound as he seemed to have a silent conversation with his comrades. Mistlynn was too preoccupied with sorting the scattered details of her dream, she didn’t catch the looks that passed between everyone at the mention of her mother.

Dori rambled in quickly, balancing a tray with a steaming pot, tea bags and a jar of honey. “Sorry for the delay.” He huffed. “This will do the trick though. My own special blend. Chamomile and lavender. With a hint of honey. That should do the trick, my dear.”

“I’ll help bring the tea to her room. Thank you, Dori.” Dis took the cup of tea once Dori had finished preparing it. Thorin wrapped the blanket around Mistlynns shoulders before he helped her stand. Mistlynn sighed as she felt Thorin’s arm wrap around her and lead her from the room, with Dis following close behind with the hot tea in hand.

The room was buzzing with their friends hushed voices as they talked amongst themselves of what had happened. Mistlynn could hear their whispers of concern, and her ears burned hot as her mortification grew. Thorin and Dis had yet to speak to her, but from how Thorin was holding her in his protective grip, she knew his mind was racing.
She could feel that ferocity spark against her as his energy seeped into her from where their skin touched. She despised the vulnerability she was feeling in that moment. She wasn’t this weak, needing to lean upon him just because she had a nightmare.

“I am ok Thorin. Truly.” She muttered as she wrapped the blanket tighter around herself.

Thorin grunted in response, his grip unyielding as they continued to walk.

“You were screaming for your Amad.” Dis spoke gently. “Was it a memory?”

Mistlynn shook her head vehemently. “No. Not a memory. Just a dream.” She knew it sounded like she was trying to convince herself more of that fact than Dis and Thorin, but they didn’t press her further.

They reached their quarters finally, Thorin stepping forward to pull the door open for her. He guided her in with his hand on the small of her back. Dis stopped at the threshold, her eyes gleaming with sympathy and worry as she held out the still steaming cup of tea. “Here. This should help you fall back asleep. Let me know if you need anything, both of you.”

“Thank you, Dis.” Thorin's voice was rough as he took the cup from her hand. “We will see you in the morning.”

Dis nodded, crossing her arms over her chest before walking back towards her quarters. Thorin shut the door, the lock echoing loudly in the room, louder than Mistlynn remembered it being before. He then stepped closer, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead before he held up the cup of tea for her to take.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” his deep, gentle voice eased over her frazzled nerves like a balm and the unease within her subsided.

She nodded as she sighed wearily. “I am more embarrassed than anything, Kurdun.” She took the mug and took a generous sip, humming as the sweet herbal tea soothed her sore throat.

“Don’t be.” He was attempting to mollify her with his soothing words and soft touch as he rubbed her back. It was working.

She downed the rest of her tea quickly before placing the mug on the side table in their main sitting room. “Let us retire. I am exhausted.”

She allowed him to lead her to their bed without further words spoken between them. Once they had slid under the blankets, he drew her close to his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. She settled into his warmth, yet her mind refused to quieten. She could tell by his breathing that he was far from sleeping himself, his thumb caressing her shoulder as the silence of the room enveloped them.
So many things were left unspoken between them, and it pained her that she couldn’t bring herself to tell him of the dream, of how her Amad drowned in the sea without a fight, the words of her song listlessly floating in her mind without purpose or understanding.

She could still faintly hear the haunting melody of her mother's voice, and she couldn’t help the shudder that passed through her without warning. She felt Thorin’s grip on her tighten immediately as a hum rumbled in his chest. “It’s alright, M’eudail. You are safe. Sleep.” His warm puffs of breath ticked the shell of her ear before he placed a comforting kiss on her neck.
She nodded stiffly as she willed her body to loosen in his arms, pushing her Amad’s voice back into the dark crevices of her better forgotten memories. She gave into the safety and warmth of him, and she allowed her eyes to close.

“I love you, Thorin.” She sighed softly, and she felt herself finally drift off into sleep as she barely registered the tenderness of his reply as he whispered his returned love into the silken curls of her hair.

Chapter Text

Chapter 20

6 months later… Late Spring

She cursed under her breath as she pricked her fingertip with the needle… once again. She sucked it in-between her lips with a faint hiss. It wasn’t a small needle prick either; the needle was larger and hollow as she attempted to sow the leather plates of the bracers together. She sat them down on the top of her worktable in frustration.

The warm rays of the spring sun seeped in through the carved windows of stone and glass, the strategically placed mirrors glowing bright like miniature suns turned the air around them warm, chasing away the chill of winter from the depths of Erebor’s stone walls. She sighed as she leaned back into one of those heated slices of fractured sun, relishing the feel of the heat on her face.

Bilbo had just left a week prior, after spending the winter with them in Erebor. Dwalin and Rosalyn had been married under the starry night sky of the darkest day of winter, the hoar frost trees glistening as if inlaid with the finest of diamonds under the glow of the bloodless moon. It had been a small, intimate affair of their closest friends and family, and it only added the enchanted feeling of the beautiful evening.

Bofur and Ralia’s wedding had taken place earlier that spring, another small event that was none the less joyous as the royal garden had been filled with the brightest blooms of spring blossoms in every shape and color. Bilbo had taken immense pride and satisfaction helping Ralia painstakingly maintain her garden over the winter.
It had been no small feat, but they had managed to recreate the perfect temperature and humidity with constant steam from the woodstoves and captured sunlight from the mirrors. Thorin had taken a special interest in the uses of mirrors to enlighten further the darkened corridors and rooms of Erebor, and was especially keen in creating a large city center garden that would make the dwarven city more self-efficient when it came to supplying their own fruits and vegetables. And who better to instruct them than a hobbit with a very formidable green thumb?

She missed Bilbo. Fiercely. They had grown close over the winter months, and now that Rosalyn was married as well, finding time to spend time together had become harder. She missed her friend, but she was content in knowing she was finally happy with Dwalin, and they were finally beginning their lives together. She had never seen the surly Captain so content in all the time she had known him. He was still quiet and took his duty seriously, yet he now had a softness in his eyes, and a faint smile was always lingering in the corners of his mouth, especially when Rosalyn was in the room.

There remained a serious air, however, that she was not privy too. She wasn’t obtuse. She knew something was happening and she was purposefully being kept in the dark. It should have angered her more, she knew, but a part of her didn’t want to know what was lingering out there past the walls of Erebor. She had come to savor the safety she felt, and the stability of her day-to-day task grounded her and gave her purpose she never had before.

She had taken her place at Thorin’s side and took her role by both hands and led with that tenacious fire Thorin worshipped her for. The peace that had settled within her was precious, and she wanted to keep it desperately. She told herself repeatedly that she trusted Thorin, and that he would let her know if it became necessary. It was a big leap of trust for her, but she was beginning to reach that point where she felt like she could give in completely with him, and just…be. She was standing at the precipice of that feeling, of giving in to him completely. It was terrifying, and she loved that she still had that desire to let go of it all despite the fear that lingered like a stubborn mist in her subconscious, blurring the borders of everything just faint enough to keep her slightly on edge…. just in case.

Mistlynn nearly jumped out of her chair as the door to her workroom burst open without any warning, disrupting her thoughts.

Dis flew in with a flurry of sweeping skirts. “Mistlynn. Something has happened. Thorin is asking for you to join us in the Throne Room.”

Mistlynn stood quickly from her bench, her eyebrows raised in concern. Dis coming to get her by Thorin’s orders was very odd. She looked down at her work clothes, and as if reading her mind Dis approached her quickly and grabbed her hands and began to pull her to the door. “Don’t worry about that, there is no time. The survivors are being gathered in the Throne Room this very minute.”

“Survivors? Dis…”

“Do you remember those small mining camps that were being raided and burned in the Grey Mountains, always attacked in the middle of the night?”

Mistlynn nodded as she followed Dis quickly down the corridor. “Yes. They assumed it was from rogue Orc raiders?”

“The council assumed. But Thorin never thought that. It’s too organized and clean. The few that made it out said it was fast and quiet.”

Mistlynn frowned, eyebrows furrowed. Thorin hadn’t confided his theory with her. He tried to keep their time alone free of any ‘kingdom politics’ as he called it. She had been so caught up with her new roles as Queen she rarely had time to sit with him during council meetings, and she was never called in when foreign affairs were being discussed. Balin had comforted her, stating that Thorin didn’t want to overwhelm her with too much too soon. It had bothered her, but she didn’t question it. Now, in this moment, she felt like she was going in blind.

“He never involves me in these kinds of matters Dis. Why is he asking for me to be present now?”

Dis didn’t look at her as she kept up her fast pace. Her silence made Mistlynn’s stomach plummet with a heavy dread. “Dis. What is it that you are not telling me?”

Dis kept her eyes straight ahead, her regal mask firmly in place. “It’s not my place to overstep the King. He wants to tell you himself.”

Mistlynn swallowed nervously but nodded her acceptance. Dis never referred to Thorin as ‘The King’ when they talked about him between themselves. Something had happened. And it wasn’t good. She tried to fight the sick feeling in her stomach as she felt that small sense of hard earned peace slowly slip away from her, as if seeping away in the icy tendrils of a morning tide.

*********************

Dis led her into the ante chambers of the Throne Room. The room was thick with tension, and as she walked in all conversations ceased. Thorin had been standing beside Balin, Fili and Kili. Dwalin, Gloin, and Nori were standing off to the side with a few other of Thorin’s most trusted council members. She immediately noted that their expressions were grim and hard, and as her gaze fell on each one, they averted their eyes. Not even Fili or Kili could meet her gaze.

Feigning a confidence she wasn’t truly feeling, she approached Thorin. She looked at him questioningly, and she felt her heart seize as she recognized that his stoic King mask was firmly in place. His eyes were icy and guarded as he seemed to study her, as if looking for something he had never been able to see before. She felt the cold, damp tendrils of fear beginning to seep through her as she struggled to think of any viable reason that would warrant him greeting her in this way.

“Yasun, what is going on?” There was a slight shake to her voice as she meet his piercing gaze with her own.

“I have three miners waiting to speak with you in the Throne Room. They just arrived with hundreds of survivors who were chased from their homes in the dead of the night, with nothing but the clothes on their backs. I want you to hear their account for yourself.” His tone was emotionless, and it disturbed her greatly. He had never spoken to her in such a devoid manner.

She searched his face for any further clues but found nothing. He held his arm out for her to take, and with nothing said further led her out of the room. The throne room was empty save for the survivors she was supposed to speak with.

Thorin led her to stand in front of them, allowing her to take in their rough appearance. Smoke residue, dirt, and dried blood covered them. They looked frightened and exhausted from the ordeal they fled from, her heart immediately going out to them and their apparent discomfort. They took a knee as her and Thorin approached, making her grimace at their display of fealty.

“I appreciate your willingness to share your account with the Queen. I assure you your families have been seen to and rooms and meals are being made ready for you.” Thorin gave him an encouraging nod to begin his story again.

“We thank you for generosity, Your Majesty.” The dwarf miner that stood directly in front of his comrades bowed his head in reverence.

Thorin nodded graciously. “Start from the beginning, the night you were attacked.”

“It was well past midnight. They took us completely by surprise. They were able to scale our walls before the alarm could even be sounded. They took out the soldiers within minutes, and opened the main gate to let the riders and Wolves in.”

Mistlynn couldn’t help the gasp that escaped from her lips as her heart stopped in her chest. “Excuse me. Did you say Wolves?”

“Yes, your majesty.” The other miner nodded; his eyes wide as if trying to beg her to believe them. “Giant wolves, and they were ridden by what looked like dwarven warriors, although they looked nothing like any dwarven clan I’ve ever seen. “

“They raided our weapon and food stores, then set our buildings ablaze, whoever tried to fight back they slaughtered whether they were armed or not.”

Mistlynn felt her throat constrict as her ears began to ring. She felt eyes boring into the back of her head as she fought to keep her composure, her hands clutched tightly in front of her.

“There were thousands of them.” The other miner spoke up, his voice shaking. “And there were thousands more just waiting outside the gates, we could see the glowing eyes of the wolves. They made no demands or tried to stop us, they just let us go.”

“Did you happen to see their leader?” Thorin’s voice was low and tense. She couldn’t bring herself to look in his direction.

“Just a glimpse, your Majesty. He led the attack when the doors where opened. He was taller. He rode a white wolf; it was bigger than the other Wolves. He…he was laughing as he let his wolf attack our warriors. He had black markings on his face, covering his eyes. He looked crazed.”

She felt tears burn the rims of her eyes as she fought to keep her breathing under control. She was panicked. There was no possible way that was her adad’s army. That sounded a lot like Valinn, even though her adad was a bear of a dwarf as well. She couldn’t be sure. This had to be a nightmare.

She faintly heard Thorin thanking the survivors again for their retelling and had them escorted to their awaiting rooms and meals.

She was frozen in place as she fought to collect her thoughts, her memories, anything that could make sense of what she had just heard. Her Adad would never do such a thing. He strictly forbade anyone leaving the lands of their kingdom. He believed in secrecy and isolation. He didn’t believe in war, especially fighting and killing your own kind. None of it made sense.

It was then that she could feel him, feel his eyes boring into the side of her face as he watched her struggle to come to terms with what she had just heard.

“Mistlynn.”

She heard his voice faintly, as if he were speaking to her from a great distance. Her chest was burning as she fought to keep the panic at bay that was threatening to consume her.

Giant wolves.

Dwarven riders.

Thousands of them raiding and seizing weapons.

“No.” she told herself as she shook her head, trying to disperse the loud thoughts that were bombarding her.

“Mistlynn!”

Her knees buckled out from underneath her, and she dropped to the hard stone floor, her body had become numb, ears ringing, mouth dry, lungs burning, begging for full breaths of air.

She felt a pair of strong arms, so achingly familiar, encircle her. “No.” she managed to push out through clenched teeth.

“Thorin! She’s as pale as a sheet. For Yavanna’s sake!”

“You don’t think I can’t see that Dis?”

“The lass is havena a panic attack.”

“Mist? Can you hear me?”

Their voices were crashing around her, melding into her tormented thoughts of self-doubt and disbelief, intensifying the jaw clenching ringing that filled her ears. In a daze, she felt herself fight against his arms before freeing herself.
She stood on shaky legs, as if walking for the first time after waking from a raging fever. She heard muffled exclamations, meaningless words fell around her as she pushed herself forward, towards the door she had come from.

She needed quiet.

She needed Luna.

She needed to get out of this suffocating mountain.

She felt something grab her arm, and with surprising force she ripped herself free from the grasp, resulting in her stumbling hard into the door of the ante chamber. Her body was humming and light, she didn’t even feel the impact. One foot, then another as she moved in this dreamlike state, her heart beating like a trapped frantic bird in a cage.

She felt herself get picked up from behind, then forcefully sat down in one of the seats in the room. She closed her eyes tightly as her vision began to swim at the sudden movement.
She felt pressure on her face as she forced her eyes to open. She blinked drowsily as a face slowly came into focus.
It was Thorin, cupping her face in his hands, his eyes bright and intense with worry. His lips were moving, but no sounds came out. She watched his lips move but for some reason she could decipher what he was saying.

********************

*Thorin*

“Mistlynn! I need you to breathe please!” he watched her eyes, dazed and distant, staring at his lips as if unable to understand what he was saying. Her lips were turning blue as her breathes became shallower, her chest rising in quick rapid pants, unable to gather and deliver air into her lungs. She was trembling as if she had been submerged in ice water, and her skin was cold and clammy to the touch.

He had not been anticipating this reaction from her. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting the moment he heard the survivor’s tale. He had first been shocked, then that was soon replaced with a deep rage and hurt.

She barely spoke of her homeland, of what her life had been like before came into his life. He had gathered that it hadn’t been an overly happy or easy one, on the small bits and pieces she volunteered begrudgingly. But this crippling panic that had seized her, he couldn’t help the foreboding dread that was making his gut clench.
His Mistlynn was not easily shook. She was strong and had a vice like control over herself more often than not.
Seeing her like this, fragile and struggling to breathe through turmoil of emotions surging through her, was shaking him to his very core.

He grabbed her trembling hands and placed them on his chest. “Mist. Breathe with me.” He soothed as he cupped the back of her head and brought her forehead to rest against his. “Come back to me M’eudail.”

“Uncle, what can we do? What does she need?” Fili couldn’t take his eyes from Mistlynn as he and Kili hovered behind Thorin anxiously.

“Amad left to get some cold water.” Kili added.

“Isna nothin we can do. This is her battle.” Dwalin muttered, his bushy brows furrowed, giving away his concern.

“Breathe dammit.” They heard Thorin plead through clenched teeth.

Her body shuddered visibly as she managed to inhale a small breath and shakily exhale. She started shaking her head vehemently, clenching her eyes shut. “I-it can’t b-be h-him. H-he w-wouldn’t d-do t-that.”

“Ssshhh M’eudail just focus on breathing.”

“I-it’s not p-possible.”

He drew her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. “Breathe with me, okay? Can you do that for me?” He whispered into her hair before placing a soothing kiss on her head. He felt her hands suddenly tightened on the collar of his shirt as she buried her face into his neck, clinging to him as if her life depended on it.

He cursed himself internally. He shouldn't have thrown her into that without any warning, he let his sense of duty as King choke out his duty as her husband and protector. He picked her up gently, careful to not jostle her too much as he sat down on the chair and set her on his lap so that she could burrow into the safety that was him.
He sighed in relief as her breathing grew deeper and stronger. The shudders wracking her body subsided with each deep breath she took. The tangible worry in the room lightened as she grew visibly calmer in his arms. It was Thorin who broke the silence first. “Fili, Kili. I need you to talk to as many survivors as you can and get every detail about what happened.”

Fili and Kili nodded, eager to have something productive to do. “Dwalin, Nori, I need you to have our army at the ready and our guard doubled. Nothing as much breathes outside this mountain without us knowing about it.” Dwalin and Nori nodded stiffly. “It will be done.”

“Balin, I need you to send Ravens to Dain, Thranduil and Bard. Inform them of what we know and to be on guard. The rest of you we will convene as soon as we know more. For now, I want everyone on high alert, and no one is to leave Erebor.”

“It will be done.”

**************

*Mistlynn*

She could feel his chest rumbling under her as he spoke to whoever was in the room with them. She couldn't bring herself to focus on anything, let alone to what he was saying. Her head was pounding, and her body ached. She breathed him in, his scent a soothing balm to her exposed and raw nerves. She felt him sigh deeply as the sound of a closing door echoed in the room.

His hand was rubbing her back soothingly while the other held onto her firmly. “You scared me.” She heard him whisper into her.

She swallowed, her throat scratchy and thick as her grip on his shirt tightened.

“I-I’m sorry.” She couldn’t help but whisper as she struggled to form the words properly on her tongue.

She felt him shift so that he could gently push her back from him so that he could look down at her. His free hand cupped her jaw, his thumb tracing along her cheekbone softly. “I need you to talk to me.” His words were gentle, yet still firm. “I need you to tell me what you know.”

She shook her head as tears threatened to fall. “I-It can’t be them. My Adad would never leave the safety of the Northern Wastes.”

“Kurdunuh. You heard what they said. The giant wolves. The description of their leader. The chances of there being another dwarven clan with Dire Wolves…” He stopped, reigning in his frustration. He couldn't have her shut down again.

“No Thorin. He didn’t do this!” She stumbled back off his lap and stood trembling on unstable legs, her eyes blazing with unshed tears and anger. “You don’t know, you know nothing!”

Thorin’s eyes flashed at her abrupt show of anger. He stood slowly from the seat and drew himself to his full height. “I know nothing because my wife has been keeping things from me.” His tone was quiet, yet an accusing anger lingered under the surface.

“There is nothing to tell! We are not bloodthirsty savages! We don’t seek out war, or plunder and pillage! We don’t kill our own kind!” Her voice shook, heavy with emotion and righteous rage.

“WE? Don’t be so naïve!” Thorin hissed. “You have this ridiculous notion that your people are incapable of any wrongdoing! There is no question that this is your father, raiding my outlining towns and mines to gather weapons that you’ve said yourself that your kingdom has no access to otherwise!”

“We don’t need your precious weapons! We live in solitude, away from every backstabbing, greedy kingdom in this cursed land.” Her eyes flashed, desperation and fear making them appear wild.

He narrowed his eyes. “I’m going to pretend that shite just didn’t come out of your mouth. You know that isn’t true.” He took a controlled step towards her, his arms crossed over his chest as he studied her. “This doesn’t have to be a fight.”

She let out a shaky breath. “You are accusing my kingdom of something you have no proof of.”

“No proof?” he looked at her incredulously, fighting to keep his voice from raising out of pure frustration. “Are you saying you don’t believe those dwarves that barely escaped with their lives? You might as well call them liars!”

“I’m not saying I don’t believe them!” she defended as she ran a shaky hand through her hair.

“That’s exactly what you’re saying! By not even accepting the possibility that your adad could be behind these raids! Who else on this side of Arda can it possibly be!” he snapped, losing the battle to keep his temper subdued.

Her bottom lip trembled at his outburst as her defensive stance threatened to crumble again. “I need to know how big his army is. How many are there Mistlynn?” His voice was low and gravelly as he looked at her expectantly.

She gulped thickly before shaking her head while wrapping her arms around herself. “I don’t know.”

His eyes flashed in anger and disbelief. “You do know.” He growled. “Fine, then give me a general idea so that I can be prepared.”

“Prepared for what?”

“Durin’s beard Mistlynn, you are not this daft! My people, OUR people are being attacked and I need to respond, most likely with military force!”

She looked at him in shock, only just realizing that he would have to answer against such a threat.

How did she not realize that he had no choice but to retaliate against those attacks?

It was all too much, too soon. Here they stood, across from each other, at odds. And why exactly? Her initial response was defensive, to deflect and fight back. She knew he had every right to be angry and demand answers.
The very idea of Thorin, her One, going to war with anyone made her blood turn into ice.

She couldn’t accept that it was her Adad leading his army against them, attacking innocents, and stealing weapons. But that was before Argos died, and probably assumed her dead as well. His grief over her Amads death had broken him already, but he never showed that kind of affection towards her, only his sons. None of that wouldn’t explain why they would invade when they avoided all contact with all other kingdoms for the past couple thousand years.

Unless, he had somehow heard that she was now married to the King of Erebor, a son of Durin. King of the Long Beards. The mightiest of the 7 Dwarf clans. Would that drive him on this rampage? If that was the case, this was all on her. She never told Thorin the full story of her family, her people, and that she was the one who exiled herself rather than face the shame of her brother’s death. She felt a wave of nausea hit her low in the gut as she started to realize what her poor decisions and communication had wrought. Her husband leading his kingdom against her fathers in war.

She reached out for his hand desperately. “You can’t! You can’t go to war with them. I beg of you! Please don’t!”

Her sudden desperate pleas startled him. “What kind of King do you take me for? It is my duty to protect my people, I cannot ignore this just because it could be your family!”

Tears were now streaming down her face freely, tugging at his heart painfully. Her hands shook as she linked her fingers through his. “I am so sorry Thorin. I had no idea …I didn’t know or thought that this would ever happen. “She was looking down at their intertwined hands, before she clamped her eyes shut tightly, “50,000 strong was where my father’s army was before I left. 10,000 of that are paired with Dire Wolf mounts.”

Thorin looked as if she had sucker punched him. “50,000 strong?” he repeated, his voice hoarse.

She nodded, incapable of saying anything else. She couldn’t help the sob that escaped her lips as he pulled his hand out of hers. “Why did you not tell me?” He growled, unable to hide the hurt dripping from his words.

“You never asked! And to be fair I never thought this could happen. If it truly is my father…”

“Do you hear yourself Mistlynn?! IF!?” he roared incredulously. “You are still standing by IF? They literally described a dwarf riding a massive Dire Wolf. That isn’t a coincidence that is a stone-cold fact!”

“I swear to you Thorin, this isn’t my father! He could never do these things. There must be another explanation.”

Thorin’s answering laugh was cold and disbelieving. “You're unbelievable, you know that? What else have you kept from me?”

Mistlynn clenched her jaw, her teary eyes glistening with fury. “That’s rich coming from you! It’s not like you haven’t been all forthcoming with all your skeletons!”

“I’ve withheld nothing of importance about myself! Unlike you, hiding the fact that a kingdom of hybrid dwarven warriors with a standing army of 50,000 and 10,000 bloodthirsty Dire Wolves are just waiting beyond the Grey Mountains for their opportune moment to strike!”

“You told me that only your Grandfather succumbed to Dragon sickness! You withheld the fact you succumbed as well and nearly killed Bilbo and incited a war between Elves, Dwarves and Men all for a stupid sparkly rock! How do we not know that our children wouldn’t be susceptible to inheriting it from you!” It was a low blow, she knew that. She immediately regretted it the moment the hurled accusation left her mouth.

A painful shame flashed across his face, contorting his expression with a look of betrayal before he schooled his expression into the hard, ruthless mask of a King.

“You have made it abundantly clear where your loyalties lie.” His voice was deep and dangerously low. His eyes were dark and cold, making her shiver as they bore into her ruthlessly. “I am done with this.”

Her heart stopped as if it had been stabbed through with an icy dagger. She watched, frozen in place as he turned sharply and stalked towards the door. He threw the door open, finding Dis standing uncomfortably on the other side, with a pitcher of water in her hand. “See that she is escorted to our room and is kept there.” He seethed venomously before storming off.

Dis watched him disappear down the corridor before turning to look at Mistlynn, eyes wide in disbelief.

******************

*Thorin*

His office was occupied with his closest friends and advisors, except for Bombur who was busy cooking comfort meals for the refugees. He needed those he could trust most with this new turn of events. It was a very rare occurrence that he felt this exposed and at a complete loss as to what he should do.

Anger and guilt were rippling through his veins. He forgot how exhausting it was to feel it at such a strong capacity, all built up and hot under his skin, pent up and threatening to burst.

“So, you’re telling me you’ve known this for over 8 months? She told you all of this before our wedding and you didn’t think to tell me?”

Balin sighed wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “I told her she needed to tell you and she promised me she would. I assumed she told you during your honeymoon.”

Thorin cursed vapidly in Khuzdul as he leaned over his desk, his hands gripping the ledge of the surface as he sought to relieve some of the rage he was fighting to keep under control.

He still couldn’t believe how he had woken up alongside his wife that very morning, so very much in love with her, only to be broken hearted and tasting the bitter taste of betrayal on his tongue by the time night had fallen that same day.

He was well aware that he had been keeping things from her as well. But this felt different. He never thought of keeping his discoveries about her supposed abilities and connection with the Arkenstone as a betrayal. He didn’t have factual evidence to support his suspicions, the only substantial catalyst being the steadily freezing vaults in the deepest part of the treasury, the Arkenstone’s power intensifying with each passing day. “She told me some of it, of how she was taught to hate and distrust other clans. She knows now that she was fed nothing but lies growing up. But that was the extent of it.”

“I saw how she broke down today, Laddie.” Balin pressed, sensing the King’s frustrated ire. “Keeping her people’s history and her lineage a secret is not malicious on her part. I think she was genuinely scared of how we would all react if it came out.”

“I already knew she was of elven descent!” Thorin seethed. “I obviously did not care in the slightest! I married her! Made her my Queen! What bothers me the most is that she purposefully hid from me the extent of her kingdom’s military standing and what their true issues were with the rest of the clans. And now, they are attacking our mining towns and seizing weapons for a massive army that could take out both the Iron Hills and us without even blinking an eye!” He emphasized that last point by slamming his fists down on the desk, making his comrades wince at the loudness of the impact.

“Uncle, she was adamant it couldn’t be her Adad.” Kili winced as Thorin’s steely gaze landed on him.

“And yet, four of our most profitable mining towns are in smoldering ruins, hundreds of our subjects are dead!” Thorin hissed. “Thousands of weapons are now in the hands of hybrid, dragon slaying warriors with chips on their shoulders. And with Dire Wolf mounts no less!” He stopped mid-rant, taking a deep breath to bring his anger down a level. “Thranduil warned me of this. He also warned that there is a strong probability that her father has in his possession one of the last Dwarven rings of power. The one given to Azaghal, Mistlynn’s ancestor, was never accounted for. It isn’t too far of a stretch that he may very well be under its influence. Not to mention that infernal threat her Gamul’adad made to mine regarding the Arkenstone.”

He watched his comrades mutter amongst themselves at this new information. “Why now? Countless years have passed, and they have lived apart from us, knowing we had the Arkenstone in our possession. What would draw them to declare war now?” Nori prompted as he stroked his beard.

“Maybe he caught wind of Mistlynn marrying you. And he thinks that’s a slight?” Bofur offered, as he fiddled with his pipe.

“She was exiled. Why would he care? Unless its regarding her influence over the Arkenstone?” Fili bit out, just as desperate as all of them to make it all make some sort of sense.

Bifur bit out some curses under his breath as everyone began to argue whether Mistlynn was aware of any role she played in this conflict or not.

“Dinnae matter wha reason ‘e has! If ‘e has a ring of power anythin could provoke ‘im.” Dwalin growled loudly as he paced in front of the fireplace. “She left on bad terms, dinnae matter if she is aware, involved or no.”

“There is no way she could have known that she was Thorin’s One.” Balin retorted testily.” We would have noticed, and I don’t think she is capable of pulling off such an act. She is one of the most genuine souls I have met. Do not forgot how we found her, of how scared she was of all of us.”

“She doesn’t know about the Arkenstone besides what she’s been told by us.” Thorin interrupted, his tone firm as he swept the room with an unyielding gaze. “She’s been mourning the death of her brother and adapting to our clan and way of life.” He let out a weary sigh. “Balin is right. She isn’t aware of any extenuating circumstances regarding the Arkenstone or the raids. I just…” he grappled for the right words as his gaze stopped at Balin. “Why wouldn’t she tell us about the size of their army?”

Balin shook his head ruefully. “I can’t say that I know Laddie. I am just as baffled as you are.”

Roac flew through the open window by his desk, making all discussions cease as he landed on Thorin’s shoulder. They watched in suspense as Thorin listened to the raven’s message intently. His face grew dark by the time Roac finished his message. “Dain has sent word that they are completely surrounded by an unknown army of about 25,000 soldiers, most of them are on Dire Wolf mounts and heavily armed.”

The silence was deafening, and all heat was sucked out of the room despite the roaring fire in the massive hearth. “Another 25,000 are expected to be here at our gates within the next couple days.” He finished, his tone was brittle as he walked back to his desk, grabbing parchment and an inkwell. He scrawled several quick messages before walking back to the window, giving one to Roac before summoning more ravens to carry the other four messages.

“What are we going to do?” Ori couldn’t help but whisper, the only one brave enough to break the heavy silence.

Thorin said nothing as he watched the ravens fly off and disappear into the night. “I have reached out to Dale, Mirkwood, Rohan, and Rivendell. Until then, we will prepare for our uninvited guests. If it’s a fight he wants, that’s what the bastard will get.”

Chapter Text

*Mistlynn*

She paced like a caged lion in the sitting room of their chambers. Luna lay by the door, her massive head tensely resting on her front paws as she watched her rider stalk the room over and over. She would occasionally let out a sharp whine, as if pleading Mistlynn to stop and rest, if just for a moment.

Mistlynn let out a shaky breath. She ran her fingers through her hair as she fought to regain control. She couldn’t let her raging emotions take hold. Thorin was angry, and rightfully so.

But so was she.

He had been keeping something from her, something that was so significant that it had been a distraction for months. He had been trying to be more present, and she had no doubts that he loved her. But it was still there, like some dark cloud that loomed over them.

And it had something to do with her, of that she had no doubt. She would catch him watching her sometimes, his gaze dark and penetrating as if he were trying to fit the pieces together that made her this complex puzzle he couldn’t seem to figure out. And then she began to notice the same looks in their close friends as family as well. Dis, Fili, Kili and even Balin and Dwalin were giving her lingering looks. Tauriel had been gone a lot more in Mirkwood, on some unknown search for information pertaining to something that had a firm hold on Thorin. It all seemed so obvious now. The hushed whispers as she walked out of a room, the questioning stares.

Another shaky breath left her chest. Her body still felt heavy and achy from her previous panic attack earlier. She approached the fireplace, heat radiating from the hot rock that housed the blazing fire within its carved body and allowed herself to sink to her knees. The numbness was seeping in once more, she could feel the icy tendrils of illogical fear taking hold of from the inside.
Luna came up behind her and nuzzled her head in-between her shoulder blades, nudging her gently from her frozen stance in front of the fire.

“He’s done with me Luna.” She croaked as she shivered, the words escaping her on a breathless gasp. “He knows something, and he is done with me. Just like my Adad.” She choked on the words. “He never told me anything either, he just kept it to himself too.”

A sharp twist of emotional pain seized her as she felt tears burn and flood her eyes. “What does he know?” she gasped, her arms tightening around herself as if attempting to stave off the chill that was beginning to fill her despite her closeness to the fire.
Luna whined again, this time licking her cheek in a gesture of comfort.
A wracking sob escaped her as Luna wrapped her big body around her, knowing that she needed something, someone there to hold her together as she fall apart.

Mistlynn turned her body towards Luna as tears began to fall freely. “What am I to do Luna?”

Another low whine answered her as Luna laid her head onto her lap, affectively cradling her against her side and neck, offering her a safe place to let go of the fear and grief that was consuming her.

Mistlynn buried her face into Luna’s neck and let go, crying until she was fully spent and her body heavy and devoid of tears.

The sun had set outside, setting the shadows of the dusk free to move and stretch about the darkened room.

Mistlynn had begun to drift away into the weightless void of sleep, her eyes heavy and hot as she finally gave in to the lull of Luna’s warm fur and familiar scent of earth and wind.

She was too far gone to hear the door of the room creak open, and several pairs of footsteps entered the room. Luna’s ears flicked back towards the intruders, yet she didn’t move a muscle as their familiar scents alerted her to who was present.

Her heterochromia eyes of rich earth and palest sky met Thorin's stormy blue as he quietly approached to look down at his love nestled in the comfort of Luna’s silken white fur.

He noticed her puffy and reddened cheeks, dried trails of salt coating her pale skin. He clenched his jaw as guilt wracked him to his core. He had let his temper run again; he had left her for far too long alone. She had cried herself to sleep, and it troubled him.

“She cried herself to sleep, poor thing.” Dis chided, her voice ridden with remorse. “She shouldn’t have been left alone. I should have been here.”

“You were seeing to the survivors, my dear.” Balin soothed Dis quietly as the three figures gathered around Luna. “Tomorrow is a new day, and we will face this head on, together.”

Thorin sighed deeply before nodding in agreement. “We should know more by the morning. We should convene at first light and get ahead of this…”

“We will convene once we know more. Everything that could be done, has been seen to. We have no other choice but to wait and see how this unfolds.” Balin gave Thorin a pointed look before nodding towards Mistlynn. “She has had quite the shock, that much is plain. And she needs you, now more than ever. If this is indeed the doing of her Adad…” the older Dwarrow trailed off as he shook his head, his words weighted with dread. “It’s going to be a long haul for all of us, especially her.”

Thorin let his gaze drift back to Mistlynn’s small form, curled in on herself as shuddered breaths escaped between her chapped lips. After a brief moment, he nodded in agreement as sadness and regret filled his gaze. “You are right, my friend. As usual.”

Balin let out a humorless huff as he placed a comforting hand on Thorin’s shoulder. “All will be well. We have faced worse.” Balin gave Mistlynn one last empathetic glance before turning and walking towards the door to leave.

“Take care of your One, you great lummox.” Dis scolded softly as she pulled Thorin into a comforting embrace. “Either I or Balin will alert you if anything happens.”

Thorin returned the embrace before Dis pulled away as well. “Get some sleep Dis.” He ordered gruffly as he watched his sister turn and leave.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead, brother. You know this.” She winked over her shoulder at him before she stepped out and shut the door softly behind her.

Thorin looked back down at Luna and Mistlynn for a moment, trying to figure out what his next approach should be. Luna wagged her tail gently, the sound of it hitting the floor muffled against the plush carpet.

Thorin knelt down next to them and allowed his hand to pet Luna’s head gently before rubbing her velvet ears with his fingers.

“Thank you for taking care of her when I couldn't.” he breathed softly. Luna turned her muzzle and licked his arm in reassurance.

Thorin chuckled faintly. “I hope she will be as forgiving and understanding as you.”

Cautiously, he threaded his arms under her legs and behind her upper back, making her stir slightly as he slowly picked her up and cradled her against him.

A light moan escaped her as she adjusted herself against his chest, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck and shoulder as he stood slowly and tightened his hold on her.

Luna got up and silently followed him into the bedroom, slinking into the darkness quickly so that he could shut the door with his foot before he approached the bed and sat down. He pulled her boots off one by one, making her stir in his arms. Thorin hummed soothingly as he let her boots fall to the floor before he uncinched her corset and dropped it next to her boots. He pulled the covers back and lifted her gently back onto the mattress, allowing her to sink into the pillowed top of the bed.

She stirred slightly as he removed his own boots, belt and tunic. “Thorin?” she grumbled disjointedly as she cracked her eyes open into slits as she peered into the blackened room.

“Sshh its alright. I am here.” He soothed gently as he slid into the covers next to her. He slid an arm underneath her shoulders and positioned himself next to her as he pulled the blankets up to cover them.

“You are a dream. He said he was done.” She mumbled sleepily as she rolled over, her face burying into his chest as she wrapped her arms around him, as if desperate to get as close as possible.

Luna jumped up on the bed, taking advantage of the knowledge this was one of those nights Thorin wouldn’t argue her joining them on their bed. “I’ll never be done, M’eudail.” He breathed into her hair, savoring the way she sighed in her sleep and melted into him at his hushed words. “I love you, more than life itself.”

******************

Next morning…

First thing she noted was her dry and swollen throat. She winced as she swallowed. the action uncomfortable as if she had eaten sharp shards of bone the night prior.
She attempted to blink her eyes open, scowling at the sensation of dried salt left from the previous evenings tears on her skin and lashes.

The next was a deep setting nausea that lingered in the pit of her stomach. A groan escaped her as the heaviness of her head and neck returned. “Mahal curse it.” She grumbled as she rolled from her back onto her side, shielding her eyes from the brightness of the sun that was cutting through the cutouts of the windows.

Her sight sharpened slowly as she adjusted to the light, her gaze stopping at a figure that was sitting next to the bed, staring at her.

She tensed as it registered to her that it was Thorin, staring at her from the chair he occupied, his elbows resting on his knees. He rubbed a hand over his mouth and beard before he laced his hands together, as if he was unsure of what the right words to say.
He cleared his throat, his blue eyes earnest as he studied her. She felt herself tense as their argument from the previous day rushed back to the forefront of her mind. Her heart began to ache at the memory that was now branded on her, throbbing as if she had been physically bruised.

Thorin must have noticed the change in her demeanor because his gaze softened instantly as his shoulders hunched slightly forward.
“How are you feeling?” his tone was gentle, if not a little wary.

Mistlynn blinked, her dry eyes protesting at the rapid movement. “Like drake shite.” She croaked out, and she winced at the sound of her rough voice.
Thorin reached for the pitcher that she hadn’t noticed was on the side table and poured a glass of water that he promptly handed to her. She kept her eyes on the glass, not daring to look up at his face as she took it with a shaky hand.

“Thank you.” She murmured before bringing the glass to her lips. The water instantly soothed her, and she felt a little more alive that she had just seconds prior.
She downed the entire glass quickly and sat it down at the bedside table.

Silence reigned between them for several moments before Thorin cleared his throat.

“We need to talk.”

She sniffed as her stomach rolled at his words.

There it was.

“You made yourself perfectly plain yesterday.” She rasped as she clasped her hands together tightly, and she stared at them as her knuckles whitened at the pressure.

She heard Thorin sigh. “I was caught off guard Mistlynn. I was angry and upset that you have kept so much from me.”

“You’ve known something for months, that it wasn’t Orcs raiding the towns. You’ve never asked about the size of our army.” She fought the urge to look up at him as she felt the familiar burn begin around the corners of her eyes, her perchance for tears adding to her simmering anger. “So how can you say that you were caught off guard when you have apparently known and suspected more than I this entire time?”
She had never cried this much in her life; she hadn’t had the time to when her Amad had died, and she had her baby brother to care for.
She loathed it, the residue of the prior nights tears still making the skin of her face tight as she moved. She couldn’t help to wonder if the twisting hurt in her gut was akin to something painfully similar to hate, just by hearing his voice and sensing his proximity to her.

From what she had seen briefly, he had looked perfectly fine. Albeit a little tired judging by the slight shadows under his eyes. She wanted him to feel, just a slight amount of what she had felt yesterday, of what she was feeling now. She wanted him to know how his words had nearly shattered her completely, and it hurt even more knowing that he had been the only one to ever piece her back together, nearly whole for the first time since her Amad’s passing.

She fought the urge to look up at him as she heard him stand up from his seat, still intent on staring at her clasped hands. She knew it would be easier to hold on to her anger that way than chance losing it when looking him in the eyes.

She felt the mattress give beside her before she watched his arm, and half his torso come into her view. His dark braids and waves hung over his shoulder, as if he was trying to catch her downturned gaze with his.

“M’eudail, look at me.”

She was startled that his voice was gentle, if not a little imploring. She let herself raise her gaze so that she was looking up through her lashes at him. He had his head tilted slightly, so that he was looking directly at her.
This close, his normally clear blue eyes were slightly reddened as if he had stared into a fire for too long. He brought his hand up and tilted her chin up, so that she was looking directly at him.

“I am sorry.” He whispered earnestly as he let his thumb caress her lower jaw. “I was angry. I was hoping that my suspicions, my worst fears were wrong.” He shook his head slightly as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes, I kept things from you. But I have been trying to differentiate fact from heresy. There are so many things I haven’t been able to discern, beyond any reason of doubt. I didn’t want to burden you …”

The intensity of his eyes, like a churning sea nearly robbed her entirely of her heated ire. “This isn’t just about the White Kingdom. I shouldn't have kept you in the dark. But I was scared; scared of losing you to this thing that I have no idea what it is or how to even fight it. It just kept getting bigger, more complex with each turn, and I just didn’t know how to even contain it anymore.”

Mistlynn blinked as dread began to grow instead of anger, her stomach churning for an entirely different reason.

“I am not your enemy, Mistlynn. I know what it is like to be possessed by something outside of yourself, and I am desperate to save you from that. I’ve seen what that stone can do to the noblest of dwarves, I do not want that struggle for you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “The Arkenstone? What does that have to do with me? I know you suspect it to be the ‘Iklal Kurdu’ my Gamul’adad was demanding before he died, but I have never once laid eyes upon it.”

Thorin grimaced before he let his chin fall to his chest. “Do you remember that morning I played my harp? Right after our honeymoon?”

She nodded slowly; eyebrows raised in question. “Yes?”
He let out a slow, steady breath before looking back up at her. “And you sang that song? The old lullaby?”

She nodded again, this time with impatience. “Yes. I remember. I don’t sing often.”

“Why is that? Why don’t you sing often? Especially with a voice like yours.”

“I’ve told you why. My Adad never liked me singing. It bothered him, and I just lost the desire for it. That melody you played was the first time I wanted to sing since…”

“Your Amad, as you have said. But why? Why is that? What was she Mistlynn?”
Mistlynn frowned at the very blunt question. “What do you mean, ‘what was she?’ She was the princess of the White Kingdom and was well loved. She was known for her voice. She was the keeper of our stories. That’s it, nothing nefarious.”

He searched her face for a moment, and looked slightly crestfallen when it appeared he didn’t find exactly what he had been looking for. She couldn’t help but bristle at the notion. “What is going on Thorin? Why are you asking me all these questions about my Amad and singing, of all things? I don’t understand how this has anything to do with the Arkenstone.”

He leaned back away from her but kept his seat on the bed. His back straightened as he rubbed a hand wearily down his face. “Because Mistlynn. It appears that the Arkenstone is not a stone. It’s something else entirely.”

A moments silence fell between them. She felt her skin prickle with bumps as a chill brushed over her. “What do you mean it’s not a stone?” she whispered, her voice wavering.

“When you sang… it was unlike anything I had ever heard before, M’eudail.” His voice became deep, brimming with emotion as he spoke. “It held a power I have never felt, nor heard. Yet it moved me, in a way I have never felt before. And while you sang, it was as if the mountain, Erebor itself was listening, absorbing that power into its walls.”

He paused, gauging her reaction.
She tried to keep a straight face, but her heart began to pound as his words began to sink in. She knew exactly what he was talking about. Her Amad had had that effect on her when she sang.
The memories were so distant, so scattered, she vaguely remembered the massive gatherings that occurred, her Amad singing to the sky, whether it be to the sun or the moon and stars in some sort of ceremony that tied her to those around her, and to the very earth and sky that encompassed them all. Although vague, she couldn’t deny the power that channeled through her during those moments.

She had nearly forgotten.

“You know what I speak of, don’t you?” He laid a hand on hers, eager to draw her out of her distant memories and back to the present with him.

“What does my singing have to do with the Arkenstone?” she croaked, ignoring his question by asking her own. She was terrified of his answer.
They stared at each other for another prolonged moment, before Thorin concluded that she was not ready to acknowledge or warrant an answer to his question.
From her reaction, he already knew the answer.

There was a dark history there, and he wasn’t sure if she was keeping it because she genuinely didn’t remember because she was too young, or if she was choosing to not remember to due to the melancholy that seemed to anchor itself to her whenever her past was mentioned.
“It seems to have been …awakened. And it is now emitting a power we are not sure how to contain.”

Mistlynn blanched. “Awakened? Power?” she stammered; her eyes wide. “Are you sure it is because I sang that lullaby? It was just a lullaby Thorin!”

Thorin nodded stiffly. “It is too much of a coincidence. Gloin noticed that very day, in the vaults where it is locked away, had started to grow colder. An unnatural cold.” He noticed her sharp intake of breath at the description.
“It hasn’t stopped …glowing. It is as if the inside of the stone is like a snowstorm. We have searched through our library, and I have reached out to Thranduil and Lord Elrond of Rivendale. We have found nothing to explain what it is or why it is doing this. We can only conclude that it is a chain reaction … of sorts.”

Mistlynn fought the revulsion she felt rising up in her stomach. She pushed it down, along with the faint tingling that began to fill her limbs like lead.
“I am sorry.” She murmured as she fought to breathe normally. “I…I don’t know why my singing would have affected it in that way. My Amad was a talented singer, but that is it. I was never told about possessing some …power. My Adad would have told me.”

Thorin cocked an eyebrow. “Would he have told you?” he pressed softly.
Mistlynn scoffed. “What would have to gain in not telling me if I had some sort of … ability to sing as if I possess magic like some …what, wizard? Witch?”
Thorin shook his head. “A lot actually. Specifically control over you.”

“No. No he wouldn’t do that. He despised anything that had to do with magic, of any kind.” She shook her head adamantly, clutching her hands again into fists.
“Mist, I am asking you to keep an open mind, please.” Thorin pleaded, reaching for her hand again. “I know your relationship with him is…complicated. But I need you to be open to the idea that all may not be as it seem when it comes to the White Kingdom, or your Adad’s intentions. Surely, you can see things from my standpoint?”
“I swear I would tell you if I thought he was capable of such a thing as taking innocent lives in an act of war, Thorin. The only thing he concerned himself with was keeping us safe and hidden, and killing Frost Drakes. Nothing else mattered to him.”
“Why were you all taught the art of hand-to-hand combat? If all you had to worry about was hunting Frost Drakes and defending yourselves from predators? Why amass a giant army of warriors with dire wolf mounts?” She could sense the frustration rolling off of him in waves. “It doesn’t make any sense, Kurdunuh.”

She blinked as she thought of how to respond. She didn’t have a straight answer for him, and for the first time, she truly thought about her Adad’s actions, of his methods. “I…I don’t know Thorin.”
She watched as pity appeared in his eyes as he looked at her, and she loathed it. But she couldn’t help the nagging feeling of doubt that started to prick the back of her mind. Of all the lies she had slowly uncovered and unraveled the past year in Erebor, her family and their story had always been murky at best.

Despite all of the horrors Thorin and Dis had been through, they remembered their childhood vividly. They questioned nothing when it came to their family, the bad was laid out right next to the good for all to see. There was no hiding any of it. They were proud of their history, and they learned from it.

She couldn't say the same about her family, of her kingdom. It troubled her the more she thought of it.

If, for whatever reason, she was the cause of the Arkenstone’s current state, where did that leave her? She swallowed thickly as doubt set in heavier than before. “What happens now?” She licked her lips nervously. “I do understand if this changes things … for us.” She looked away from him, not wanting to see the expression on his face. She couldn't bear to see the disappointment aimed towards her.

She looked down at her hands once more, clasping them together so that his hand was no longer touching hers. And she braced herself for what she knew was coming.

“What do you mean by that?” Thorin demanded as he placed a firm hand under her chin and made her look back up at him. “Nothing has changed. You are my One, my Queen, MY WIFE.”
His eyes were ablaze, voice low with ire. He shook his head, expression stormy with exasperation at her assumption. “Why do you think at every disagreement or trial we face that I am incapable of honoring my vows to you?”

“I do not think your incapable.” Her voice shook as his grip on her chin tightened, not allowing her to look away. “This is not what you deserve, Thorin. This deception of my family, these lies that pertain to my kingdom are not your burden to bear but mine.” She brought her hand up and gripped her fingers around his wrist.

“It’s apparent I know nothing of myself even. I had no right to bring you into any of this.”

“If you think for one moment that I am walking away and allowing you to deal with any of this alone you are sorely mistaken.” Thorin growled, not once breaking his intense gaze away from her. “We will face this together. We are bound in soul, fated to one another by Mahal, there is no walking away from one another. Your burdens are mine to carry, as mine are yours. That is how marriage works.”

He moved his hand to cup her cheek and pulled her closer to him, so that their foreheads could touch. “I love you, Mistlynn. When I said nothing could change my love for you, I meant it with every fiber of my being. Despite my frustrations at your constant assumptions and vast array of skeletons in your familial closet, they are not enough to change my mind. You are mine, and I am yours. Always.”

She couldn’t help as the tears gathered unbidden in her eyes before they escaped down her cheeks. He gently kissed her tears away from her cheeks before capturing her lips with his.
A shudder of relief surged through her body as she returned his kiss hungrily. She moved swiftly into his lap, burying her hands into the hair at the back of his head.
“I am so sorry.” She breathed against his lips in between kisses as hot tears of relief rolled down her cheeks.

She felt the broken pieces of her snapping back into place with his words, every jagged edge of her heart soothed with every caress of his lips as he breathed hope back into her.
His arm tightened around her torso as he held her even closer against him as his other hand still cupped her face, brushing away tears as he traced her cheekbone with his thumb.

“I am sorry too. I didn’t want you find out about the Arkenstone like this.”

Mistlynn sniffed as she nodded slightly in understanding. “One crisis at a time is probably the best way to approach this mess.”

Thorin huffed a laugh. “I couldn’t agree more.”

********

Later that afternoon…

Fili was a frequent visitor to the forges of Erebor. It was something he had been able to bond with his uncle over, while Kili had shared their uncle’s love for archery. It was a good distraction to immerse oneself in, to mold and bend metal under a firm hand to make something of lethal beauty with emotions that were threatening to tear you apart from the inside.

He had grown up watching his uncle throw all his anger and pain into the taming of metal, to watch the molten metal and biting sparks to glisten within the depths of his eyes and the sweat that would drop down from his skin.

He knew of the horrors his uncle had lived through, of the burdens he carried. He had stepped in when his father had died and raised him and Kili as if they were his own sons. He owed everything he was to the sacrifices and unconditional love his Amad and uncle had made on his and Kili’s behalf.

He never really thought of those sacrifices on Thorin’s behalf, until after Erebor had been claimed. And then Mistlynn had come along, and he hadn’t been the same since. Seeing them having to go through this insanity so soon after getting married pained him deeply. He knew his uncle could hide his true feelings, and just the fact he could see the pain seep through his weary eyes worried him. This new vulnerability that his friends and family could see left him grasping for any solution within his reach.

As he approached his uncle’s forge, he could hear the telltale sounds of metal being beaten into submission. The King’s forge was amidst the rest of the blacksmiths of Erebor. He declined having a forge in a more private location, instead he valued working alongside his fellow blacksmiths, never allowing him to forget the
life he had led and grew to appreciate before reclaiming Erebor.

He slowly entered the forge, Thorin’s bare back facing him as he worked on a sword. He observed silently, noting his very experienced uncle was over working the blade with heavy handed blows of the hammer. His brow furrowed in concern as the Dwarf King cursed vehemently in their sacred tongue as he threw the ruined blade into the vat of water, steam hissing angrily into the dim room. The hammer went flying into the work bench, splintering the front leg, and making it collapse to the ground, its contents spilling across the floor in a loud crash.

Fili had never seen such a destructive display from his Uncle, who had always managed to keep a cool head even in the most stressful of times. His eyebrows raised in surprise at the explicit mutters that filled the room.
“I can count on one hand how many times I’ve heard you curse, and they have all occurred just this past year.”

Thorin whirled around in alarm to face his nephew, his face falling into a grimace of regret at him catching him in a moment of temper. “Fili.” He sighed, as he ran a dirty hand over his smoke-streaked face.

“I’m not a pebble anymore. I can handle a few expletives.”

He watched Thorin cast a sheepish glance towards his destroyed workbench before stepping towards its spilled contents, picking up the discarded tunic he had placed there prior.

‘I was wanting to see how Mistlynn was. A lot happened yesterday, and I wanted to check in on her. Amad and Rosalyn are holed up with her now and no one will give me a straight answer.” His tone was quiet yet firm. He watched his uncle’s shoulders tense briefly before he shrugged his tunic on. “I know her relationship with her Adad is complicated. She has told me as much.”

“You do not think that I am capable of taking care of my own wife Irakdashat?” It was a testy deflection, one that Fili didn’t particularly care for.

“I didn’t say that. I am concerned for my baruf. Besides Kili and Amad, both of you are the most important in my life.”

Thorin crossed his arms over his chest, his stance defensive as he quirked an eyebrow at him.

“I believe in her Irak’adadi. She is confused, and scared and she needs us. Especially you! She has always felt like an outsider, and I am afraid that this will only isolate her further. I am not condoning her secrecy, but I know the depth of your anger and I …” Fili was stopped midsentence as Thorin held his hand up, bidding for silence. They stared at each other for a tense moment, before Thorin let his defensive down with a weary sigh.

“I’m upset with her not confiding in me, she should have never kept such intel from me. I can’t ignore that Fili, especially when innocents have lost their lives. She won’t even consider that it could be her father, despite everything that we know.”

“What if it isn’t her father? What if…”

“That is beside the point, she failed to inform me of the military might of her kingdom, then refused to tell me repeatedly, even when she was confronted about it.”

“Maybe she doesn’t consider the White Kingdom as a military might? Maybe she honestly believes that they wouldn’t pursue war? I can’t imagine being taught one way, being raised believing one reality only for it to be all lies! She’s been trying to find answers, to figure it all out!”

“Be as that may, she still should have told me. If she had honestly thought that all dwarves outside of her people were capable of such hatred and deceit, she should have been upfront about it.”

“She has told me many times that she was trying to start anew, that she wanted to find happiness. She didn’t plan this, I know it! She honestly thought she would never see any of her people again, or even hear about them. I can’t imagine it, Uncle, I would want to run and forget if something ever happened to Kili in the manner it happened to her brother. And from what I have gathered, despite her regard to her father I don’t think they are a close family. She wasn’t raised with the love and support Kili, and I were blessed with. We were surrounded by friends that were supportive and we still had each other, You, Amad, Kili and I. We never, ever doubted that! I knew I could confide in you about anything that troubled me. She didn’t have that Uncle. We are the first ones, in her life, to truly have her back, to care for her no matter what.”

Thorin’s firm features softened slightly, as he nodded. Fili breathed in deeply, calming himself after his rant. “I know you have duty as King of Erebor, Uncle. I know that you have burdens I cannot begin to fathom, and honestly, I was starting to hope I would never would, that you and Mistlynn would start a family and you would have your true heir.”

Thorin’s look became sympathetic. He knew Fili never truly wanted to be heir apparent. But he had not been given any other choice.

“But I am begging you to not let the King Under the Mountain determine the outcome of this issue with Mistlynn. She is your One, and you both deserve happiness in this life, to live it together. You have always been a fearless leader, a good King. But in just this short time of being with Mistlynn she has made you a great King, whatever darkness that existed here before with Ugmil’adad, you have banished it from our Halls just by being happy, for placing love as a higher priority than anything else. Out of everything you have taught me, that is the one I want to strive to attain the most. To lead and live my life with love and family first.”

Thorin was at a loss for words. He cleared his throat, trying to clear away the tightness that was taking ahold of his throat. “There will never be a time where anything comes before my family. I let it happen once, and I swore it would never happen again.” His deep voice was thick with emotion.

Fili nodded stiffly. Thorin stepped towards him and pulled him into a bear hug. “I am so proud of you Fili. And of your brother. You two are amongst my greatest blessings in this life.” He stepped back, so that he could look Fili in the eyes. “I had to step away, I didn’t want to subject her to my temper. But that doesn’t mean that she still isn’t my priority, she is my wife and I’ll stand by her, always. Even if she isn’t fully standing by me.”

“She would never betray you.” Fili stated adamantly. “I know this whole situation with the Arkenstone possibly being the Iklal Kurdu is suspicious, but she has never shown any interest in seeing the treasury or the Arkenstone, I have only heard her sing once so if she was aware of some sort of ability…” Fili shook his head, clearly frustrated.

“I know, Fili.” Thorin agreed, his voice solemn. “I don’t think she was complacent in any of this. She is as much in the dark as we are. I talked to her this morning; all is well between us.”

Thorin couldn’t help the gentle smile that upturned the corners of his mouth at Fili’s obvious sigh of relief. The blonde prince shook his head, the beads in his hair clinking together at the movement. “You could have led with that, instead of letting me rant on like that.”

“I enjoyed hearing you come to Mistlynn’s defense. It makes me happy to see that she is loved by my family, so much so that they are willing to butt heads with me if necessary.” Thorin’s eyes twinkled as he patted Fili on his shoulder.

“I know you have a lot riding on your shoulders, and I will always stand by your side, but she is my friend. Knowing that you two are so evenly matched in temper its terrifying at times. I know what both of you are capable of.”

Thorin threw his head back and laughed. “You are not wrong about that, Fili.” He chuckled, savoring the brief moment of unburdened humor they were sharing in that moment.

“Was she able to tell you anything about her Amad being and Aria, or that she is one herself for that matter?” Flli asked after a brief pause, the cracking sound of the still ablaze forge fire reminding them both of where they were.

It was Thorin’s turn to shake his head dejectedly. “Unfortunately, no. She knows nothing. I think her Adad kept her abilities and those of her Amads from her. I don’t know how he did it, but she seems to question her own memories. And that worries me, that he holds that certain element of surprise.”

Fili frowned. “What are you going to do?”

“The only thing I can do.” Thorin mused darkly. “Expect everything while hoping that my suspicions are unwarranted.”

Heavy footsteps began to echo down into the corridor that surrounded the forges. Thorin shot Fili a weary look before he picked up the destroyed work bench and attempted to set it up right to diminish the appearance of chaos in the smaller space.

Fili stepped in to help clean up the strewn tools before their unannounced visitor arrived. They finished their quick cleaning sweep just as Dwalin walked in.

His expression was dark with a barely checked anger, his eyes flashing nearly black like sharpened obsidian. “There is an unknown army approachin the front gate. Both Bard ‘n Nori’s scouts ave confirmed they are dwarves, majority of em armed to the teeth with unknown markings painted on their faces. They are bein led ‘n flanked by at least a couple thousand riders on what appears to be dire wolves.”

Thorin grabbed a rag and wiped his hands on it as he processed Dwalin’s words.

“That is a lot of dire wolves.” Fili muttered as he looked between the two formidable warriors he and his brother had hero worshipped from the moment they took their first steps as dwarflings.

The dwarf King and his trusted Captain had a wordless conversation in just moments, a relationship even Fili struggled to fully understand the depth of. They were so in sync with one another, their honed skills and strategic ploys communicated solely by pointed looks and subtle chin tilt.

“Let everyone know to meet in the throne room in their best armor and armed, Fili.” Thorin ordered, his voice icily calm. “Let’s give them a proper Longbeard greeting.”

**********************

*Mistlynn*

It had happened so quickly; her mind was still reeling from the suddenness of it.

She had been with Dis and Rosalyn, trying to piece together what little she knew of her past. She had so many vast voids throughout her memory. So many things she was taught as fact didn’t even measure close to the truth once she started to question and dig further.
It was mind numbing work.

She was almost grateful for the reprieve.

If it wasn’t for the fact that she was coming face to face with whoever was leading this army of mysterious dwarven warriors. Deep down she knew it was, in fact, her people. The dire wolves were a dead giveaway. But she was still battling with what she thought she knew her father to be, and what unknown monster was facing her and Thorin now.
Innocent citizens of Erebor were dead, including the dams and their young.
It was a bitter blow, to accept that someone she had once thought she knew was capable of something so heartless and vile as pointless murder.

When Thorin and Balin had entered their sitting room, she had just known that it was all now coming to a head. There was no more time for speculating. The truth was fast approaching.

In a blur, she found herself dressed in a gown befitting the Queen of Erebor, an elaborate suit of armor in its own right with its intricate use of blue fabrics and flashes of sparking shards of mithril and diamond. She couldn’t help but feel as if she were a traitor to her status.

Despite the gowns comforting weight that fit her body like a leather glove, she found herself longing for the light scales and leather of her frost drake armor. The mithril chain she wore underneath her gown at Thorin’s insistence remained chilled against her skin as she moved through the corridors that lead to the Throne Room, where Thorin and everyone else awaited her and Dis’s arrival.

Thorin had left before her, surrounded by his closest advisors and friends and his elite guard to prepare for the arrival of their unwanted guests. Although they had talked that morning, there was still a lot that remained to be said. The tension was still there, albeit the understanding that now existed between them.

Her Adad had done many questionable things throughout her lifetime, yet she didn’t think he was capable of committing such acts of war. Thorin was convinced it was him, retaliating against their marriage or because of a supposed Ring of Power he obtained from her Gamul’adad that had enraptured his good sense. Her Adad had never worn jewelry, so this theory was very unlikely in her opinion.

“Are you ready, my dear?” Dis’s gentle inquiry brought her back to the present, standing before the doors that led into the Throne Room. The guards before her stood as still as statues, waiting for her signal she was ready to enter.

She heard the guards armor clank and rattle behind her as they came to a stop. She breathed in deeply, savoring the defeaning silence that surrounded her before facing this great unknown that loomed before her.

She nodded as she set her jaw resolutely. “Yes.” Was all she said as she took a bold step forward, and the guards moved immediately to open the door for them.

Her gaze instantly fell onto the thrones that sat prominently at the end of the hall, and just as quickly she found him.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him as she strode quickly towards where he stood by his throne, waiting for her to join him. Her crown felt heavy upon her head as she reminded herself to hold her head high, back ramrod straight with her gaze matching his intensity.

He was a truly imposing figure fully clad in his armor, Orcist strapped securely at his side with the Raven Crown perfectly displaying the power he held. He was the epitome of a living legend; his commanding presence filled the room. He was not a King to be trifled with, and she couldn’t help but pity the idiot that dared cross their borders and murder and steal from their people. She felt shame hit her at the thought it could very well be her own people guilty of such crimes. She hoped it was an extreme case of mistaken identity.

She ascended the steps as she reached the Dias of the thrones. She held his unwavering gaze as she took each step with a fierce grace until she was standing before him. He took her hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing the back of her knuckles reverently, catching her off guard with such public affection. He then led her towards her throne, motioning for her to sit first.

She blinked in surprise at this other public display of fealty towards her despite all that was coming to a head because of her and her ties. It was only after she was seated fully that he sat down on his. He looked over at her and gave her the briefest of smiles, wordlessly assuring her that all would be well, no matter what came through the doors.
She returned the gesture with a faint smile of her own before she looked back at the closed doors where a giant unknown was waiting. She took that moment of calmness before the awaiting storm to take in the room around her.

Fili and Kili were standing in the space between her and Thorin, along with the rest of the members of the company, all dressed in their finest armor and weapons.
Balin and Dwalin stood closer to Thorin's left, while Dis and Bifur stood at her right. The walkway of the room was lined with the heavily armed warriors of the elite guard on both sides. It was an impressive show of force.

She could feel her heartbeat throbbing through her limbs she looked ahead, dread settling in her stomach like a weight. She was about to come face to face with whoever was leading her Adad’s army, and that reality disturbed her. She forced herself to breath in, she could not allow herself to lose control like she did the morning prior. She was not facing this alone. Her One, his family, his friends, his kingdom were standing behind her, behind him.

No. It was their family, their friends, their kingdom. She scolded herself adamantly.
She was the fucking Queen of Erebor, for Mahal’s sake!

The immense doors were pushed open, and her grip on the armrests of her throne tightened. She watched impassively as the unknown approached, led by the intimidating elite warriors of Thorin’s guard. It wasn’t until the warriors that led in the visiting party stepped aside that she could clearly hear the hauntingly familiar voice. Her carefully constructed mask of indifference slipped, and she felt the color drain from her face.

He was sauntering towards them with a charismatic grin on his face.
His hair was as wild as hers had been when she first came to Erebor, the exact shade of her platinum and the same vivid, sea green eyes.

He was tall for a dwarf yet still held an impressive stance, built for speed and agility not unlike an Elf, but carried himself with a certain swagger that only a seasoned dwarf warrior could own. He wasn’t dressed in heavy armor. Rather, he was dressed in comfortable leather and light mail of an elven make, showing off his built physique obtained by countless years of obsessive training.

He was cocky and arrogant, riding a high she knew only a good hunt and resulting kill would give him. The thought made her sick.

He was speaking to the room with dramatic gestures of his arms as he bowed deeply before them. He had yet to look at her, instead speaking directly to Thorin with an animated excitement as eloquent greetings poured from him.

Thorin had yet to speak. He was studying their visitor with a predatorial intensity. If his look had been lethal, the dwarf before him would have been felled immediately.

“Valinn?” her tongue felt heavy as she was finally able to bring herself out of her shocked daze. It was only then that he turned to look at her, his grin broadening as his eyes sparkled with some unspoken secret.
It made her blood run cold. He had never smiled at her like that unless he had something devious planned.

He clapped his hands together as he chuckled. “Sister! Oh, it’s been so long! You look splendid! I must say I was a little perturbed I didn’t receive a wedding invitation. My feelings are hurt.” He placed a hand over his heart, pushing out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “Now, I understand I wasn’t your favorite brother, but I am your twin after all. Five minutes older is still five minutes!”

She cursed herself internally as she heard low mutters and whispers fall around her, and in the corner of her eye she caught a movement from Thorin as he shot her quick, questioning look. She couldn’t remember if she had told anyone about Valinn being her twin. She had barely mentioned him at all, come to think of it. She cursed herself for her shortsightedness regarding everything that had to do with her family and the White Kingdom. Maybe things could have been different. Perhaps all of this could have been prevented.
“You know why I didn’t send word.” She couldn’t help the irritability that crept into her voice as she glared back at him challengingly.

His eyes flashed as his smile grew wicked. “Here you are, all comfy and cozy in your very own mountain, leaving the rest of us in our drafty tents, gnawing on our goat legs. Right after you skipped out, a Drake swept through and wiped out our entire herd if you could believe it! It was quite inconvenient.”

“Where is father, Valinn?” she demanded, ignoring his rant.

“Oh, he’s here. He is just waiting until I am done.”

Thorin narrowed his eyes in suspicion. This exchange wasn’t sitting right. Something was off. If their father was the King, why was Valinn here in his stead? Thorin scanned Valinn’s warriors that stood behind him and noted a chest that was being held in their hands. “I fail to understand why it is you standing here and not your father, the King.” His deep voice projected.

Valinn threw his head back and laughed, before looking back at Thorin with awe evident on his face. “Oakenshield, right? Can I just say, Wow! You're voice! All that power you just …” he brought his hands up to his chest, clenched his fingers before throwing his arms away from himself. “Chills! Literal chills! You know, as a King myself, it would really benefit me to be able to really drive everything I say home. Since we are family now, you should really give me some pointers. After all that I’ve heard about you and your achievements, I have to say I am in awe of you. You are an enigma! But I’m sure your aware of that!”

Thorin’s frown deepened as his irritation at Valinn grew as he fought the urge to look at his wife when he heard Mistlynn’s intake of breath.

“What do you mean ‘as King’?” Mistlynn hissed.

“Now, now Sister. The men are talking. I do apologize, we did try to teach her manners. She was always too opinionated for her own good.” Thorin met Valinn’s stare and was immediately unnerved at how they were identical to Mistlynn’s. The more he looked, the more he realized the only thing they truly shared was their striking color. Where Mistlynn’s sparkled and radiated life from deep within them, Valinn’s were void of emotion, lacking in soul.

He felt unease settle around him as the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. It was as if he was looking into the eyes of a dead man, even Orcs had more life in their eyes. The sudden urge to protect Mistlynn from her brother overwhelmed him. And it was then, as he watched Valinn gesture as he spoke that he saw a ring on his right hand. A stone, as dark green as an ancient wood, glowed in the light of the massive room. It was encased in thick band of a white metal that looked suspiciously like mithril.

Thorin narrowed his eyes as he studied the ring acutely, and it was then that he felt it, the power that seemed to radiate from it, similar to the dark and eerie power that he used to feel whenever he looked at his Gamul’adad’s ring of power. He had never liked it, nor desired to touch or wear it. The last he had seen of it, it had been on his Adad’s hand, and it was the reason why he had been taken captive and killed. It was that ring that had helped bring back the evil that was now beginning to engulf their land once again.

Rage filled him at the realization. Mistlynn’s brother was being heavily influenced by their clan’s Ring of Power. It was more than likely one of the Rings that had disappeared from all knowledge centuries ago, thought lost in the ravages of time. Mistlynn’s ancestor had obviously taken it with him when he fled with his elf maiden and the refugees of their war-torn lands. It all made sense now.

He gripped the arms of his throne, his eyes slits as he glared at Valinn.

“You will no longer speak to my wife, the Queen. Any disrespect towards her will not be tolerated.” He growled as he stood up and stepped down closer to where Valinn stood, effectively blocking her with his body. He would not let the power of the ring touch her. He would see it tossed into the black abyss of the Lonely Mountain in a chained, weighted chest before letting it anywhere near her.
Valinn started to chuckle, tapping a finger against his chin as if trying to think of what he should say next. “If I remember correctly, are you not supposed to seek permission from the dam’s family before you take them as a wife? Mighty King Under the Mountain or not, that is very abysmal manners.”

Thorin sneered. “I need permission from no one. Last time I checked we are in my Kingdom, and you are trespassing not to mention raiding my mining villages and murdering my people.” His voice had reached an all-time low, his tone threatening.
Mistlynn heard growls come from behind her as she watched horrified as Valinn threw his head back, laughing with a hilarity that did not reach his eyes.

His lips curled into a sneer. “Oh, forgive me. I seemed to have struck a nerve. I’m not here to take her back, you can have the worthless whore for all I care. She has done nothing but bring death and ruin to my family and our kingdom.”

Thorin’s eyes became murderous at Valinn’s words, his body tensed as he drew himself to his full height as he glared down at his brother-in-law.

“I am actually here for you, oh, mighty Thorin Oakenshield, Son of Thrain, Son of Thror!” Valinn rolled his shoulders back, and tilted his head to the side, making him look crazed as he flashed his teeth in a wolfish grin. “My master has called for your head, and the head of your sister’s whelps.”

He gestured lazily back towards Fili and Kili who had vicious sneers on their faces.

“Naturally, you marrying my sister really angered him. We can’t have you Sons of Durin procreating all over the place. Especially if you were to sire a whelp to carry on your name. You were supposed to die in some battle, but you didn’t, and that really put a damper on his plans. So, he tried again, with an Orc that had a particular hard on for you apparently. Agog, or something to that affect I believe it was? So, he asked me to finish what everyone has failed to do. To come set your world ablaze, kill your kin, and mount your head on a spike to march all through Arda. And for my endeavors he promised me this kingdom! Allowing me to finally avenge the wrongs done to my ancestors by tyrannical dwarf lords who think they are better than us mere half breeds! Isn’t that just poetic?”

Valinn’s chuckle echoed around them as he watched Thorin’s face darken with a seething rage. “And there I go, monologuing again. Back to the important questions. Did she tell you, old boy? That she has elf blood running through her veins? Do you know what she really is? Of what she is capable of doing? I wouldn’t think you would want your precious Durin bloodline tainted with the likes of us filthy mutts! Too bad you won’t live long enough to worry about whether she’s carrying your little bastard now.”

Mistlynn was frozen to her seat in horror. She felt a hand grab her arm and pull her up. She found herself being held next to Bifur and Dis as Fili, Kili and the rest of the company stepped down to flank Thorin at Valinn’s taunting threat.

“Oh, I’m not going to do it now! So dramatic all of you!” Valinn crooned, waving off the angry dwarves that were standing behind Thorin with their weapons drawn. He hadn’t even given the guards with their weapons pointed at him and his warriors any notice.

“I was hoping to come here, extend some brotherly love. Maybe some bonding before we had to get down to the task at hand. You are my idol, after all! But I guess that was too much to hope for.” He sighed, as if emotionally pained. “Honestly, it’s nothing personal. But if you really want something in this life, you just have to seize the dragon by the balls and just take it for yourself. Am I right? You, out of anyone, should understand that.”

Thorin had remained silent as he studied Valinn as he ranted, his anger just barely simmering under the surface. When Thorin’s chuckle echoed through the room, it took everyone aback, even making Valinn raise a curious brow. “So, this so called…Master sends you? A prepubescent cur to do his dirty work? How…adorable.”

Valinn’s smile slid slowly off his face, a cold smirk taking its place as his eyes grew colder. “Now, that’s just rude. And here I was thinking I was going to give you both a belated wedding gift, out of the goodness of my heart.” He pouted. “Now I understand why they always tell you to never meet your heroes.”

Mistlynn shook her arm free from Bifur’s tight grasp and pushed her way through the dwarves so that she was standing alongside Thorin. “Adad would never allow this! What have you done Valinn!” She hissed through clenched teeth while she fought to shake off Thorin’s tight grip as he grabbed her to stop her from approaching her unhinged sibling.

Valinn’s deadened eyes fell upon her as a twisted smirk captured his lips. “And you, sister dearest. Just like your husband you have the uncanny ability to escape death. It’s annoying really.”

He started to step backwards, still facing the enraged couple.

“Imagine my surprise when we couldn’t find your body after that Proving. The dead Drake gave me pause; I must admit. It is impressive really that you managed to kill that mean bastard. But given what you are, I shouldn't have underestimated you as I did. It wasn’t a surprise, however, to find Argos all smashed to pieces. He had always been such a waste of air. But you!”

He waggled a finger at her as he shook his head and chuckled, “You were the one I was trying to dispose of. You were that last obstacle standing in my way. But you did me a favor by running away. All was going according to plan, that is until you went and aligned yourself with our enemy and spread your legs. It broke Adad, losing his precious son to a frost drake and his simpering daughter to a greedy Long Beard king. But what did surprise me is how fast he figured it out, that my men and I were behind it. For a moment I was worried that he would kill me!” he laughed.
“But in the end, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring himself to follow through with it. It is all so pathetic really, what loving someone does. As if you could call what he did to us love.” He wiped his eyes of the imaginary tears. “It’s funny, he told me that you would avenge them. That you would destroy me. ME?! As if your puny kingdom, pedigreed husband, and your ‘cute’ little army could ever TOUCH ME!” He screamed the last bit, his eyes glowing with a manic fire as spittle flew from his lips.

As his scream echoed around them, a slow, cruel smile crept across his face. “Forgive my poor manners. She always knew how to rankle me, she has a gift for it, fair warning!” he winked at Thorin, who was glowering at him with poorly concealed rage.
Mistlynn felt the breath seize in her chest at the look Valinn had on his face. She knew what that look meant. She didn’t even fight Thorin when he grabbed her by the arm and moved her behind him once again, as if knowing he had to protect her from what was about to come.

“And now, for your wedding gift.” Valinn motioned for his warriors to drop the chest, allowing him to put his foot on top of it. “You always have been a hard bitch to figure out, so I went for something that would really resonate with you. You know, a little reminder of where you come from, and what end awaits you.”

With a powerful shove of his foot, the chest skidded before catching on the stone floor and flipping to its front. The unlatched lid flew open, and an object flew out, rolling across the floor towards them.

The object stopped rolling as it hit Thorin’s boot, the long white hair and braided beard was matted and encrusted with dried blood, clouded eyes stared unseeing at them, mouth agape in a silent, never-ending scream.

Mistlynn faintly registered Thorin’s grip tighten on the arm he still held in his grasp as the sound of Orcist being drawn cut through the air. Shouts of alarm fell around her, distant and jumbled, as she stared at the severed, decaying head of her Adad. She heard Thorin snarl viciously at her brother, only evoking a chilling, gleeful laugh from him.

“Mistlynn, come with me.” Fili was suddenly behind her, trying to lead her away from the horror that was playing out in front of her eyes. It was sudden, the searing hatred that grabbed ahold of her, starting deep in her gut and in a furious blaze rising into her chest.

She gritted her teeth, eyes becoming slits as she became tunnel visioned, narrowing in on Valinn, still laughing as if this was all a joke they could bond over.

It was pure instinct, to act on that hatred.

She seized Fili’s wrist tightly while she grabbed the handle of his dagger sheathed at his side. With a lethal accuracy, the dagger flew from her fingertips and towards her Valinn’s head.

Her brother unsheathed his sword with lightning speed and swatted the dagger from the air, sending it clattering onto the ground, spinning rapidly, and flying off the edge of the walkway and falling into the vast lower caverns of Erebor.

“You murderer!” she screamed, “Your life is forfeit and mine to take, you wretched piece of filth!”

Valinn held his arms wide open, his blade still held aloft in his hand. “That temper of yours, sister! It is most unbecoming of your newly attained rank. You don’t want to embarrass our esteemed King here now, do you? Not like he can request a refund and all since you’ve undoubtedly been defiled by him and his seed.”

“Enough!” Thorin roared as he placed a firm arm around Mistlynn’s waist and threw her behind him, into the waiting arms of Fili and Kili. Dwalin along with the rest of the company stepped forward, weapons raised and at the ready. Mistlynn continued to struggle, screaming the most spiteful insults in Khuzdul that would make any seasoned warrior blush.

“You are gravely mistaken if you think you can come in here and threaten me, my family, my kingdom and still walk away with your head attached.” Thorin seethed, his deep tenor deceptively calm and gravelly as he held Orcist tight in his grip, lowered and ready to strike at his side.

Valinn giggled impishly. “You are absolutely right! It would be so foolish of me to waltz in here and throw my father’s head at you without a backup plan! Talk about awkward! But I have been planning this very moment for a very, very long time. I have dreamt of it, and I have the best countermeasure to your threat. You see, if I do not walk out of this mountain with my head attached, as you so eloquently put it, your cousin and his people will become a buffet for my 5,000 dire wolves that are camped outside of the Iron Hills. If they do not receive word from me by nightfall, their blood will be on your head. And the line of Durin, in its entirety will be wiped from the face of this land.” He licked his teeth, savoring the promise he spoke on his tongue before grinning wickedly.

“You have until the morning to surrender. If you and your sister son’s do not come to me by sunrise tomorrow, I will lay waste to this mountain, every dam, every child will become feed for my wolves. And I will graciously slit that pretty, pale neck of my sisters from ear to ear in front of your eyes before I mercifully take your head.”

Chapter Text

"Get her out of here now!"

She heard Thorin bark the command as she fought against Fili and Kili as she glared with a seething hatred at the retreating back of her twin brother. He was being escorted out of the Throne room by the guards and an incensed Dwalin.

"Let me go!" Her growl was feral as she tried to claw Fili and Kili's arms off her.

"Lass, get ahold of yourself!" Balin implored. "There is nothing you can do at this moment."

Her jaw was clenched so hard, she could feel her teeth grinding as she fought to control her racing heart. "Please." Her gaze landed back on her father's head, left where it had come to rest on the floor.

She couldn't make out the soothing words Fili and Kili were trying to comfort her with as she watched Thorin drape a cloth over the head while Bifur and Bofur grabbed the chest it had been held in.

"Let's get you back to your rooms with a nice calming cup of tea." She heard Dori suggest gently.

"No!" she cried, "I will not be sent to my room! This is my mess; I need to take care of this. He is my brother. I need to fix this." The words tumbled from her lips in a furious desperation.

"You will do no such thing." She heard Thorin's deep tenor as he approached her quickly. "I want you back in our quarters with Dis. I need to meet with the war council and get this handled as soon as possible."

Her heart jumped into her throat, her eyes beseeching him with her eyes swimming with tears of fear and shock. "No please I don't want you going anywhere near him. Let me go talk with my people. My father was respected by everyone, they cannot be supportive of this."

'We have 5,000 warriors on dire wolves outside of our gates currently and another 25,000 in the plains between us, Dale and Mirkwood. They are following him Mist; he is in full control of that army." Thorin was standing closer to her now, looking at her with a pained yet infuriated grimace on his face.

"Just let me go. I'll stop this. No one else must die."

"YOU ARE NOT LEAVING THIS MOUNTAIN AND THAT IS FINAL!" His deafening roar made the tears leak from her eyes as she stopped fighting and bowed her head in silence. She felt herself go limp as she struggled to take in a deep breath, to steady her reeling thoughts. She was torn between gut wrenching grief and a soul searing rage, she felt it all at once. She heard him sigh heavily before he approached her. He took her from his nephew's arms and led her away for some privacy.

"Mahal Mistlynn." She heard him whisper as he pulled her into a tight hug. She couldn't help the sob that escaped her lips as she melted into him, making his hands grip her tighter in response. "I am so sorry M'eudail."

"I knew it wasn't my father." Her tongue felt heavy and thick in her mouth as she ground out the words.

"I wish you didn't have to see him like that." He whispered into her neck.

"I didn't think Valinn could be capable of this. He was always a blood thirsty tyrant but … not this." Her grip on him tightened as she fought to keep the pain from her voice. She felt his hands travel from her back to cup her face. He brought his forehead to rest against hers so that he could look into her eyes.

"He will pay for this treachery. I promise you." His voice was low and sharp, she didn't doubt the conviction of his word.

"He is here to kill you and your family. Not me. He's a ruthless fighter and does not fight fair. Please, there must be another way." This time, her voice shook. He lowered his lips to hers, still holding her face in his hands. It was a kiss full of unspoken apologies, for the past and for what had yet to occur. She trembled as her fingers clenched onto his armored chest, anchoring herself to him.

"I need you to go back to our rooms with Dis, I will come to you as soon as I can." He whispered against her lips before pulling back to place another kiss on her forehead. She staggered as he stepped back. "Please M'eudail." His pleading whisper was loud enough only for her to hear.

She let out a shaky breath again before nodding in resignation. "I'll wait for you."

He spared her one last regretful glance before his expression morphed into an enraged determination. He turned to face the rest of the room. "Dori, Bifur. Please escort the Queen and the Lady Dis to my chambers. I want you to stay with them until I return. The rest of you, with me."

***********************************************************

Later that evening…

Mistlynn felt guilty that she was not quite capable to hold any kind of conversation with her companions that had not left her side once, per Thorin's instruction. Dis had embraced her the moment they had reached the room. She wished she could just give in to her sorrow and cry on her friend's shoulder, she knew that Dis knew loss well. But she couldn't bring herself to do that.

She had remained by the window seat for the rest of the day, keeping a distance from her companions. A numbness had settled within her, she was unable to process all the feelings that were trying to emerge as the hours passed.

Now that she knew it was Valinn who had orchestrated Argo's death, she felt lost in a raging tide of anger and hate that was beginning to numb her from every other emotion that tried to emerge. Valinn had murdered Argos and their comrades by sabotaging their weapons and sending them after a giant, angry frost drake.

The loss of Argos, that gaping void of a wound in her very soul had been ripped open violently. All else was lost to her, and she felt the unbridled desire for revenge simmering hot beneath her skin, making her fingers twitch and tingle as she could picture running Valinn through with her own swords vividly.

Her Adad's violent murder kept surging up, adding fuel to the unslakable thirst for retribution by her own hand. No one else's. Just hers.

She had loved her Adad, as a daughter should. But he never voiced any such feeling towards her as she grew up. She had pushed herself beyond her limits to get a reaction out of him, some sort of acknowledgement that he was proud of her achievements, since she had failed him and her Amad and was removed from the line of succession.

She couldn't remember what it was that she had done, no matter how hard she tried to conjure that memory up. All she knew is that her Amad had gone into early labor, and she had been the cause of it. Or so she was told.

She had been desperate to make up for it, but that approval had never come. That was why she had just exiled herself after Argo's untimely death, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that if she had come back without Argos or any of the warrior's she would of have faced his wrath, and worst of all his further disappointment in her.

She didn't know if grief was what she should be feeling in regard to her Adad. It wasn't as soul crushing as Argo's had been and still was in that very moment.

Anger didn't seem justified either. It was a cruel sense of irony that it had turned out to be Valinn who had turned on his own Adad and killed him in cold blood. He along with Argo's were the only ones he had ever claimed and praised openly.

All these thoughts ran through her mind on endless repeat, trying to make some sense out of any of it. She was being thrashed about from one emotion to the next, tossed about like a rudderless raft on an angry sea.

All she knew, for certain, was that Valinn was the enemy; the threat that needed to be eradicated immediately. No matter the cost.

Obviously. She scoffed to herself.

And no matter her Adad's abysmal parenting skills, he didn't deserve to die in such a gross manner. Just the fact alone that it was her twin brother, now a kin murdering psychopath, leading her father's army to threaten and take away all that she held dear, was soul numbing.

Dis had begun to pace, no longer able focus on her needlepoint.

Dori and Bifur still wore their armor and hovered close to the door. Dori and Dis had been keeping the small talk going, trying to keep the atmosphere light, while Bifur was still watching her still figure, worry evident in his expressive eyes.

She couldn't bring herself to even communicate with Bifur, who had become more like a surrogate father to her.

Mistlynn admired Dis for her fortitude and strength.

Here she was, thinking of ways how to drive her swords through Valinn's chest in the most creative of ways possible. And then, there was Dis, whose brother and sons lives were being threatened by said mad man and kin murdering psychopath, talking about ways to convince Bilbo to come and encourage more dwarves towards developing green thumbs for gardening from within the mountain as it had once been done in the glory days of Khazad-dum.

She could not let one of her new family anywhere near Valinn. Each childhood memory, every interaction she had of any consequence she tore apart, searching for any indicator of his impending bloodlust. He had always enjoyed the hunt, a little too much for her taste. He had never showed their father any disrespect, but he had always had a following of the more radical warriors that skulked in the shadows.

And now, came the guilt of abandoning her Adad, leaving him to such a fate made her physically ill. She had allowed Valinn to murder him just as she had let him murder Argos. And she had run away, like a coward.

Her gut clenched and churned as she fought to keep the tears from her eyes. She was done crying, she had too much at stake now. She would avenge Argos, her Adad and all those innocents who perished by his sword. She would gut his wolf before his very eyes before she would take his head and feed it to the crows.

Her eyes narrowed in determination at the vow she made herself. Even if he hated her at the end, she would protect Thorin and his kingdom at any cost, even when she knew in the end it was going to cost her dearly.

Thorin came through the door, interrupting the idle talk. No one spoke as he walked in, his steps slow and deliberate. "The others will fill you both in, thank you for staying with them." He nodded in gratitude towards Dori and Bifur. They bowed in return. "It was our honor." Was Dori's solemn reply before he and Bifur left.

Dis approached him, trying to keep her worry from showing on her face. "What has been decided?" she asked softly.

"We have word from Dale and Mirkwood pledging their aid. Rohan is too far to give any immediate assistance, but they are sending what they can. Rivendale is waiting, apprised of the situation and they will be on standby."

Dis nodded at his, her face relaxing a bit at the knowledge their allies were coming. She cleared her throat, speaking lowly. "She hasn't said much. Hasn't moved from the window. I am worried."

Thorin nodded his understanding. "We ride out to engage them at dawn. Go see your boys. I'll see you in the morning."

Dis embraced him tightly before placing a kiss on his cheek. "I love you, brother." Thorin gave her an affectionate squeeze before murmuring he loved her back.

His gaze fell upon Mistlynn's unmoving figure, waiting to hear his door shut behind Dis before he started to walk towards his wife.

Mistlynn was staring at him, her arms crossed in a defensive pose. "Let me go with you."

Thorin shook his head firmly as he approached. "I can't have you in harm's way. It will distract me, and I cannot be distracted tomorrow."

"I know him, and I know how he fights. Let me help."

"He would use you to get to me, M'eudail."

Her eyes flashed. "Let me try to talk to my people! I know he doesn't hold all allegiance. My father was respected by the people. Valinn will be despised among the ranks even if they do continue to follow. They don't have any other choice."

"You can't be sure of that."

"I was sure it wasn't my Adad leading those raids. And I was right."

Thorin sighed in exasperation as he rubbed the back of his neck wearily. "You were right about that, yes. But this is different. This is war Mistlynn. I cannot have you on the field with me."

"It doesn't have to come to war. Thorin, our army has never fought in a battle. We have only ever fought against drakes or snow bears."

"That didn't stop them from laying waste to our mining towns or taking the lives of our subjects. And when most of them are riding Dire wolves and used to slaying frost drakes, I don't think they have much to fear."

"A dire wolf mount does not make them invincible; they know that. When they come face to face with your warriors, and those of Dale and Mirkwood …" she bit her bottom lip, trying to reign in her worry. "I'm sorry Thorin, I just know most of them are young, with little to no battle experience. They won't stand a chance against seasoned warriors. Valinn is counting on his numbers only, not skillset. Dire wolves will only get him so far. He doesn't know of your experience with Wargs, Dire wolves will be no different. You have experience on your side."

"I am focusing solely on Valinn and his ring leaders." Thorin brushed rogue curls away from her eyes before tracing her jaw with his fingers. "I will have his tongue for the despicable way he talked to you. For the filthy names he called you. And for all the lives he took, including Argos and your father." The underlying rage disguised by his calm tenor made shivers run through her.

"It's nothing new Thorin. Such words are meaningless coming from him."

"Such words should have never been uttered to you, and in such frequency that they lost the sting of their poison. His behavior towards you is appalling. I never understood why you were so guarded, so defensive of every kind work spoken to you, until today." He caressed her cheek before burying his hand in her hair on the back of her neck, his other hand splayed on the small of her back. "Never again." He pledged before placing a tender kiss to her lips.

She trembled at the softness of the kiss, she could feel the love pouring from him and soaking into her skin. Her eyes fluttered shut as she breathed him in, allowing herself this quiet moment to memorize the taste and feel of him. Her hands gripped his shoulders as they lost themselves in the kiss, as they so often did.

Their fights were heated, but it gave way to a deeper passion that held way more meaning.

"I'm sorry for what I said about the other day. It wasn't fair of me. I was just so…" she began as she forced herself to break away from his lips.

He shook his head, cupping her jaw and bringing her lips back to his before resting his forehead against hers. "Don't M'eudail. It wasn't fair of me to bring you into that without warning. I shouldn't have let my anger lead me that day. You come first, before everything else."

"No Thorin, you were right. I should have told you. I shouldn't have let my fear control me. I was just so certain I would never hear from them again, that Adad was okay…" she stopped mid-sentence as her voice started to become choked. "I still can't believe that Valinn killed him, killed Argos! I can't…" She breathed in deeply, pushing the wave of pain back down. She shook her head before looking up into Thorin's concerned gaze. "Now isn't the time. We don't have the time…"

"You have me tonight." He whispered lovingly into her hair as he rubbed her back,

"And when I return from burying Valinn six feet under you will have all the time you need to work through this. I am here for you."

She couldn't stop the tears from escaping as they fell down her cheeks unchecked.

"Still? After everything I did, what I kept from you?"

"Yes, Mistlynn." He sighed heavily as he continued to run his hands up and down her back soothingly. "Fili talked to me, after he spoke with you yesterday. I have my own things I need to work on when it comes to us. I have my own ghosts, and you have yours. We are just going to have to work together to navigate this."

She nodded as she felt guilt churn in her chest. She wished with all she was that they had more time to live this life together. But with what she had to do; it couldn't be. She just hoped it wouldn't destroy him, this one last secret she had to keep from him. It was for him, for their family, for their friends, for Erebor.

For all the innocents from her kingdom that had been lied to and misled, misguided for their entire lives for centuries. A deep burning anger churned with the guilt, making her clench her jaw in a sudden wave of furious despair. It wasn't fair, how her brother was robbing her of her life, all because of his greed, his twisted aspirations.

Thorin nuzzled her jaw, mistaking her inner turmoil for sorrow. He wasn't wrong in that sense; it was just over the wrong thing.

"I'll come back to you Mistlynn. This isn't my first battle I've faced, nor will it be the last."

"I know." Her whisper was faint as she raised her hand up to the side of his face before running her fingers down the braids starting at his temple. She played with the wedding beads she had given him, the ones that were her parents that she had always carried around her neck to keep them close. She hoped he would draw comfort from them after tomorrow, to have a piece of her to carry with him in this life as a reminder of the beautiful, fragile thing they shared between them.

Her chest ached; her sorrow was so heavy on her heart. She hoped this one last night with him would give her the strength she needed to power through tomorrow and give her the courage to do what needed to be done. She was her Amad's daughter; she would not bow at the brink of defeat and despair.

"Make love to me Thorin." She breathed in the underside of his jaw before tasting his skin with a flick of her tongue before caressing again with her lips. She could feel his groan rumble in his chest under her hands as she slowly pushed his heavy jacket from his shoulders, making it fall into a heavy heap on the floor.

"Are you sure?" he tilted her chin up to look up at him, his touch gentle.

"Yes, Thorin. You're the only thing in my life I am sure of. I need you. I need to feel you around me; to feel you inside me. Make me forget everything else but us." Her tone became desperate as she clung to him, her need for him sudden and all-consuming, aching for his touch in every sense.

His brow furrowed in concern. "Mist…" he began.

"Please Thorin. We will talk later, I promise." The words came out choked as she grasped his face in her hands, then guided his lips to hers with a desperate fervor.

He gave in under her ministrations, letting her take what she needed. Where she ripped his shirt and trousers off with a savagery bordering an anguish, he felt emitting from her very touch, he calmly removed her dress with worshiping hands, caressing the curves of her body.

************************************************************

The next morning.

He awoke with a start.

The room was dark and cold, the fire reduced to glowing embers in the hearth. He went to rub his face with his hand but found his hands restrained above his head. "What in Mahal's name…Mistlynn?" he called into the dark room.

He squirmed to sit up quickly, his hands were bound firmly at the wrists, the rope was over the back of the headboard and appeared to be weighted down with something heavy. He pulled hard with an angry growl trying to lift the weight up over the headboard. He was met with an unyielding resistance as whatever it was got stuck against the bed and stone wall.

He scanned the room, his eyes adjusting to the dark. She was gone. Luna too. His heart leapt into his throat at that realization. Last night was her goodbye, she had been planning to go face her brother alone.

An enraged growl ripped from his throat as he threw his body forward, desperate to get free from his bindings. "MISTLYNN!" he bellowed as the headboard rattled with the force of the weight. For several moments, he fought against them in vain.

He chuckled darkly, despite the situation he found himself in. She was determined and resourceful, his wife. If he was being honest with himself, he had been expecting her to try something, but this took it to a whole different level.

The skin on his wrists protested at he renewed his struggle savagely. He turned around on his back to plant his feet against the headboard and threw his full weight back, pulling with his whole strength. The bed rattled and groaned in protest but refused to break. He bit out a savage curse as he wrapped the rope several times around his forearms and heaved backwards. He heard several loud cracks as the headboard rattled under the immense pressure, but still refused to give in.

"GUARDS! He bellowed as he started to kick his feet against the headboard. He knew the probability of him being heard through the thick rock walls was slim to none.

He ignored the burning bite of the rope on his wrists as he kicked and thrashed, praying that Dwalin or Balin would notice his tardiness sooner rather than later so that he could intercept Mistlynn before she reached Valinn.

********************************************************

Meanwhile...

"He is late." Balin paced in the armory. "Most irregular."

Thorin's most trusted circle of warriors and advisors were waiting dressed in their full armor, their worry growing as the minutes passed.

"Maybe he's saying goodbye to Mistlynn?" Kili grimaced uncomfortably.

"He would have done that last night lad." Gloin grumbled, shooting Dori a reproachful glare as he was elbowed in retort.

"Maybe he slept in?" Bofur offered a very unlikely scenario.

"How about we draw straws for who gets to go retrieve him." Nori suggested, none too eager at the idea of having to go interrupt whatever it was that was keeping their King.

"Och, ye bunch of ninnies!" Dwalin growled. "I'll go fetch him!"

Fili ran quickly after Dwalin. "It's not like Uncle to be late for anything, especially for battle!"

"It's not. Either she's changing his mind on the entire thing…"

"Doubtful." Fili growled.

"…Or somethin' is wrong." Dwalin finished as they picked up their pace towards the royal chambers.

****************************************************

Fili rushed to the doors, pausing momentarily, bracing himself for whatever was to greet him on the other side of the doors before he pushed them open.

The sitting room was dark, however now they could hear muffled shouts of colorful Khuzdul curses coming from the other side of the bedroom doors. Dwalin and Kili looked at each other with their eyebrows raised.

"You first lad, blood thicker an all tha'." Dwalin shoved him forward.

"Me? You're his cousin! And you've known him longer!"

Dwalin huffed in relented irritation as he walked up to the door and banged his fist loudly against them. "Thorin! Yer late! The whole war council is awaitin!"

"Dwalin! Get in here now!" Eyes widening in surprise, they burst through the door after hearing his livid shout with their weapons drawn. They were not expecting to see a naked Thorin, panting heavy in exertion as he fought against the rope that bound his hands to the now wrecked headboard.

"Witches teeth! What is going on!" Dwalin growled in surprise as he and Fili rushed to cut Thorin's hands free.

"She bound me to the bed when I was asleep and left Mahal knows when." Thorin spat as he flew out of the destroyed bed and started to quickly dress. "Luna is gone, her weapons are gone. She has gone ahead of us!"

Fili felt the color drain from his face. "She's confronting him." The words were heavy and sour on his tongue.

"The Lass is goin ta get herself bloody killed." Dwalin cursed as he quickly grabbed Orcist as Thorin finished pulling his boots on.

Thorin continued to growl curses and threats under his breath as he finished getting ready. He grabbed Orcist from Dwalin's outstretched hand and rushed out of the room, with Dwalin and Fili following closely on his heels.

*****************************************************

He was so angry he could barely think, let alone see straight. He couldn't believe she had managed to sneak out with Luna without one person seeing her. Dwalin was thoroughly berating the guards that were on duty. They swore not one soul had left Erebor, let alone the Queen and her Dire Wolf.

It didn't take long for Thorin to put on his battle armor, only adding to his thunderous and intimidating presence. Everyone who knew him could sense his seething ire was a carefully crafted disguise for the fear that was threatening to paralyze him. She was out there, alone, to face her maniac brother.

The stress in the room was palatable. While the wise guarded their words, others allowed their fear and outrage to float on the surface.

"This is most suspicious." One of the council members blustered. He was the only one who was even daring to speak up about the queen. "We knew nothing of her kingdom, she volunteered no intel, nothing! And now we have a massive army just outside our gates breathing down our necks, threatening the lives of our king and his heirs. The timing of it all seems so … convenient."

Thorin paused as the room became deathly still and quiet. "What…exactly…are you implying?" his tone was quiet, measured. It was deceiving, and everyone knew it. Everyone knew of the saying, 'beware of the still waters, for they run deep and wicked cold.'

Balin stood and walked towards the councilman and the King, knowing full well he was near his breaking point. Thorin turned slowly to face the room as he finished strapping Orcist to his side.

He adjusted his gauntlets before raising his eyes to stare at the offending dwarf. "Are you saying my One, the Queen, helped instigate our current political entanglement?" His eyes were slits, cutting into the shorter councilman as he towered over him.

"Come now, you were so open and honest with your thoughts just moments ago? And you now have my undivided attention." He clenched his gloved hands into fists, drawing the dwarves' wide eyes to them.

"Forgive me, my King. I misspoke. I am just concerned for our people."

"My WIFE is currently out there trying to take control of her brother's army for the sake of our people and allies, and she is alone. She is a warrior, bound in honor to me and our kingdom and you dare question her fealty? You are wasting my time spouting such heresy from your mouth when you know absolutely nothing." He seethed menacingly as he took another step closer.

The dwarf bowed his head, unable to hold the Kings gaze. "Forgive me, your majesty." His voice trembled.

"Is there anyone else here who wants to waste my time with meaningless talk and baseless accusations, or shall we go to the Queen's aide and put her brother in his place?"

Chapter Text

*Mistlynn

It had been difficult to sneak out, but many years of practice aided her success. She had managed to distract the guards as she and Luna had silently slipped out under the cover of darkness.

Luna ran with neck breaking speed through the tall grass, until she could see the countless tents of her people. She slid off Luna's back noiselessly. "Stay Luna." She stroked her head comfortingly. "I need to start looking for my father's loyalists."

She drew her hood up over her head, casting her kohled eyes and cheekbones into shadows as she slunk effortlessly through the grass. Several Dire Wolves were resting on the outskirts of the massive silent camp. Dawn was quickly approaching, the darkness of the night gradually fading into a steely gray as the sky lightened.

She was crouched close to the ground, observing the wolf sentries to see if she recognized any of them from their distinctive markings of their coats. It was pointless to remove her bow from its position on her back if she maimed one it would instantly alert the others, and she would be overpowered in seconds.

She took a deep breath in through her nose as she weighed her only option, and that was entirely based on the hope that she would be favored over her brother. She shivered with dread, hoping her brother was despised more than her.

Dire wolves chose their dwarven riders and were treated with reverence and equality. They were fiercely loyal companions and would fight to the death for their rider. If a rider was lost in battle, the wolf would rarely, if ever, bond with another. They would remain with the kingdom, as a pack, following orders from the King and his Alpha dire wolf. In rare cases they would go rogue.

She felt the dread settle in her gut, Valinn's white wolf, Olos, had a notorious mean streak and couldn't be more different than her beloved Luna, even though they were litter mates. The cruelty of that correlation was not lost on her, it had been in front of her this entire time, and she had been too blind, too distracted by her own goals and daydreams to see the vileness that Valinn had dwelling in his heart. Now, it remained to be seen if his darkness had spread to the rest of her people, and consequently the Dire Wolves of her kingdom.

She slunk forward, stealthily like a predator towards the edge of the grassy field that was cloaking her. The wind was blowing towards her, shielding her scent from the wolves' acute senses.

The wolf directly before her lay resting with its head resting on its crossed front paws, and as she got closer, she could make out its russet mask and back that blended it with a thick creamy white fur on its muzzle, chest, and legs. Her throat tightened as she recognized Argo's wolf, Caran. Her heart quickened as she remembered the drake's tail striking and throwing Caran across the ice-covered lake. She had just assumed that he had been killed on impact.

She pursed her lips, and whistled quietly, making Caran's ears perk up in alertness. His golden eyes instantly found her dark shadowed figure, and their eyes met. She half expected a growl of warning to ripple from the wolf's muzzle but was instead greeted with a soul-searching gaze. The wolf rose slowly and approached; head held low inquisitively.

"Caran." She soothed, only loud enough for the wolf's ear to catch. Caran stopped at the edge of the field, only inches away from where she was concealed.

She heard a faint whimper before Caran tongue flicked out, wetting the fur of his muzzle. "I need to stop him." She whispered. "I need to find those who will stand with me."

The russet-colored Dire wolf eyes were keen, brimming with knowledge beyond his years. An old soul, as Argos had been. Caran lowered his head, not taking his gaze off Mistlynn before he turned and started to walk back towards the camp.

The other Dire wolves turned their attention towards Caran, watching him disappear into the camp.

Mistlynn held her breath, not quite sure if she should follow the wolf or not. She rocked slightly on the balls of her feet, still crouched as close as possible to the ground. Her eyes traveled the outskirts of the camp, seeking an entry point before she saw Caran coming back towards her, a couple of crouched warriors following silently behind him.

"Princess, we had hoped you would come." She heard a deep tone whisper, as the three cloaked figures stopped close to her hiding place. They pulled their hoods back, revealing their identities. They were some of her fathers most trusted warriors.

"I am not your Princess, the King made sure of that." Her eyes narrowed as she studied the dwarves before her. "How did you survive my brother?" she whispered suspiciously.

"Many of your father's guard was slain. The king knew he would not survive the fight with Valinn. He told us to remain in the shadows, to feign fealty to Valinn until you came back to take your rightful place as our Queen." The leader, Markos, spoke with such conviction she had to control the emotion that threatened to choke her. She could only hope that after her and Valinn's death, Thorin would offer asylum to those who would survive this impending massacre.

"How many side with him?"

"Many serve because Valinn has threatened the lives of their family's and somehow has manipulated many of the riders. Once we inform them of your return, more than half will rally to you."

"Even though I was removed from the line of succession, and left in disgrace?"

"The disgrace is not yours to bear, but Valinn's and his alone. He is unworthy his own breath, he must atone for the murder of your brother and father, and of all those he has killed in the name of Sauron."

Mistlynn felt her blood turn to ice. "Sauron? Surely you are mistaken."

Markos shook his head grimly. "He has been corrupted by the ring of your forefathers and of the ilk your grandfather aligned with. He stole it from your mothers possessions, and your father did not know of it until it was too late, after Argos was dead, and you gone. Valinn and his generals are under the control of the dark lord, and he is using us as his means to control the North while his allies begin their invasion of the West."

Mistlynn felt a familiar anger flow through her veins as her mind raced with this new information. She couldn't allow herself to get distracted. "He must be stopped; he cannot be allowed to touch my husband or his family. If the dark lord wants them dead, that it exactly what must be prevented, at all costs. And it must be done quickly. Their lives take precedence, even over mine."

Markos's brows furrowed in abhorrence. "Surely, your husband does not consent to this…"

"He does not know and will never know we spoke of this. Valinn will die this day by my hand, and you know he won't let me walk this earth beyond him. It will take everything that I am to ensure his death." Her voice was flat, emotionless. The perfect warrior her Adad had molded with her harsh upbringing. She couldn't allow herself to let the weight of this sink in her bones.

Markos studied her, as if seeing her as she truly was for the first time. He had always seen her as the princess, her parents precious daughter, the reincarnation of her mother despite the Kings dismissal of her. Now, here she was before him; a warrior Queen, unyielding and unafraid to protect those who she loved most and save her people. To right all the wrongs that had been done in her absence. "Very well. I will honor your wishes. Your mother's spirit lives on through you, she would demand the same."

The three males nodded in silent agreement. "We will spread the word immediately. Stay hidden and we will send Caran to you once it has been done, and we shall confront the scum."

Mistlynn nodded, her eyes ablaze with a regal fire. Soon her family and their honor will be avenged. "I need you to make haste, we must turn the tides against Valinn before my husband comes with his army in search of me."

"His assistance would be advantageous, Valinn would have no choice but to surrender." Markos felt the need to try, one last time, to steer her away from this path of sacrifice.

"No, I must have Valinn's blood spilt into the earth below us before my husband even sets foot here. This is our battle and ours alone. We must contain this before Erebor, Dale, and Mirkwood even raise arms. We must be swift so that we can prevent bloodshed in the Iron Hills, word must be sent as soon as possible for them to stand down and convene here."

"I understand. Await my signal."

**************************************************

As dawn approached, the tent city began to stir with life.

Mistlynn watched from afar as she sat prepared on Luna's back. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she controlled to fight her hands from shaking. Each passing moment meant Thorin was closer to reaching them, she knew how resourceful he was when properly motivated. She also knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that being tied to the bed by his wrists would be plenty of motivation, and he would be livid at her blatant defiance.

If she was to save her people, the innocent, the young warriors fighting for her brother only to save their own families from his maniacal threats and coercion, she had to overthrow Valinn before Thorin and their allies reached them.

They may be many, but she knew they didn't stand a chance in comparison to Erebor's battle tried and true warriors.

She heard raven's crying out above her, prompting her to look up in the painted sky as the sun rose above the horizon. Hundreds of ravens flew above her and the camp in a perfect circle. She cursed under breath. Thorin was on his way and was sending his loyal eyes ahead to scout.

She looked from the sky back towards the camp, to see Caran standing at the edge of the camp, staring in her direction. She prompted Luna forward urgently. "It's now or never Luna."

She wasn't sure what to expect as she rode into camp, following Caran's lead. She kept her hood up, but she knew by the way the people stopped and stared at her as she rode past that they knew who she was.

It was odd to see her people in light gear, less bulky and agile in their finely fitted armor of tanned leather and frost drake scales. She also noted that many now carried Dwarven iron, finely made swords, axes and hammers, and it hit her with a renewed force that her people had the blood of Erebor's innocent subjects on their hands.

Her stomach clenched and soured at the thought. Mutters and whispers of awe and hope spread like wildfire as many of the warriors followed her as she followed Caran to what she knew was Valinn's tent.

As she came to the front of the encampment, in front of Valinn's fine tent she noticed an alarming amount of her father's warriors along with their Dire wolves were gathered, heavily armed on both sides of her. Markos was at the forefront, sending her an affirmative nod.

They were all gathered.

Now was the time.

She clenched her jaw as she looked ahead, taking note of the menacing warriors that stood in front of her brother's tent with their own wolves standing at attention. They had a lethal look about them; a dark presence was oozing from within them as they stared coldly at her as if she was a pest to be exterminated.

She grabbed her hood and pulled it back, revealing herself to them as she sat proud and regal upon Luna's back. Her hair was styled in an intricate warrior's braid down the center of her head to proudly showcase her marriage braids and beads, giving her a vicious yet refined appearance as khol smoked out her eyes, making their shade of green glow with a fierce light. On the sides of her face, a paint the color of Durin's blue ran down from her temples to the edge of her jaw in jagged lines.

"Inform my brother that I am here and require his immediate presence." She spoke with an icy, hard tone.

"You are foolish to come here alone." One of Valinn's mean growled menacingly, a cruel snarl twisting his lips into a sadistic smirk.

Olos, emerged from within the tent, his large stature silent and lethal like that of a predator. His snow-white muzzle split into a low snarl, a menacing growl rumbling from the wolf's powerful chest.

Mistlynn could feel Luna's answering growl from underneath her. She placed a comforting hand onto Luna's neck, digging her fingers into her silky fur. "You are the foolish one's, leaving our lands to raid those of Erebor's. Your bodies will become a feast for my husband's ravens by the time the sun sets this evening."

"Such hostility, dear sister." Valinn emerged, sauntering out from behind the tent flap, dressed for impending battle. "I am quite disappointed, seeing that Oakenshield has sent his whore in his stead." He drawled, his sadistic grin not reaching his cold eyes.

"He has more important things to deal with than your misplaced inferiority issues." Mistlynn scoffed, enjoying the way her brother bristled at the brush off. "Besides, this is a family matter, and by the laws of our forebearers and honor of our people, I am here to demand satisfaction for the murders of the King Valos, Prince Argos and for crimes against the subjects of The White Kingdom and Erebor."

Valinn threw his head back and laughed, thoroughly amused. He shook his head as he rolled his shoulders than his neck before he cocked his head at her, studying her with a critical eye that made her skin crawl.

"Big words for such an insignificant, spoiled brat. Oakenshield really should have put a muzzle on you, as every husband should, especially a so-called warrior King of such repute." He ran his hand down Olos's neck, as if comforting his snarling wolf. "After I let you watch Olos eat your pathetic excuse of a wolf, I'll take you to the gates of Erebor myself. I'll be sure to give Oakenshield a good show. Who knows, maybe he will thank me. You always were a worthless whore, a shameful excuse of a daughter and sister. No dwarf, in his right mind, would bind himself to you."

"You will step nowhere near Erebor again, you are the one who is unworthy to step foot on its soil." She withdrew her one sword from its sheath on her it back and held it at ready. "Now, surrender your title and answer for your crimes like a real dwarf. Or face your death."

The warriors and their wolves that were standing to the side of her fell in alongside of her, their weapons held at a ready.

Valinn couldn't help the unsettling surprise that flashed through his eyes as he watched countless warriors surround and flank into his sister's ranks.

"You all will face death after I take the lives of your families in front of you!" he seethed, his handsome face contorting into an ugly sneer. "The moment I have purged your filthy traitorous blood from his earth I will march on Erebor and the Iron Hills and wipe them out!"

Mistlynn smirked, as she felt Luna shift into a fighting stance, reading herself for battle. "You always talked too much for your own good Valinn. Let's see if you can make good on those empty threats."

*********************************************

Thorin*

Thranduil and Bard watched with raised brows as Thorin rode out from the gates of Erebor on his black steed, flanked by most trusted warriors, leading their superiorly armed and organized army.

"Is it not considered an ill omen to be late for your own battle?" Thranduil sniffed from the back of his majestic elk as Thorin approached, earning him a dark scowl from the Dwarf King.

"I had to deal with some unforeseen issues." He growled. "Now, if you don't mind, we must make haste and cut off Valinn's army."

Thranduil and Bard looked at each other in surprise. "While we were waiting for you, a battle has already begun. We thought you sent out forces ahead of us."

Thorin became pale as he looked back at Dwalin in alarm. Dwalin turned back towards his captains and yelled out urgent commands.

Without saying a word to his allies, he urged his horse into a gallop towards the distant battle only Thranduil could hear.

"Move out!" Bard commanded with an urgent yell, as he fell alongside Erebor's army.

"Curious." Thranduil muttered as he nodded at Legolas to instruct their army to follow. Thranduil looked up to see Tauriel break away from the front of the dwarven army, accompanied by the younger Durin prince.

"Prince Kili, Tauriel. I assume things are not going according to plan this morning?" Thranduil spoke over the sound of his marching troops.

Tauriel glanced over at Kili, seeking permission to speak. Kili nodded, his expression grave. "Queen Mistlynn snuck out early this morning undetected, to face her brother alone."

"That is grave news indeed." Thranduil acknowledged with a slight nod of his head, his mouth turned down in a slight frown. "In that case, lets catch up and put an end to this before it gets out of hand."

Thorin rode like a madman, pushing his horse to its threshold. Dwalin, Fili, Balin, and the rest of the company struggled to keep up with him.

The sound of battle grew louder as they approached, the shrill screams and howls of dwarves and wolves alike crackled through the air with a foreboding heaviness. Thorin commanded his horse to a sudden stop at the top of the hill that looked down into the rolling grassy valley below. In horror, he watched as a bloody civil war unfolded before him. He couldn't tell whose side was whose, dwarves in similar armor fought against one another as wolves tore at warriors and other wolves alike.

"Mahal help us." He barely heard Balin groan out beside him as he scoured the battle below for any sign Mistlynn or Valinn.

He heard an outraged growl emit from both Dwalin and Fili, alerting him to a group of what appeared to be dwarflings and some older Dams running away from the battle, being chased by a dwarven rider on his wolf.

"Filthy laggard!" Dwalin seethed as he held his axe aloft, as if getting ready to intercept before several well aimed arrows embedded into the Wolf and its rider's chest, dropping them instantly in a heap.

Thorin looked over to see Kili and Tauriel ride over with Thranduil, lowering the bows as they approached.

"Disgraceful." Thranduil spat, showing his blatant disgust.

"Kili, Tauriel, take a few other riders and get the woman and children out of there." Thorin commanded, nodded in the direct of the crying children that outnumbered the elderly dams.

"Other than that bastard, I can't tell one side from the other." Gloin spat.

Thorin's eyes narrowed as he studied the warriors below them. "Those loyal to Mistlynn and her father will be fighting for their lives, and those of their families. Valinn's warriors will be under the influence of that ring, they will be showing no mercy. Try to disarm and contain those who you can. Those who fight back, kill."

Thranduil nodded to Legolas, "Instruct the archers to protect those fleeing. Shoot to maim, not kill."

"What about the wolves?" Bard questioned.

"Maim to the best of your ability. Until we know who is bloody who."

*****************************************

Mistlynn*

The deep sound of horns rent the air over the valley, over the roaring dim of the battle. The fighting ceased momentarily as dwarves and wolves alike stopped to look up on the ridge of the hill where the sound came from.

The ridge was lined with the armies of Erebor and Mirkwood. Mistlynn tried to not let the panic set in as her eyes fell upon Thorin astride his black steed alongside Thranduil on his impressive elk. A startled scream sounded as the sound of hoofbeats came from the other side of the valley ridge. The soldiers of Dale led by King Bard along with more of Erebor's warriors on their battle rams.

Mistlynn realized at that moment that she and her people were surrounded. She looked back at Markos who was on her left, weapons still held at the ready as he watched Valinn's warriors weighed their options.

"Well! Isn't this just awkward!" she heard Valinn's voice carry over the valley. She looked up towards the source of his voice to see that he was higher up on the hill, looking in Thorin's direction.

"Here I was thinking you sent your bitch to do your dirty work Oakenshield."

"Lay down your weapons and surrender or I will make sure you and your men will breathe your last in this field."

"I'm a little busy at the moment, squashing a rebellion and all that. So, if you don't mind butting out for a moment." Valinn's malicious laugh didn't fool anyone as Olos started growling as he crouched in preparation.

"I SAID STAND DOWN!" Thorin thundered in a rage as he stared down Valinn with murderous intent.

Valinn's sadistic grin broadened. "Kill the women and children of the traitors." He ordered cockily to his men, not once looking away from the enraged Thorin. "Let's see how well your men and your so-called allies can keep up. Nothing like a good old purge to keep the people in line."

Mistlynn felt Luna snarl underneath her as she began to see red at her brother's words. She sheathed her sword swiftly as she pulled out her bow in the same move and took aim. The arrow cut through the air, effectively embedding into the throat of one of Valinn's generals dire wolf. With an enraged snarl the rider tumbled to the ground. Before he could jump up in retaliation another arrow found its mark, Valinn's general fell into a crumpled heap, an arrow sticking out of his eye, dead before he hit the ground.

Her brother's eyes found hers, a cold death glare not matching the smirk that played on his face. "Now that wasn't very nice Sister."

Mistlynn drew another arrow from her quiver. "Get the women and children up to the men, now!" She growled to Markos and his men.

"My Queen …" he began as he watched Valinn's warriors turn towards them in preparation to strike.

"They are priority! Get them to safety now!" she spat. She could feel Thorin's eyes on her now that she had drawn everyone's attention on her.

Valinn urged Olos forward into a fierce dash towards her. He was way closer to her than Thorin was, and she knew he was going to try to lure Thorin in by using her. She forced herself not to look in Thorin's direction as she urged Luna into a sprint in attempt to draw Valinn and his men away from where Marko's and his warriors were trying to get the women and children to safety.

************************************

Thorin*

"Get the women and children out of there!" Thorin shot the command over his shoulder to Balin, Bofur, and Dori. "The rest of you, with me. YANAD DURINUL! DU-BEKAR!"

'DU-BEKAR!" the roar that answered the dwarf King's cry was thunderous as he led the charge. His eyes were trained on the area that Mistlynn had led Valinn away to before she had been swallowed up in a tumultuous sea of war.

The smell of copper was sharp in the air as his horse charged towards the battle, Orcist held at the ready at his side as he focused in on the enemies that now stood between him and Mistlynn.

A fierce terror had seized him the moment he saw her, drawing Valinn's attention from him to her. A novice's mistake, Valinn had no idea the monster that he had reawakened deep within him. And that monster was going to be his undoing, for even daring to harm a hair on Mistlynn's head.

As Thorin and his warriors were quickly able to tell apart those who served Valinn, and those who were standing with Mistlynn. They found themselves coming to the aid to many young warriors who were struggling to fight against Valinn's warriors, the weapons they held were unknown and proving to be more of a hinderance as they fought for their lives.

The wolves of Valinn's warriors were vicious and were harder to take down than a warg. They bore an intelligence that rivaled wargs and many an orc. They were fast, and vicious. Natural killers.

As Thorin pushed ahead, he soon found the drake scaled warriors along with their wolves falling back to join the ranks with his warriors. The divide had been made, jagged and gaping.

Thorin saw a grey wolf launch itself in Fili's direction as he struck down an opponent. "Fili!" he shouted, knowing that Fili wouldn't be able to dodge the fangs of the dire wolf's massive jaws. Before he could react, another wolf latched onto its neck, driving it down into the torn, muddy earth.

Before any of them could react, the grey wolf stopped moving, its muzzle open in a final gasp before death. The other wolf, of the boldest russet color on its face and back raised its bloody muzzle to look directly at the shocked dwarves before it. The wolf's golden eyes stared unflinchingly into Fili's. It all happened within a blink of an eye, before the wolf turned its eyes to Thorin, a low growl rumbling in its throat. It wasn't menacing, but rather direction. Thorin had grown accustomed to Luna's mannerisms, and he couldn't fight the feeling that this wolf would lead him to Mistlynn.

"Take me to her." Thorin couldn't help that his words came out as a growl themselves. The wolf turned abruptly and sprinted forward, the dwarf king following closely behind.

"What just happened?" Fili shouted, as they fought their way through.

"It saved your neck, and judging by the look on Thorin's face, its leading us to Mistlynn." Gloin was the first to answer, his war axe singing above his head as he wielded it swiftly against their oncoming enemy.

"The tide has turned! They are starting to lay down their arms!" Dwalin's roar cut through air, as the sound of Ereborean horns crashed down around them.

*******************************

Mistlynn*

She was bleeding, but all she could feel was the rage that sang in her blood as her twin blades locked with Valinn's. He was just as bloody, she noted with smug satisfaction.

A vicious sneer twisted her lips as she looked into eyes identical to her own. "Letting your lackies do all the killing has made you soft, brother." She taunted; her voice sickly sweet.

Valinn snarled. He swung, allowing an opening for Mistlynn to send a well-aimed kick into his ribs. An infuriated shout escaped him, enflaming him further as his body caved to the bone breaking kick. Their swords sang as they dueled with vicious accuracy. Neither one heard the horns sound as they sought to spill more of each other's blood.

"Getting tired, sister dearest?" Valinn grinned savagely as he managed to make Mistlynn lose her footing. She recovered swiftly, spinning quickly to deflect his blow.

"I'm just getting warmed up." She shot back coolly.

"Good. We still have a lot of time to play. This time Father isn't here to save you from me." His wicked grin made her focus waiver as he let out an ear-piercing whistle. Olos launched seemingly out of nowhere and darted somewhere behind her. "Let's see how long Oakenshield can last against an Alpha wolf."

She couldn't help herself from turning to look behind her, eyes wide in fear. She saw him instantly, running towards her with Caran leading him. Caran was tackled by one of Valinn's generals, granting Olos a direct path. "THORIN! LOOK OUT!" she found herself screaming out to him, her blood turning cold with panic.

She felt a sharp, searing pain in her side before she found herself flying into the air. She hit the ground hard, her side blazing as if on fire. She felt her breath stutter in her chest as she opened her eyes, her gaze immediately meeting Thorin's glacial blue that were burning with a terrifying rage deep from within them.

**************************************

Thorin*

He hadn't been able to tear his gaze away from her as he watched her fight her brother with a focused ferocity. She was just as breathtaking, if not more so in her battle worn armor as she maneuvered her swords lethally. The war paint on her face made her eyes gleam, her teeth flashing bright in a murderous snarl.

The battle was already won, Valinn's warriors vastly overwhelmed by the turn of their own people aided by Thorin and his allies forces. Only a few continued to fight back, and he knew with absolute certainty they would walk away the victors.

As he quickly approached, Valinn saw him, and a wicked sneer appeared on his face. He saw the massive white wolf that he had been riding earlier launch itself towards him. He grit his teeth in preparation, his grip on Orcist tightening as he stared the wolf down.

He heard Mistlynn's fearful scream of his name, drawing his attention towards her just in time to see Valinn plunge a dagger into her side before throwing her to the ground.

It was at that very moment, when he locked his gaze into her pained filled eyes that he became engulfed with a rage he unlike any he had felt before. He felt a fire flare up on his side, a phantom pain of what his One was feeling, fueling his rage as red bled into his vision.

With an animalistic roar, he charged the white wolf. He grabbed the bottom jaw of the wolf and twisted with his entire strength, making it yelp in shock and pain as its body was forced to twist midair before slamming into the ground with a bone shattering force.

With the other hand, Orcist was raised, its bloodied blade glinting in the late morning light before it cut through the air, slicing through the neck of the white wolf, and severing its head from its body.

Still holding its bottom jaw, Thorin held it aloft for all to see. The battle around them ceased at that very moment, as two kings stared each other down with unfathomable hatred. It was at that moment, Thorin realized that he had just taken from Valinn the only thing the heartless bastard had ever loved.

Valinn's pale face flushed crimson as the shock wore off, realizing then that he had greatly underestimated Thorin Oakenshield. He bent down, grabbed Mistlynn by her braid and dragged her up until he was holding her aloft, her feet dangling uselessly in the air. She couldn't help the pained cry that escaped her, her hands reaching up trying to grasp the hand that had her braid fisted cruelly in its tight grip.

Thorin stalked towards him, one hand holding Orcist while the other still held the severed head of Olos. He stopped when he was just mere feet away from them, before callously tossing the wolfs head towards Valinn.

He watched Valinn's gaze land on each one of his warriors that he knew flanked him, before he scanned further along the field. He watched an understanding dawn upon Valinn's face that his army had surrendered, and that he had lost the battle. He now stood alone.

Valinn's nostrils flared with pent up fury before he regained his composure and retained a carefree smirk on his face. "You think you've won? This is only the beginning." He taunted with a hollow chuckle. "I still have the upper hand, so to speak." He gestured sharply with the arm still holding Mistlynn up, eliciting another sharp cry at the harsh tug of her braid.

"Release her." Thorin grit out, teeth clenched. His eyes drifted down to her side, where he saw it was dark with blood as it leaked and dripped onto the sole of her boot.

"She's already dead. And you know it." Valinn crooned as he lowered her down to ground. "Come to think of it, it would be a mercy to slit her throat rather than let her bleed out." He brought the dagger up to her exposed neck, pressing it directly under her jaw.

Thorin's jaw clenched painfully as he took another step forward. "You are already a dead dwarf walking. If you release her now, I will make your death swift."

"I think it would be worth the slow death, making you watch as I cut her." Valinn cackled gleefully. "She's your One, right? Tell me, do you really feel what she feels? Her fear? Her pain?" he twisted the hand still holding her braid, yanking her head back cruelly. He watched Mistlynn bite her bottom lip, as if trying to stop herself from crying out.

Thorin bared his teeth, snarling as he took another step forward, prompting Valinn to step back and drag Mistlynn with him.

"Ooh ho ho, I think that is a yes." His laugh was high pitched, almost manic. "My my, how romantic. I don't even think dear old mother and father were soulmates. And you saw how the old bastard lost his mind when Mother died." He cooed, his eyes not leaving Thorin's once. "Love makes you pathetic. It turns you into a sniveling, weak, old fool." His laughter turned into a poisonous sneer as he pressed the dagger harder into her skin.

A small trickle of blood ran down Mistlynn's throat as the metal blade pierced her soft skin, prompting everyone standing behind Thorin to take a step forward, their eyes trained on the Queen being held captive by the madman. Thorin's throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, allowing Valinn a brief glimpse of the utter terror that had a chokehold on him.

"I want you to beg, Oakenshield." Valinn spat. "I want you to beg me, on your knees, for her life."

Growls of fury rippled through the crowd that had gathered. He felt his loyal company step forward to stand behind him. Thorin's eyes were transfixed on Mistlynn and her captor. His eyes jumping from her injured side to the dagger that was pressed hard into her neck. The ribbon of blood on her neck had grown slightly in size. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that he would kill her without batting an eye, and that terrified him.

They were in a stalemate.

"Let her go, and my life is yours." Thorin's voice was deceptively calm, as if the rage within him had been doused.

"Uncle no!" Fili gasped as he stepped forward as enraged protests rippled throughout the dwarven ranks.

"I'll do it. Let me." Fili urged, his voice resolute with his heartfelt declaration.

"No." Thorin's tone was flat, as he shot a pointed look back at his nephew. "It has to be me. You must lead now, Fili."

Thorin stepped forward, avoiding Mistlynn's incredulous look before kneeling onto the ground, laying Orcist down alongside him.

"Thorin no! Don't you dare!" Mistlynn hissed as she wiggled against her brothers grip.

"Shut up and appreciate this moment! You have two Sons of Durin willing to give their lives for you! My, my sister, what depths of deprivation did you sink into to accomplish that?" Mistlynn couldn't help the sob that escaped her lips as tears gathered in her eyes.

"Enough! I've done as you asked; now release her!" Thorin glowered from his knees up at Valinn, icy contempt making his pale eyes glow.

"I'm so sorry Thorin." Mistlynn wept, her voice choked both by emotion and the pressure of the dagger against her throat. "Forgive me." Before anything else could be said, her hands grabbed ahold of Valinn's hand that held the dagger and forced it back, cutting her neck further in the process.

She twisted her body, kneeing a shocked Valinn between his legs before she aimed to drive the dagger into his body, her aim true as the blade plunged into his chest. Time seemed to stand still as her gaze locked onto Valinn's, sea green merging with an identical sea green as their shared blood poured freely from their wounds. Valinn's mouth was agape in shock, as his hand slowly reached up to feel the handle of the dagger before he coughed on the blood that was filling his throat. His knees buckled as he started to succumb to the injury.

"Well done, Mistlynn. I didn't think you had it in you." Valinn croaked, blood oozing from between his white teeth, foaming from between his lips as he spoke. "He's coming. He's coming for them, for you." His eyes rolled into the back of his head as his body went limp, collapsing to the ground in a heap.

She stared at Valinn in shock as her own body grew cold, as if the life was seeping out of her. She barely felt his arms encircle her, lifting her as her legs buckled, cradling her against him as if she was something precious and fragile.

She felt pressure on her neck and against her side as she let her eyes drift up at the sky that was still filled with ravens circling gracefully on the mid-summer breeze. She couldn't bring herself to look into his eyes, to see the anguish she knew she had placed there.

She felt so light, as if she could float upwards, to meet them, to fly with Thorin's ravens.

She felt herself sigh, as peace flooded her in a heavy, enveloping embrace. She felt wet drops hit her face, as if the sky was beginning to open up to rain, tears from the heavens to wash away the blood spilt upon the earth. More drops, pressure on her neck; to her side.

She heard distant cries of absolute agony, of Thorin's voice begging her to stay with him as her eyes began to grow heavy, as the blue sky filled with ravens began to fade into a snowdrift like haze.

Flashes of memories flitted across her mind's eye, of his beautiful ocean eyes twinkling as he smiled unguardedly at her; of his deep boisterous laugh as he chased her in the courtyard after dinner; of the love in his eyes as he looked down at her as they danced on their wedding night; or of his sleepy, sexy smile as they lay in their bed holding onto one another, gazing into each other's eyes while whispering sweet nothings into the air around them.

She felt tears leak out of her hazy eyes as she tried to hang onto those memories as they began to fade, now mere reflections scattering across a disturbed surface of water. 'I love you Thorin, I'll love you always.' She heard her own voice, breathy and faint as if it was a mere echo of a thought.

That's when she heard it, the low and steady notes of singing. It was beautiful, reminding her of her mother and of the songs she would sing when her and Valinn were sick as children. It made her body tingle as if she was being submerged into warm waters, to float away on the same tide that scattered her and Thorin's memories.

A faint cry of unfathomable anguish thundered in the distance as she floated away, her body now weightless.

And then, there was nothing. Nothing but thick, heavy, bittersweet oblivion.

Chapter Text

*Mistlynn*

Ash. She tasted ash, scratchy and thick upon her tongue. Her body felt heavy as if she was being weighed down by sand. She forced her eyes open, blinking against the bright light that greeted her. Her vision was blurred and spinning, forcing her to close her eyes again.

She groaned as nausea set in.

Too quick.

She heard a gasp, a scraping sound, then a cool hand gently caressing her brow. “Mistlynn? Can you hear me.”

“Dis?” she croaked. She cringed at the raspy, death like voice that left her dry lips.

“Kili. Go and get your Uncle and Oin. Quickly!” She heard Dis whisper urgently. The sound of heavy footsteps rushing out of the room made her attempt to open her eyes again. Spinning, bright shapes teased her cruelly as she forced them open.

“Relax Mist. Don’t push yourself. Amad is pouring you some water.” A familiar and soothing male voice came from the other side of her.

“Fili? Where am I? What happened?”

“Easy now, drink first before you stress your voice too much.” Dis was back on the other side of her. “Help me sit her up, gently.”

She felt the bed dip beside her before a gentle hand slid behind her upper back, easing her up slowly. She gasped in pain, her body protesting against the slight movement of her torso.

“Here sweetie, drink.” Dis instructed gently as she brought the cup up against her mouth. She sighed as she felt the water slowly trickle into her parched mouth, soothing and washing away the pallid taste from her tongue. “Just a little bit at a time, we don’t want to overwhelm your body.”

She whimpered slightly in protest as she felt the cup leave her lips. “Just one more sip please.” Her voice, already sounding clearer and stronger, pleaded as she attempted to raise her arm that she knew was closest to Dis.

“Oin will have my hide, I’ll have you know.” Dis chided, her voice sounding suspiciously teary as she brought the cup back up to Mistlynns mouth, allowing her to take a couple more tentative sips. “Great Yavanna Mist. We were so worried.” She felt her sister-in-law grasp her hand tightly as Fili slowly lowered her back onto her pillowtop bed.

“I’m ok Dis. I promise. Just feels like I took on an Ice Bear and was used as its plaything.” She tried to joke, her chuckle turning into a hiss as her torso protested the movement.

Her neck twinged as she tried to move her head in what she knew was Dis’s direction, only for a hand to stop her from moving. “You don’t want to put strain on your stiches dearest. Hold as still as you can, okay?”

“Stiches?” she echoed, her voice becoming heavy as a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over her.

“She doesn’t remember.” She heard Fili whisper, his tone dismayed.

“It may take some time. She is still in shock.” She heard Dis’s hushed reply as she continued to rub her hand comfortingly.

“Do you think it’s because of that elvish medicine Thranduil used?”

“He told us it wouldn’t affect her like that.” Dis’s voice was hushed yet stressed.
Thranduil? Elvish medicine?

Sleep began to pull her under, and she found herself welcoming it, knowing deep down that the cause of Dis and Fili’s poorly concealed pain was her doing.

She drifted, in and out of consciousness, the time passing by unknown to her. She awoke in brief spurts between Oin and Gemlinn checking her wounds and changing her bandages. Other times she would hear the hushed voices of her friends, concern adding a sharp edge to their muffled words.

She would feel Thorin’s presence, rather than hear him speak. Some quiet rumblings passed between him and Oin or Dis, who were her most frequent of visitors. But nothing as solid and present as the feeling of him holding her hand as if she were the most delicate of flowers. But whatever the healers had been giving her kept her sedated, foggy, and distant in that place between drifting amongst dreams and awakening.

***********************************************

Thorin glared at the warrior’s kneeling before him. His fingers drummed on the armrest of his throne, his silver rings flashing in the faint light as the muffled sound of flesh against stone was nearly lost in the vast room.

Balin and Dwalin were standing on his right side while Fili and Kili stood to his left. The atmosphere was tense.

The Dwarf King was dressed in black leather, the only bit of color was the Durin’s blue tunic that peeked through more black leather making up a vest and jacket, as if he was still braced for a fight to come at any given moment. Orcist was strapped at his side.

The warrior at the front, Markos if he remembered correctly, studied him in turn. He knew that he recognized Mistlynn’s handiwork of the leather ensemble he wore. It was comforting to have something she crafted for him, as if he was keeping a piece of her with him at all times.

He missed her voice.

Her missed her touch.

He missed her.

He was incensed that she was lying in a bed, bandaged and stitched up because of the insanity her crazed twin wrought. All in the namesake of a dark lord who was trying to sink his talons once again into the realms.

His blood ran hot under his skin as his eyes narrowed at the warrior that stared back, unflinching.
Thorin’s jaw clenched like a vice. His patience was long spent, as was his coherent need for sleep. He couldn’t rest fully until he knew without a doubt that she would be okay. Until then, he needed answers, and he didn’t care how he got them. By any means necessary.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have the lot of you thrown into my dungeons along with that madman you once called King? To rot for the rest of your days?” His timbre was dark and menacing, the words rumbling through his chest.

“He was never our King.” Markos was the one to speak up. The black kohl around the dwarven warrior’s eyes was smudged and faded, making the crow’s feet appear to be etched deep into his skin. If Thorin wasn’t in such a foul mood, he would have noticed they all seemed to be just as tired as he.

However, he couldn't bring himself to care.

“You followed him from your lands in the North and followed his commands to raid my mining towns and kill my people. How is that not showing fealty to him?” The corner of Thorin’s lip stretched up into a snarl as he leaned forward in his seat, his body tense.

Markos bowed his head slightly, his shoulders and back still held straight, unyielding to the pressure Thorin was projecting down on him. “I was instructed by the late King Valos to wait until the opportune moment, and to assist the princess in taking her rightful place as our Queen.”

Thorin sprung to his feet. “Now this is where I seem to get confused. My wife told me she was outcasted at the death of her younger brother Argos. Before that she was removed from the line of succession. And in this instance, I am more inclined to believe my wife than the likes of you.” His eyes were menacing slits as he took each step towards Markos slowly, his hand resting steadily on the pommel of Orcist.

“It was for her protection, my Lord.” Markos’s voice was strong and unwavering as he brought his eyes back up to Thorin, who was now standing above him. “I was there when King Valos overthrew King Varric. It was imperative that Varric’s allies thought her dead along with her mother. All ties were able to be severed. We were able to disappear.”

Thorin’s head tilted slightly to the side as he studied Markos intensely. “What allies?” he growled.

Markos shook his head. “I do not know. I was a young foot soldier and was not privy to such information. I just knew they were from a dwarven clan in the East.”

Thorin looked over his shoulder towards Balin. The older dwarf nodded stiffly; his eyes alight with an understanding that Thorin knew he would share with him later. Whatever Marko’s was claiming was accurate thus far with what little they already knew.

Thorin looked back down at the warriors still kneeling before him. “So, Mistlynn arrives to your camp, and you all just change sides that simply?”

“He threatened the lives of my wife and children!” Another warrior behind Marko’s barks out, his nerves getting the better of him. “Until we knew for sure that it was truly the princess who made it to Erebor and became your Queen, we had no choice but to follow him.”

Markos hissed for the soldier to shut up, but another was speaking up just as quickly. “Those who opposed him found themselves thrown to the frost bears, we dared to not go against him unless we knew we had a chance of survival. Princess Mistlynn was our last hope.”

“You forsook her the moment Argos was killed.” Thorin growled, as he searched each face of the defeated warriors one at a time.

“She knew Valinn would use the death of Argos against her, and she would be outcasted. She never returned to our settlement. King Valos was so preoccupied with hunting frost drakes he saw nothing else that was happening until it was too late. Valinn had hold of that ring for many years and his influence and power had grown far beyond any of us imagined. King Valos was dead before we could come up with a counterattack while keeping our women and young safe.” Markos conceded after shooting his comrades a withering look.
He was afraid to surrender too much information, lest they lose their usefulness. It was smart thinking on his part.

“Why did King Valos not wear the ring? Would he have not noticed that it was missing from his possession if Valinn had had it for years?” Thorin pressed.

Markos sighed. “It was never his ring; it was King Varric’s. He had no desire to wear it after the uprising. He never liked the influence it seemed to have over the late King. He had placed it in a crate of his wife’s things and forgot about it like he did everything else.”

Thorin’s frown grew deeper. “Forgot what other things?”

Marko’s bravado seemed to deflate at the question. He looked back at his comrades, and they all nodded in unison before Markos looked back at Thorin. “He was never the same after his wife passed. The first thing he decreed was that no one was to speak her name, or sing. Our stories, our culture that we kept alive through the songs and music of our people has been mostly forgotten. Anyone caught singing or speaking of times past were punished … severely. Mistlynn was forced to train as a foot soldier, to be among us. Hidden amongst the masses. Valinn was left to wander in his loss of Amad and Gamul’adad. The ring preyed on this, and it drove him mad. He blames Mistlynn for the demise of their family and our people.”

The muscle in Thorin’s jaw ticked as he mused over what Markos had shared. It was a lot more disturbing than he originally thought. He crossed his arms across his chest before asking his final question. “Do you know what the Iklal Kurdu is?”

Marko’s eyes narrowed before shaking his head again. “No. Not specifically. All I know is that Valinn wanted it. Badly. Claims that its why Mistlynn fled here to Erebor, and that it was his birthright. It was his right to wield it.”
Thorin's eyes flashed in recognition to that particular phrase. The right to wield. “He acknowledged this Iklal Kurdu as a weapon?”

Markos swallowed, the first sign of nervousness he had displayed through their entire exchange. He noticed the instant shift in the King’s demeanor as his icy gaze locked in solely on him. “Yes, my Lord. Of sorts. He didn’t go into specifics, but it was something that would amplify some sort of ability he held.”

“And what of my wife? Why did he think she came here specifically for this…weapon he thought we had?” Thorin demanded through gritted teeth.

“He kept saying she could not be allowed to realize her full potential, that if she was able to harness this weapon her abilities would far overpower his. I do not know what abilities he spoke of, I just assumed it was ramblings of a madman.” Markos spoke earnestly, as if pleading for the enraged dwarf that stood over him to believe him. “King Varric had become obsessed with it. He kept rambling how Mistlynn would be the most powerful of our race, and of the honor it would bring to our people. Valinn did not like being overshadowed by his sister and losing his place of honor in their Gamul’adad’s eyes.”

Thorin nodded thoughtfully, his tone still devoid of any warmth. “Thank you for answering my questions. You may return to your dorms for now.” Thorin gestured for the guards to come and see them out.

As Thorin turned his back and walked back up the stairs towards his kin, Marko’s voice rose above the sound of marching steps and the clang of weapons and armor clashing together in movement. “Is the Queen alright? We have been told nothing of her well-being.” Markos slowly rose from his knees, his voice filled with concern.

A menacing growl ripped out of Thorin’s throat before he could stop it. “That is none of your concern. Now I suggest you leave before I change my mind that you are to leave here in once piece.”

Markos swallowed hard, apparently fighting back a retort at Thorin’s cold threat. He nodded stiffly, making eye contact with each of Thorin’s companions before casting one final look at the Kings back before he turned and followed his comrades and the guards out.

No one spoke until they heard the loud echo of the doors shutting.
Thorin was now facing his throne, arms crossed over his chest as he stared hard at the place where the Arkenstone used to be housed.

He heard the sounds of his nephews and friends approaching him cautiously, yet he still stared at that accursed spot, the vicious slash marks that cut through the stone as if it had been butter still evident on its surface. He kept it as a reminder, of what greed and pride brought. Even with Erebor won back and his rule solidified, he still refused to forget what had happened here, of what the Arkenstone and all the richest of this kingdom cost him and his people.

He loathed that accursed stone. Even with it buried deep within the bowels of the mountain, in the farthest reaches of the treasury it was still wreaking havoc on his life, and on the lives of those he treasured most in this world.

“Ye were a bit rough on em.” Dwalin’s gruff voice cut through the silence.
“He was very agreeable.” Balin agreed, a slight chagrin was laced within his tone. “He came right to Mistlynn’s aid and fought by her side until we got there. He is not deserving of your ire Laddie.”

“They are all deserving of my ire.” Thorin growled menacingly. “They followed that madman on a rampage of blood and destruction all for some measly gem our ancestors mined out of this very mountain with their own hands. They are entitled to nothing.”

“That was Valinn. Not those soldiers who were left with no choice but to protect their own.” Balin stepped up alongside the throne so that he could look Thorin in the eye.
“I know your worried, and you are running on mere minutes of sleep. But this is not the way to handle this. Those people are deserving of a true leader, and that falls to you now as Mistlynn’s One. You are by law their King now. They will be looking to you, and you will need the fealty of those warriors to keep them amiable.”

Thorin’s hard gaze softened slightly at Balin’s words as he turned his focus to the elder Dwarrow, who was looking at him in concern.

“He gave us a lot to work with.” Balin continued. “Now we know truly what is wanted with the Arkenstone and what they believe it to be. This was kept from Mistlynn, all of it was. At least you can be assured of that.”

“What are we to do with the Arkenstone?” Fili spoke up. He and Kili both shared the same looks of unease.

“We checked on it with Gloin as you asked.” Kili continued. “It’s getting colder down there. I could scarcely feel my fingers by the time we reached the door of the vault. It was iced over again. Gloin says they have to chip off the ice now every couple hours and that frost is now starting to show on the walls on the outside of the vaults in the main treasury room.”

Thorin let his eyes slide shut as he attempted to rub the rising tension on the back of his neck. “I’ve been trying to find a way of destroying it, but I have found nothing. Thranduil has informed me he thinks it’s a bad idea, that it could unleash some sort of magic that has been trapped within it.”

“He is probably right then. He would know more than us about such things. Unfortunately.” Balin grumbled begrudgingly.

“Magic? Like what Gandalf has?” Kili tried to keep the awe from his voice.

“Maybe.” Thorin muttered before sighing long and wearily. “But I don’t think it’s from a wizard. It’s from something else, and it was buried long ago before our kin ever step foot on this mountain.”

“What makes ye say tha?” Dwalin shifted his stance as he let his eyes fall to where Thorin was staring at on the throne.

“It doesn’t feel evil, but there is a heaviness to it.” Thorin mused aloud, “It feels … ancient and …primal?” He seemed to be confused by his own thoughts. “Nothing like how the gold felt when we first got here, when I succumbed to the dragon sickness. That was malicious. Even though I despise it…it harbors no ill will like the gold and my Gamul Adad’s ring did.”
His kin looked at him surprise. “You can…feel the difference between them?” Balin tried to not sound incredulous.

Thorin hummed as he nodded. “Yes. I’ve read all that I can find and between my Gamul’adad’s journals, our research and my own experiences, there are huge differences between the gold sickness from the ring and gold, and the Arkenstone. It only seemed to heighten the desire. It didn’t cause it.”

“Like what that warrior Markos said.” Fili pointed out as his eyes grew wide. “He said Mist’s brother claimed that it would amplify whatever abilities he thought they had? Like a weapon.”

“It appears there is a correlation there.” Balin conceded as he, Dwalin and Thorin all shared a look of exhaustion between them.

“What does that mean for Mistlynn?” Kili asked quietly.

“It means nothing for her at the moment.” Thorin replied gruffly. “There is much to be done. As Balin so eloquently put it, the people of the White Kingdom are now ours to care for at this time. Valinn is incapacitated in his cell, and the Arkenstone is still safe in the vaults for now. Until Mistlynn is fully recovered, I want to keep this quiet. Only when she has regained her strength, we will look further into it.”

Balin raised his eyebrows incredulously. “And how well did that work for you last time?” He gave the dwarf King a pointed look.

“She’s recovering from an injury that should have killed her.” Thorin’s tone was barely over a whisper. “When she awakes, she will have her Adad’s death to process, and what to do with her people. I will not overwhelm her with this too. I will tell her at the right time.”

“With all due respect Thorin, I dinnae think there will ever be a good time to tell er of this.” Dwalin pointed out gruffly, his expression nearly identical to that of his older brothers.

Thorin finally turned away from his throne so that he could look down the walkway. He looked grim as he nodded stiffly at their words. “What other choice do I have?” It was in that moment, he allowed his kin to truly see just how at a loss he was, frightened beyond anything he had ever felt before. “It feels like no matter what I do, I am losing her. In one way or another. No matter how hard I try to hold on to her, keep her safe, I fail her at every turn.”

“You are not failing her Laddie.” Balin placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Am I not?” He grumbled; voice thick with emotion as it seemed to rumble through the air as the stillness of room grew heavier around them. So many regrets and spoken secrets from the past haunted this throne room, and now it seemed he was adding to that number with some skeletons of his very own.

******************************************
Later that evening…

He was sitting in the chair by her bed, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. He knew it was late, he could feel it heavily in his limbs. The sun had disappeared behind the horizon hours before. After the last council meeting, he had come straight to their room, skipping dinner entirely.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he leaned his head back against the chair to rub his face in exhausted exasperation. He felt powerless, just sitting, and waiting for her to wake up.
It had been touch and go for the first week as her body fought to come back from what would have been a fatal amount of blood loss. Tauriel, Thranduil and Kili had reached them just in time, and the elven King had helped Tauriel bring her back from the precipice of death, just as he had begun to feel his heart shattering into countless pieces, leaving his soul bare and painfully raw as he felt her start to slip away from him and their world. He still couldn’t shake off that hollow feeling, even as she lay breathing before him.

It haunted him.

He would forever be in Tauriel and Thranduil’s debt, much to the despair of many of his council members. But he didn’t care about that or what anyone thought. He would pay any price to spare her countless times over. He had failed to protect her, and he nearly lost her as she bled out in his arms after fighting for him and for Erebor.

He had been plagued with the worst nightmares of his life, outreaching any horror that had stalked him in his sleep since the Battle of Azanulbizar and of the Battle of the Five Armies. He would be holding her, watching her gasp for air as he fought to stop the bleeding with his bare hands.

He shuddered as the images rushed through his mind, of how slick then sticky his hands had been as the smell of her blood choked him, how he had been drenched with it when he had rushed her back to Erebor. The look of absolute horror on Oin and Gemlinn’s faces at the sight of him.

Balin, Dwalin and Dis had to help him out of his bloodied armor and clothes as he stood there in their room in a daze, the water had turned a bright red as he washed her life source from his skin.

He felt tears prick his eyes at the onslaught of memories that plagued him day and night. He groaned quietly as he fought them back down into the recesses of his mind, pushing them back to the ravenous shadows of regret and self-loathing that were once again threatening to consume him.

“Thorin?” It was a hushed whisper, her voice cracking from disuse, but to him it was the most beautiful sound, one he had been so desperate to hear again. He jolted upright in his seat, his eyes instantly connecting to her bleary gaze.

“Mistlynn.” He couldn’t help the choking rasp of his voice. She gave him a faint smile.

“You look exhausted Kardun. Have you not been sleeping?”

He reached for her as quickly as he could without jostling her. He grasped her hand in his as he sat down gently on the bed, bringing it up to his lips to kiss reverently. “Thank Mahal!” he breathed into the back of her hand before pressing another kiss to it. He dared to bring his eyes up to her face, to see her watching him with loving concern written on her face,
“How long have I been sleeping?” her held hand gripped his softly, her strength still faint. His heart ached at the thought.

“Two weeks.” His voice became deep as his eyes scanned over her bandaged neck.

‘Luna?”

“She was injured, but she is recovering.”

“Olos attacked her, she was trying to protect me. I thought she was dead.” She bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

“She has some serious wounds. But she will recover.” His thumb rubbed the back of her hand soothingly.

“Valinn… is he? …” she couldn’t bring herself to finish her question.

His throat bobbed as he pressed his lips in a tight line. He shook his head. “He is gravely injured, but alive.”

She breathed in raggedly. “What?” She felt her stomach churn.

Thorin squeezed her hand gently. “Do not stress yourself, I am taking care of it. He is not a threat at the moment. We will figure out what we are to do about him when you are fully healed.”

Mistlynn willed the nausea to subside at his words. Valinn was injured, and probably in worse shape than her. She nodded stiffly. She couldn’t allow herself to dwell. “Okay. What of the ring?”

“I had Balin retrieve it, it is locked away.”

She sighed in relief before she allowed herself to relax once again into the bedding. “The Iron Hills? Dain?”

“All is well. When they heard of Valinn’s defeat they laid down their arms. The remaining generals are in our dungeons.” His voice was soothing as he traced his thumb over her knuckles.

She breathed out a sigh of relief. “Tell Dain and Sindri I am sorry. For dragging them into this fight.”

Thorin shook his head vehemently. “No, you do not need to apologize to anyone.”

She brought a shaky hand up to caress the side of his face, feeling his scruffy unkept beard under her palms. “Yes, I do.” She whispered as she looked at him meaningfully.

She felt her throat tighten as his neutral expression fell from his face, allowing his brokenness and exhaustion to show. He turned his face into her hand, as if seeking out her touch to remind himself she was really there. “Come here.” She coaxed gently, her hand weakly attempting to pull him closer.

“I don’t want to risk hurting you, your wounds …”

“I need you to hold me.” She interrupted, “You could never hurt me Thorin.”

A quiet, shuddering gasp escaped his chest as he leaned down slowly, being overly cautious of where he placed his hands before he drew her into an embrace. His body trembled as her arms wrapped around him, pulling him in closer to her.

“I thought I lost you M’eudail. Mahal, I couldn't stop the bleeding, I was losing you no matter what I did.” His voice was shaky and hollow as he breathed her in, his face buried in her hair just behind her ear.

She savored the feeling of his arms around her, gladly soaking in his warmth as she rubbed her hands consolingly on the back of his head and shoulders. “I am so sorry Thorin. I had no other choice. I couldn't let him carry out his threats against you or Fili and Kili. I couldn’t let him take Erebor. And when I saw you get to your knees …”

He couldn’t help his fingers from clenching in reflex to her words. “I am angry M’eudail. I love you beyond life, but I am so angry. In what world would you think sacrificing yourself for me is acceptable?” He breathed hotly into her neck as he fought to keep his voice steady.

“I know, Kurdun. But I am just as protective of you as you are of me.”

He let out an exasperated huff. She nuzzled him gently. “Hold me.” She whispered gently. “Hold me while we sleep. You look exhausted.”

He couldn't help the humorless laugh as he slowly released her from his arms. “I don’t know if that is a good idea, I don’t want to hurt you,”

“Thorin, Son of Thrain, you will take off those boots and that jacket and hold me! We will continue this when I am able to hold up my end of a fight.” Her stubborn tone left no room for argument.

He couldn’t help but shake his head and chuckle softly. “You think you can boss me around in your condition?”

“Oh, you know I can, and I will.” She smiled ruefully as she watched him kick off his boots and shrug off his jacket. He turned back towards the bed and slid carefully under the blankets, taking extreme care to not jostle her as he settled in close to her.

“Don’t think, for one minute, this absolves you from finishing this. We will be discussing this topic in depth!” He growled.

She smiled softly as he gently slid one arm under her shoulder, avoiding her torso completely as he rested the other hand on her hip. Aware of the stitches under the wrappings on her neck, she turned slightly to kiss under his jaw. “I love you Thorin.”

Her words puffed warmly against the skin of his neck, making his throat tighten again with those unbridled emotions he had been fighting with for the past couple weeks. He swallowed again, closing his eyes at the sound of those words.

“I love you Mistlynn. Always.” He breathed into her hair.

“Even though your angry with me?”
He savored the feeling of her breath warming his skin. He brought his hand up from her hip to rest against her chest. He sighed as he felt the steady thrum of her heart, the heat of her skin settling into his.

The pain that had lurked within him, holding his lungs and heart tight in its suffocating hold eased slightly as he allowed himself to feel the spark of her settle back within him.
“Especially when I am angry with you.”

She sighed as the deep timbre of his voice washed over her as she laid her head gently against his chest, tucking her head under his chin so that she could feel and hear the beat of his heart.

Chapter Text

Several weeks later …

Her fingers trembled as she worried the threads of the quilt that covered her lap. She couldn’t bring herself to look up at them, at him. She shifted back slightly as her side began to faintly throb, allowing some of her weight to shift back into the many soft pillows that were supporting her back. She didn’t want to think of him, or her Adad for that matter. She was exasperated that they were wanting to discuss this with her …again.
She heard Thorin let out a long-suffering sigh. “I would like you to be a part of this decision. But we cannot keep putting this off M’eudail.”

She clenched her jaw together, her gaze instantly snapping up to meet his. “I don’t know why you’re bothering to include me now, especially when you chose to keep Valinn alive without my consent.”
Thorin crossed his arms over his chest and let his head fall back as he rolled his eyes. “This again.” He muttered as he rubbed a hand over his face. “I’ve already explained this to you. I was only focusing on you at that time. When he was brought back, he was barely alive, but alive none the less, I wasn’t going to play executioner on an injured, unarmed Dwarrow. Taking a life during a battle is one thing, but I am not going to murder him in cold blood when he has already lost.”

The humorless laugh that escaped her made her body ache more, but she couldn’t help it. “He’s murdered countless in cold blood. Dams and children, Thorin. I gave my blood to ensure his death, and now all of that has been for nothing. You don’t know him, how he works. You will regret that you didn’t finish him off when you had the chance.”

Thorin’s expression darkened at the reminder of her near-death experience. “Do you not think I am not reminded of the fact you nearly die-“

“I think that is enough on that topic.” Dis interrupted sharply as she stood from her seat facing Mistlynn’s bed. “It is obvious that neither of you are going to see eye-to-eye on this, so you will have to be willing to agree to disagree on the matter of our unwanted guest.” Thorin had brought her with him, knowing full well that a mediator was needed. He was beyond frustrated and at a loss as to how to meet a common ground with Mistlynn. She was stuck in that strange in between that occurred after a bloody battle, not quite healed physically or emotionally, but well enough where avoiding the reality of the aftermath was no longer an option.
She loathed this. She found herself wishing to go back to that in-between, where neither guilt nor pain could reach her.

“There is also the matter of your Adad’s burial…” Dis began, her gaze alternating from her to Thorin as she gauged their reactions to her words. “We cannot keep putting this off. Your people have lost much and the closure this would grant them to lay the fallen to rest…”

Mistlynn observed the way Thorin held himself, rigid and guarded as the muscle in his jaw ticked. His eyes were flashing with countless emotions as he continued to study her, as if trying to discern what her thoughts were.

He had more he wanted to say but Dis had taken control of the room. This had been a heated topic between them the past couple days, and she was nowhere near ready to deal with the carnage this battle with her brother had left behind in its wake. It was too much to take in and sort through.
Mistlynn grit her teeth as a frustrated hiss escaped her. “I agreed that a burial was needed.”
“Your Adad, Mist. You have refused us to bury him with the others.” Thorin sighed. “I told you he would receive the highest honors as late King to your people…”

“I don’t give a bloody damn about kingly honors owed to him!” She spat as she fisted the blanket on either side of her. “He is not to be buried here in Erebor. I cannot allow it. Burn him on a pyre for all I care, just not here. He doesn’t belong here.”

Dis threw a cautionary glance towards Thorin at the outburst, to see her brother looking at his wife shocked. After a moment he looked over at Dis, nodding his head towards the door, a wordless request for privacy. Dis cleared her throat as she nodded back in understanding. “I’ll go get us some tea.” She excused herself.
Mistlynn blinked rapidly at the onslaught of emotion that tingled through her veins as her heart raced in silent panic. She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed in deeply, ignoring how her side protested the movement. Her stiches had been removed days prior, and her skin was fully healed, but she could still feel where the blade had cut through her side to sever muscle and tissue. She pushed her hand under her tunic and placed it over the scar, still pink and raised against her palm.

She heard the door click shut as Dis excited the room, leaving her and Thorin alone.
She felt the bed dip beside her, the warmth of his presence soothing despite their ongoing argument that had her on edge. “This is the most I have gotten out of you in over a week M’eudail.” His voice was low and gentle as he placed a comforting hand on top of her other hand that was bracing her upright. “Why do you not want him buried here? This kingdom is just as much your home as it is mine, so I just assumed having him buried here would have brought you some peace.”

She let out a short breath before she opened her eyes, blinking rapidly as she searched for the right words to describe just an inkling of the turmoil that was raging through her. “He would not have wanted to be buried under stone. He would want to be reunited with my Amad in the ocean in the North.”
Thorin sighed as he shook his head. “Mist. I understand that and respect it but there is no way I can send someone that far North just to bury him…”

“Let me finish. Or I won’t speak another word of it.” Mistlynn bit out, interrupting Thorin’s exasperated reasoning. He pressed his lips into a thin line as he steeled herself under her reprimand, before he nodded for her to continue.

Mistlynn closed her eyes as she took a steadying breath. “I was going to say that despite his wishes I could care less about fulfilling them. He doesn’t have the right, even in death, to demand that respect from me. The burning pyre would be the next best thing.  His ashes spread on the wind may release us both.”

Thorin couldn’t help but furrow his brows at her choice of wording. He waited patiently for her to look at him, and when she finally did open her eyes to meet his gaze, he found himself lost in the depths of anger and despair that resided there. He tilted his head, his sharp gaze softening before he nodded subtly. “Okay. I can do that.”

She breathed in relief at his words. She blinked rapidly as she appeared to bite the inside of her cheek, as if trying to figure out how to form the words she wanted to speak but something was holding her back. He felt his heart constrict at her inner turmoil; he was desperate to give her some sort of reprieve.

“I may not know or understand the relationship you had with your Adad. Mahal knows my relationship with mine was complex at best, but if you don’t allow yourself to process that loss, to grieve his passing, it will keep you from moving on.”  He brought his hand to her face to trace her cheekbone gently with his thumb before cupping her face affectionately.

“I wasted so much time living in the past because I wouldn’t allow myself that process. You have to let him, and whatever happened between you in the past go.”

“I accepted long ago that we would never have a close relationship. He saw me as nothing more than a disappointment. He just didn’t realize until it was too late that Valinn was the one to ruin everything.”
Her resigned tone disturbed him. Her inner conflict was apparent. He cocked his head as he studied her crumbling façade of forced indifference.  The shock of seeing Valo’s remains, his violent demise so cruelly thrown in her face had apparently transformed into something else entirely.

It was brittle and sharp, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to understand, for the fact alone that this mysterious childhood of hers would elicit nothing but outrage and unquenchable thirst for revenge on her behalf.
A quick knock sounded at the door, announcing Dis’s return with the tea. Thorin watched Mistlynn’s walls building back up rapidly, managing to give Dis a small yet grateful smile.

“I brought the tea and some biscuits fresh from the oven. Bombur made sure to include that cinnamon honey you are so fond of Mist.” Dis strode into the room, not minding in the least that she was the one bringing them refreshments on a silver tray. “I also found Balin along the way, he had a few things he wanted to discuss with both of you.”

“Hope ye don’t mind my intrusion.” Balin greeted from the doorway before he stepped inside the room and closed the door softly behind him. “If it wasn’t important I wouldn’t be taxing you at this time, my dear.”
Mistlynn cleared her throat. “Not at all, Master Balin. Your company is always welcome.”

“You look well.” Balin smiled fondly as he came to stand at the foot of the bed. “I am relieved to see you are healing. You gave us all quite the scare.”

Thorin stood from where he was sitting, rubbing a hand wearily across his brow as he slowly walked towards the fireplace behind Balin. He stared into the flames, still intently listening to the conversation around him. He knew what Balin was there for, and he dreaded it, especially with how he watched her wrestle with the matter of Valinn’s lucky recovery and how to handle the burial of her father. He couldn’t begin to wager how she would react to the topic of how to settle the misplaced people who now called her their Queen.
“Weeks have passed now.” Balin began, still looking at Mistlynn with fondness evident in his eyes. “A lot of the injured are healed and ready to be moved from the infirmary and reunited with their families. But there is a lot of suspicion and wariness, especially with Northern riders refusing to be separated from their wolves.” Balin took in a deep breath as he watched Mistlynn’s back straighten and tense, her hands once again clenching the blanket that covered her until her knuckles were white.

“King Bard is understanding of our … unique predicament, but the people of Dale are wary of your people residing in their tents outside of the gates. Now that Dain has escorted the rest of the Northern army here, the sheer number of wolves alone makes them nervous for their livestock. We have had no issues yet but …”

“They are not my people.” Mistlynn’s hushed words were edged with anger and pain, prompting Dis to stop preparing their tea while Balin looked over at Thorin.

Thorin turned back around to face her, crossing his arms as he braced himself for the intensity that was starting to make the room crackle with energy.
“I know this is hard, lassie. But they are your people. You defeated your brother in combat, and you are now their rightful Queen.”

Mistlynn shook her head aggressively. “No. My adad removed me from the line of succession, I was treated as nothing more than another common warrior subjected to the whims of my Adad and brother, I am not, nor do I want to be their Queen. They can wander the wilderness for all I care but I will not claim them as my people.”
“That is not how it works, Mist.” Thorin rumbled as a he took a step forward so that he was standing next to Balin, who was looking at Mistlynn in pity. He didn’t allow his gaze to wander, his eyes solely focused on her with a fierce steadiness, almost daring her to push back.

He wanted her to push back, that was better than the distant aloofness she had displayed the past week. As the reality of what happened settled in, she had started to withdraw from everyone, including him.

“That is how it will work.” Her eyes narrowed into slits. “I will not be associated with a kingdom made up only of deceit and lies.” She spat the words, her voice trembling with a rage he knew had been festering since her memories of all that she had lost came rushing back with an unyielding force. “They didn’t even try to support or protect me when I was my most vulnerable after my Amad’s passing. They cast me aside, so why shouldn't I return the favor?”

Dis gasped from her seat next to Mistlynn’s nightstand. “You don’t mean that, my dear, surely.” Dis reached for her hand in a comforting gesture.  Mistlynn shook her head adamantly as she fought to keep her fingers from trembling. Dis pursed her lips and looked over at Balin and Thorin in concern.

“You were willing to give up your life to save your people.” Balin pressed gently. “You went against your husband and King’s orders and tried to defeat your brother before the battle even began. You told Thorin that your people were innocent and that it would not be a fair fight…”

“My main concern and priority was to protect Thorin, this family and our friends. Erebor as a whole was innocent! I did not want any more innocent blood to be spilled.”

“So, you would condemn your people for the actions of your Adad and your brother?” Thorin countered, his eyes flashing as he fought to keep his frustration with her at bay. “What of their women and children? Are they to be held accountable as well for their poor decisions?”

Mistlynn swallowed thickly as she pressed her back farther into the pillows behind her. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from Thorin’s piercing glower. She breathed in sharply through her nose.

“I saw you fighting tooth and nail, alongside other riders trying to save those innocents. You were pleading for me to spare your warriors, for the sole fact that they didn’t have the battle experience my warriors have. You cannot tell me, after watching all of that, that you do not care what happens to your people.” His voice was firm, his words were articulately chosen as he stared her down from the foot of the bed. He watched her chest rise and fall rapidly in time with her shallow breathes as she fought to maintain her carefully constructed act of apathy.

Moments passed, the air of the room thick with sparking tension as the King and his Queen stared each other down challengingly, a sheer battle of wills only spoken through their eyes. Mistlynn felt her bottom lip quiver slightly as she began to feel the brunt force of his words weighing down on her. He stood there, as still and as unyielding as stone as his eyebrow quirked slightly, acutely aware of her tells as she struggled to deny the truth he had spoken.

She blinked rapidly, her eyes beginning to burn as her vision blurred with unshed tears. She didn’t want to cry in front of them, to reveal her weakness. But it was too much, he had ripped away her poorly constructed barriers she had begun to build as the reality of all that happened began to close in around her. She felt exposed, the truth of her brother’s words ringing in her ears, taunting her, as if he were just mere steps away from her, obscured in the shadows in the corner of her room.

“There is no shame in caring for your people lass, even if you feel as if they abandoned you.” Balin’s words were softly spoken, making her heart constrict painfully in her chest. She winced, finally turning her face away from Thorin's stare and down at the blanket before her. She allowed her eyes to finally close, releasing the tears from her eyes down her cheeks to fall heavy onto her bed.

“I trust your discretion on this matter.” She choked out, her throat tight with the overwhelming emotions threatening to spill over.

She heard Thorin sigh. “M’eudail.” It almost sounded like a plea. A shudder tickled down her spine, whether from the deep timbre, still begging her to open up to him.

“I can’t do this. Not right now. I need …time.” She rasped, still looking down at her bedspread. Her fingers twitched and ached, still clenching the blanket like it was a failing lifeline. “I trust you, Thorin. To make the right decision. I am not in the right frame of mind to determine anyone’s fate at the moment.”
Balin looked over at Thorin, his wispy white eyebrows raised in question. “You have come to a certain understanding with that one Captain Markos.” The older Dwarrow kept his tone neutral. “He will know better than anyone how we should proceed.”

Thorin continued to stare at Mistlynn, who now lay fully against the pillows behind her as if completely drained of her energy. She wouldn’t meet his eyes as she looked off into the shadows of the opposite wall. Bitter disappointment filled him as he realized that this was as far as he was going to get with her today.

“Very well. Have him brought to my study. The sooner we set a plan in motion, the better.” His voice was gruff as took a step away from the bed, his gaze still resting on her only.

“I will go and fetch him. Best we bring in Fili and Kili to help delegate.” Balin stated before inclining his head towards Mistlynn. “Please do try to rest up, my dear. We have all missed you.”

“Thank you Balin.” Mistlynn whispered while still looking off into the dark corner of the room.
Thorin clenched his jaw as he turned and stalked out, with Balin following close behind him.

Dis watched them leave, hating to see the turmoil that was eating away at both her brother and sister-in-law. He had asked her to come sit earlier for another attempt of drawing Mistlynn out. Thorin was frustrated, but mostly terrified at how Mistlynn was handling the aftereffects of the battle between her and her brother. Her Adad’s murder by her brother’s hand certainly didn’t help matters either.

After the sound of the door closing sounded over the crackling of the fireplace, Dis cleared her throat and set down her teacup before standing up. “Now that your hair has had time to dry, let’s get those wild curls of yours braided.” She retrieved the comb and hair ties from the vanity across the room, her demeanor cheery as she hummed a little tune under her breath.

The skirts her dress rustled as she turned back and glided back towards the bed. She came around to Mistlynns side and sat down next to her. She motioned with her hand for her to turn around. Mistlynn complied without any argument, something akin to guilt making her pale brow crumple. Dis continued humming the calming tune as she began to run the wooden comb through Mistlynn’s silvery locks.

“I know I am being difficult. He doesn’t deserve it.” Mistlynn spoke suddenly, her voice wracked with guilt.
Dis’s hands paused briefly as she considered the admission before once again running the comb through.

“There is a lot you have to muddle through. He knows that. He just wants you to confide in him, let him know what it is that you need and what you’re feeling. He is a Dwarrow desperate to ease the pain of his One, my dear, not a mind reader.”

Mistlynn let out a long sigh. “I know. But how can I tell him what I’m feeling if I don’t even know myself? I am so unsure … of who or what I am. Everything was a lie. My entire life, all that made me …me, is based on a lie.” She took in a sharp breath before continuing. “And now, my adad is dead, killed by Valinn. I will never know why, why the need for all of these lies!”

Dis set the comb down onto the bed before gently gathering Mistlynn’s hair in her hands and began to section it skillfully. “No one expects you to know all of the answers just yet, Mist.” She soothed as she calmed the curly strands with her steady fingers, beginning the intricate braid. “Nor does anyone blame you for what has happened.”

Mistlynn scoffed. “I’m sure there are a good number of those who would jump at the chance to lay the blame at my feet. He is my brother; they were my people. I should have some sort of accountability in all of this mess.”

“We do not need you to play martyr.” Dis chided, not stopping once as her hands continued to weave the strands of hair flawlessly. “You are Thorin’s One. Erebor’s Queen. You hold your head high and lead with that confidence I know you possess. Don’t let your crazed brother steal that from you. He will win if you allow him to.”

Mistlynn worried her bottom lip in between her teeth as Dis worked. She didn’t know how to respond to that, her wounded pride wouldn’t allow words to form cohesively on her tongue. Her hands were moving restlesslessly, fingers intertwining and twisting in tandem with the screaming voices of her Adad and brother echoing in her head.

“It isn’t a weakness, caring for your people, you know. Despite all that has occurred in the past between them and your family.” Dis spoke again, this time with a compassion that made Mistlynn’s hands still. “That makes you strong. It is what makes you a Queen.” Dis finished the final length of the braid and began to tie it swiftly. She placed a hand on Mistlynn’s shoulders and squeezed gently.

“Remember where you came from. Your ancestors saved many innocents, dwarves and elves alike, from certain death and gave them hope when it had nearly been lost. You come from a line that chose love above all else. Honor, love and sacrifice, that is what your lineage is. They stood for what was right, in face of extreme hatred and opposition from their own kind. And they laid down their lives for the greater good of all. That is who you are, Mistlynn. That is where you come from. Be proud of that. Honor them.”
Mistlynn couldn’t help the tears that escaped her eyes as she covered her mouth with her hand to stifle the oncoming sobs that gripped her lungs.

She felt Dis’s arms encircle her as she began to hum consolingly. “Do not be ashamed to cry, dear heart.” Dis soothed as she rocked Mistlynn gently in her arms. “To mourn what has been lost, and to mourn what could have been, is a cleanse for the soul. It is a release of all those things in your past that have weighed you down and held you back from living life.”

Grief poured from her as she let herself go limp in her friends arms. She knew Dis was right. “It hurts.” She gasped, unable to describe further what exactly she was feeling in that moment.

“I know Mist. I know. But it will get better, I promise.” Dis soothed as she rubbed her hand in comforting circles on her back. “You will not navigate this alone; you have us to walk by your side. One step at a time.”

Mistlynn nodded as she sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, soaking in the comfort and warmth Dis was so freely giving her.

******************************
Later that night …

Her soft leather slippers padded softly in the vast hallway that was shrouded with the inky shadows that fell with the late hour of the night. Her arms were wrapped around her stomach, as if the pressure of her arms could soothe the ache from the self-loathing that was churning within her. She didn’t know why she reacted this way, why she was fighting him at every turn. She could see the exhaustion that had dulled the light in his eyes, how the weight of everything was heavy on his shoulders.

And it was all because of her.

Just like Valinn said.

Her throat became tight, her chest hurting as the emotions became almost overpowering. She had been fighting the reality of it all, from the very moment she woke up and saw Thorin sitting by her bedside, weary and emotionally broken, because she didn’t listen. She thought she was strong enough to fight Valinn.

And she failed.

Her eyes burned as she blinked rapidly to dispel the tears that were threatening to overpower her. She wanted to run, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t bring herself to leave him. She was too selfish.

Even though she knew he would be better off. She wasn’t strong enough for him, and he deserved someone stronger, someone who wasn’t afraid of her own failures. She breathed in sharply as that particular thought stung deep, making her heart throb as it sunk in like a blooming bruise.
The guards that were standing before his office eyed her, no doubt surprised to see her up and about at this late hour.

“My Queen.” The guard closest to her greeted before both guards bowed their heads in respect. She swallowed thickly, she didn’t deserve their respect. She had done nothing but let everyone down with her weakness.

She nodded stiffly in response. “Is the King in his office?”

“Yes, your highness.”

She breathed in deeply as she steeled herself. “Can you ask him if he is willing to speak to me?”
The guards looked at each other in shock. “Of course, you highness.” The guard who had first greeted her seemed confused but knocked on the door.

She heard a weary “Enter.” Come from the other side of the door before the guard opened it. She bit her bottom lip as another twinge of guilt gnawed at her.

“Sire, the Queen is here. She is asking if you are able to speak to her?”

She heard the abrupt sound of a chair being shoved across the stone floor before his heavy steps rushed towards the door. The guard stepped back to his post just as the heavy door swung open as Thorin’s broad stature filled the threshold.

“M’eudail.” His voice was tense with alarm. “What is wrong? Why are you out this late at night. You should be in bed resting.” His scolding was light, more concerned as he scanned her from her from head to toe. His shock became exasperation as he took note of her thinner silk dress.  “Where is your cloak?”

“I-I wanted to talk to you. I was up waiting.”

He had to lean forward slightly in order to hear her meek reply. He shook his head as he shrugged out of his jacket, stepping forward to wrap it around her shoulders. “I am sorry. I thought you would be asleep. Otherwise, I would have sent a note.”

She trembled at the feeling of his warmth encompassing her. “I’ll walk you back to our chambers…”
“No, I wish to speak to you here. Please.” Her voice cracked with a thinly veiled desperation. His eyebrows rose as he scanned her face.

After a brief moment, he nodded before wrapping an arm around her to guide her in with a hand placed gently on her lower back. She allowed him to lead her in, her arms tightening around herself as she heard him close the door behind them.

“You need to be resting, not straining yourself. You could have sent me a note, I would have come to you immediately.” He began, his fear and frustrations pouring out of his lips as he walked to stand before her.

“I needed out of that room Thorin. I needed to breathe. I needed to see you.” Her words tumbled out of her, rushed and clumsy as her thoughts. She stopped herself with a deep breath as she closed her eyes, willing herself to be composed.

She heard him sigh as he walked around her. Guilt stabbed at her again, hating that she was the cause of that sigh, of his weariness. She had failed him on such a spectacular level she couldn’t even begin to come to terms with it. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She could feel the heat of him as he stood in front of her, close yet not touching as he waited for her to open her eyes. She didn’t want to. She had seen too much disappointment and pain in his crystal blue depths. It was worse than the healing wound in her side, more tense than the tight scar that ran halfway across her throat.

“I am so, so sorry, Thorin.” She breathed out in an exhale. Her eyes fluttered open, tears glistening in their corners as she fought to contain them. “I do not mean to be difficult. I’m fighting so many thoughts and voices inside my head. I am so ashamed …” Her voice broke as a tear escaped unbidden down her cheek.

Her breath hitched as she felt his hand cup her cheek, brushing the tear away with his thumb. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

She shook her head sharply. “Yes, I do! This is all my fault, none of this would have happened if I had not come here, if I hadn’t run like a coward from my home. My Adad would be alive…”

“Valinn would have killed you right alongside him.” Thorin cut her off as he tilted her chin up so that she had no other choice but to look at him. “Nothing good comes from second guessing the past, there is no changing it. What is done is done.”

Her chest ached; a soft sob that was more of a hiccup left her chest as he tried to breath under his piercing gaze. He held her firm, there was no escaping it. “Never think that you coming here was in error. We were meant to find one another.” His tone was absolute as he leaned down, resting his forehead to hers. “You are the best thing to ever happen to me, Mistlynn. You breathed life back into me when I was barely living. You are the starlight in my night, remember?”

Tears escaped her eyes freely now, her lips trembling as his warm words washed over her, soothing the aches that had settled deep within her chest. “Everything happened as it was supposed to. All is well. You are safe, your people are safe.”  He slid his other hand down to rest on her lower back to pull her into an embrace as his other hand left her chin to trace her jaw gently before cupping the back of her head. “I want to help you silence those voices of your past, M’eudail. But I cannot if you do not let me.”

“You are helping me. You’ve done so much for me already; I’ll never be able to repay you…”

“You are my wife, Mistlynn. There is nothing to repay. Your issues are mine, remember?” Thorin huffed out in exasperation as he placed a tender kiss on her brow. “Why do you not seem to believe this? What can I do to get you to trust me with what haunts you? I cannot help you or understand what it is your dealing with if you don’t tell me.”

“I can’t tell you if I dont know how to put any of it into words.” She ground out as she allowed herself to place her palms against his chest so that she could feel the beat of his heart under her hand. He was so full of life; his strength radiated from him and surrounded her. She didn’t know what happened to her inner strength. It was as if it had been bled from her that day on the battlefield.

“I don’t know why; I just feel like a shadow of myself. Everything I fought so hard against all seems for nothing. My life, my history, my family, my people. There is no truth to any of it. And it makes me feel like I am an imposter. I’ve fought and bled for nothing.”

Only the sound of the roaring fire in the fireplace could be heard as Thorin stood there, processing her confession. “Look at me.” He finally stated firmly as he pulled back from her, so that he could look down at her.

She raised her head slightly until her gaze met his. She saw no anger or judgment in his eyes. Only acceptance and understanding.

“You have always been true to yourself Mistlynn. Just because you were told lies your entire life does not mean that you are an imposter. You have lived and fought with purpose. You stand up for what you believe in. You are a fighter.”  He gave her a small smile as he leaned down, to nuzzle her. “You even tied me to our bed so that you could go face Valinn alone, you fearless, stubborn dam. I’m still surprised you managed that while I slept.”

Mistlynn couldn’t help but giggle lightly at the memory. “I have a skillset for sneaking.” She murmured.

Thorin’s deep chuckle warmed her. “All will be well, Kurdunuh. Trust in that truth.”

She nodded as she savored the feel of him holding her close. “We will be talking about this more, when you are better.” He growled playfully, eager to pull her out of the sadness that had been clinging to her like a second skin. It was a look he never wanted to see on her ever again. “The fact you always seem to do the exact opposite of what I tell you do still is rather irritating.”

“I can’t help myself. It’s a natural reaction when you get all kingly on me.” She teased back. She had missed this. It had seemed like it had been an eternity since they had last bantered with one another, like they had when they had been dancing around their attraction and pull towards each other.

He snorted. “Kingly. I am not. Take it back.”

She huffed out a laugh as she allowed herself to lean against him fully, hands still splayed on his chest. “I think not.” She sighed. “I wouldn’t want you any other way.”  She let her eyes close, so that she could focus on the feeling of his hands on her lower back. Weariness was creeping in, much to her frustration. She hadn’t realized the late-night walk would drain her so quickly.

She heard him hum as he placed another lingering kiss on her forehead. “It is late. You should be in bed.” He began to rub her back soothingly, making her eyes even heavier.

She nodded, her eyes still closed. “Could you come to bed with me? I need you to …hold me. The nightmares…” she trailed off, her voice going faint as she felt his hands stop their path along her spine.

“Are they getting worse?” She felt his lips caress her temple, his question a rumble in his chest that made her tighten her grip on his shirt.

“No, not worse. Just…persistent.” She finally opened her eyes as she felt him pull away from her forehead. She met his worried gaze, giving him a soft smile she hoped would put him at ease.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He placed his hands on her upper arms as he studied her, his thumbs tracing comforting circles.

She shook her head again. “No. Not now. I will soon, I just-I want you to just hold me. It’s been so long since you have been able to.”

Thorin regarded her closely before nodding. “Very well. Just let me put the ink away and we can go.”
“If you need to finish, I can wait…” she began, her eyes scanning the various papers that were strewn across his desk, but he cut her off quickly as he cleaned up his workspace.

“I can finish everything in the morning.” He left no room for argument.  She watched him put the stopper in the ink pot and lock the papers in his drawer before pocketing the key. “There. That’s done. Let’s get you to bed.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her to the door.

She let him lead her down the walkway back to their quarters. She found herself snuggling into his side, savoring the warmth and weight of his arm around her upper back. It was a small relief, finally being able to tell him some of the ugly thoughts that had been lurking within the darker parts of her. She had half-forgotten they were still a part of her, and she wasn’t sure how she was going to sort them away again. She found herself wondering how she had managed to do so in the first place.

Chapter Text

Several weeks later…

Thorin sat at the head of the massive table, watching the council members before him. The exhaustion he felt was deep and settled within his very bones, yet his eyes were keen as he studied each member, noting the ones who seemed less likely to support his wishes of integration.

Every single member of the company were present, Fili and Kili directly to his left while Dwalin and Balin were directly to his right. Gloin, Nori, Bifur and Bofur were opposite of Dain, Dori, Oin, Bombur and Ori, facing each other directly. They were in full and unyielding support of their King and Queen, voicing strongly their agreement that the White Kingdom should become one with Erebor.

All eyes, most slanted and dark with suspicion and thinly veiled disgust, towards Markos and his chosen few representing the White Kingdom. Marko's grey wolf was at rest by his side, head up and ears perked forward, as if aware of the glares that were being passed its way.

"How do we know that this is not a ruse of theirs to overthrow the line of Durin from the inside?" An older Dwarrow, his peppered hair and beard was long and expertly braided with polished beads of gold. "The Queen, not once shared the important details of how large their army was or how strongly opposed her kingdom was to her union to our King." Brulin had been the first of the many nobles from Ered Luin to make the journey to take a place on the council. He held a lot of power in both trade and politics much to Thorin's irritation. He was much too assured of his standing, and he had never held his distaste of Thorin's One fully contained. He had always hoped that his daughter, Lady Briela, would have captured Thorin's attention.

That plan had failed abysmally. He couldn't argue or oppose the divine pairing of Ones, so he begrudgingly swore his fealty to Mistlynn as his Queen. However, his snide remarks and subtle sneers at the mere mention of Mistlynn had worn Thorin's patience thin.

"I'd be careful of where that thought might lead you, Brulin." Thorin's growl rumbled through the room with a heavy clarity. "If I didn't know better you were accusing your Queen of treason without any proof to back up that reckless accusation. "

The room buzzed with varied mutterings of anger and bitter agreement. Thorin's gaze was dark and lethal as he stared down Brulin who returned his stare challengingly. This was exactly what he had been worried about. He knew that this kind of talk had been brewing ever since Valinn had admitted to the raids of their mining towns, just another reason to add to their dislike of Mistlynn.

The majority of Erebor was supportive of their Queen, and Thorin's standing on the matter of the White Kingdom, but there were the few that were spreading their negativity and discontent like a slowly rotting disease. "Their so-called fealty is as fickle as the wind. Their loyalty lies only with themselves, they are no better than those savage dogs they rode in on." Brulin flashed his teeth in a rebellious sneer.

Thorin's fist clenched so tight that his rings began to cut into the sides of his fingers. He didn't blink once as his eyes became menacing slits; his head tilted to the side as he seemed to consider Brulin in a new light.

He was a new threat.

Shouts of outrage erupted around the room erupted as dwarves jumped up from their seats and began to yell and gesture back and forth. Thorin saw the looks of outrage on his nephews and friends faces, however they kept their responses amongst themselves.

Dain's face was red with outrage as he slowly stood from his seat, his finger pointed directly at Brulin, "Menu shirumund rakhas tumbin!" He spat, much to the shock of the dwarf he insulted. Brulin's face took on the shade of a deep purple, shocked that a royal member would insult him in such an unruly manner.

It was then the big doors opened forcefully, immediately silencing the room as everyone turned to look and see who it was that interrupting.

Markos and his chosen warriors immediately kneeled; their heads bowed in respect as Mistlynn stepped through the threshold, Luna limping slowly at her side.

She was dressed in a gown so dark a blue it nearly appeared black, clasps and thread of silver lined the bodice. Tiny beads of diamond glittered from where they were clustered tightly along with top of the bodice before cascading down her hips and the billowing skirt of the gown like star fall in the dead of a cold winters night. Her crown, the intricate companion of the Kings Raven Crown, was sat regally upon her head. Braids of varying sizes and shapes wrapped around her head while the other half of her hair was free and glowing platinum curls that hung loose down over her back. She held her head high, her hands clasped firmly in front of her as she surveyed the room before her, considering each occupant carefully.

Thorin stood from his seat, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "M'eudail." The whisper fell from his lips.

Her gaze softened when she looked at him, and she dipped her chin in his direction. Thorin pushed his seat back and walked to her quickly. "What are you doing here?" his tone was urgent, yet gentle as his eyes scanned over her.

"I am taking accountability of my family's mess. It is not yours to shoulder but mine. You were right, I am their Queen, I need to start acting like it." Her voice was unwavering, and Thorin fought to hide the rush of relief he felt surge through him. It had been so long since he had seen her fire, burning bright within her like a northern star.

"I dont want you to strain yourself." Thorin whispered as he took a step closer so that only she could hear. As he spoke, he looked at Luna who was sitting beside Mistlynn, protective and alert as always. She had noticed that Thorin was looking at her and she wagged her tail subtly on the floor. He brushed his hand fondly over her head and massaged one of her ears, eliciting disapproving murmurs from the meddlesome councilmembers that had just made themselves known.

Mistlynn's eyes narrowed towards them. "I have had enough time to heal. I will not leave you alone in this a moment longer." She placed a hand on his arm before she stepped towards Markos and those kneeling with him.

"Rise, please. I have much to thank you for Markos. Thorin has informed me of all that you have done while I have been recovering. I am indebted to you." Mistlynn nodded graciously towards him.

"My Queen, It has been an honor to be of service. I want our people to thrive after all these years of hardship and neglect." Markos kept his gaze down on the floor, pointedly ignoring the heated glares from the rest of the room.

Mistlynn's eyes snapped back up towards the rest of the room. "I am not as naïve to think that all that has occurred these past months has had no ill repercussions to my character here in Erebor. However, I will not tolerate you disrespecting my people who have bled and sacrificed to keep their families safe due to the shortcomings of my family. Nor will I allow you to disrespect my husband and King, who has done nothing but rule this kingdom honorably and safeguard your spineless backs as you sat in this mountain cowering at the first sign of trouble."

She raised her hand and pointed at Brulin, who was looking at her with thinly veiled disdain. "You couldn't forge a spoon even if it was handed to you molten and already poured into a mold. You have done nothing but instigate and sneak around sowing your seeds of decay ever since I stepped into this kingdom." Gasps echoed around the table, both of glee and shock.

"In case it has escaped your tiny, incompetent minds, I have at my disposal an army of at least 45,000 strong, not including the 8000 dire wolves and riders." Mistlynn turned back to face Thorin, her burning eyes of emerald fire meeting his stormy gaze unflinchingly. "As the Queen of the White Kingdom, I hereby pledge to you, my King and Lord husband, the entirety of my army and every resource at my disposal. Everything that is mine to give in this life and in the next is yours."

Thorin blinked in shock as she slowly kneeled before him, her eyes not once leaving his face. His mouth opened slightly, but she cut him off before he could say anything.

The murmurings around them grew as all eyes were on them. Markos and his men followed their Queen's lead and kneeled as well. "I must beg your forgiveness, my King, for not informing you of my Kingdom's standing on political and tactical fronts. I was not aware of the strife that was occurring within King Valo's council, or of the fact Valinn was so unstable and lost in his own delusions. If I had thought the White Kingdom was of any threat to Erebor or any other Dwarven Kingdom in the alliance I would have informed you immediately, without hesitation."

The room grew still, the silence loud after she finished speaking.

Thorin swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing as he fought to keep his expression passive. He took a step forward so that he could place a hand under her chin, her gaze still on his. His other hand reached for her hand and helped her stand once again, his fingers softly caressing the point of her chin. "You are my Queen. You bow to no one. Not even to me."

Her breath hitched at his words. Not once looking away from her, his voice rumbled through the silent room like thunder. "Leave us."

The sound of chairs scraping the floor as they were pushed back echoed loudly in the room, accompanied by mumblings of awe and disbelief as the councilmembers filed out quickly one by one. Markos and his men stood and nodded in respect before turning and walking out as well. Mistlynn saw the approving nods and knowing smiles of their friends and family from over Thorin's shoulder as he stood still before her, his heated eyes not once leaving her.

She heard Fili whistle for Luna to follow him out of the room, as he and Dwalin shut the massive doors behind them. They were now alone in the massive hall.

Mistlynn gulped, her steely nerve melting under his molten gaze. She blinked rapidly and licked her lips.

Had she done and said the wrong thing?

"Thorin, I…" She began before gasping as his mouth descended upon hers, swallowing her words whole and stealing her breath.

He grabbed her by the back of her legs and lifted her up so that he could carry her towards the edge of the table. His lips did not once leave hers as he continued to devour her. She returned the kiss eagerly, nearly desperate as she fisted the fabric of his jacket tightly, her knuckles white at the exertion of her vicelike grip. His hands wrenched the skirt of her dress up as he sat her down, so that the stockings on her legs were on full display as he stepped in-between them. One hand continued to travel up, pushing her skirt up even higher to bare her thigh before grabbing her by her hip and pulled her flush with his front.

His other hand came up behind her head, his fingers burying themselves into her silky curls. She moaned into his mouth as her tongue twisted with his before he pulled back, his kiss swollen lips descending onto her jaw, nipping and sucking little marks into her skin as he moved slowly down her neck as she arched into him.

"Thorin." She gasped his name as she wrapped an arm around his neck and gripped his shoulder. "Y-You're not upset?"

"God's M'eudail, no! I love you. I love you so much, my Goddess. My Queen." He whispered reverently against her neck, his breath hot against the tingle of open mouth kisses that made her skin prickle and spark with heightened sensitivity.

She whimpered at his onslaught, not from pain but from the rushing tide of pleasure that flooded through her. "G-gods, Thorin, please." She rocked her hips against his, no longer caring how wanton she appeared to be. "I-I need you. Now."

He groaned at her words, pulling his mouth away from her flushed neck back up to her kiss swollen lips. His lips moved languidly against hers. "I don't think that is a good idea. You're still healing." His hand came up to brush the curls that escaped her braids from the side of her face, his fingertips light against the soft skin of her cheekbone.

Her eyes flashed in irritation as she groaned at his words. "I am perfectly fine and capable of handling your attentions. Besides, you started this." Her hands moved down his front, grasping his shirt and pulling it out of the confines of his pants.

He huffed out a laugh as he watched her, his eyes glazed and heated as he felt her hands travel up and down his abs and chest before returning back down to loosen the laces to his trousers. "Would you like to move this to our chambers or are you wanting to break in this table as well." He nuzzled right at the spot beneath her ear that he knew would make her keen the moment his teeth grazed the delicate skin there.

She couldn't help the frustrated moan that escaped her, her hips shifting up into him eager to feel the friction only his body could provide. "It's only fitting after dealing a verbal thrashing to troublesome council members that are grossly overreaching."

His attention moved from her neck down her collarbone and to her heaving chest. The warmth of his breath made her shiver as he placed tender kisses across her chest, his beard teasing her pale skin into a pretty pink flush. "It won't be the last we hear of it, I am afraid. Brulin and his cronies are like damn wargs with a bone. He will be back with another wild hare he will demand he chase."

She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him flush against her while trapping him in the cradle of her thighs. She ignored the slight twinge in her muscles at the movement. She hadn't realized how desperate she had been for his touch until after he told her she was to bow to no one, including him. He empowered her.

She needed to feel something stronger than the guilt and pain that had been consuming her since she woke up from the battle with Valinn. He was the only one who could give her what she craved, what she needed to piece herself back together again.

"Let him." She whispered against his mouth before she bit down gently on his bottom lip. She buried her hands into his hair and pulled his face down closer to her so that she could deepen the kiss. He followed her willingly as he wrapped an around her waist to pull her impossibly closer, so that no space was left between them.

"As my Queen commands." His husky whisper made her toes curl in anticipation as she yielded to him, melting under his heated touch as her body came alive.

*******************************

Several days later…

Erebor had been alive and nearly bursting with the sudden influx of inhabitants. There were a large amount of her people, mostly family groups, that were preparing to leave with Dain and his convey back to the Iron Hills to begin anew.

Their days had been filled with taking accounts of all the family names and groups while combining the historical accounts that had been salvaged on the trek inland towards the Lonely Mountain. Balin, Dis and Ori had overseen the majority of the record keeping, while Mistlynn, Thorin, Fili and Kili had worked with Markos to get everyone else settled.

It was tiring yet rewarding, feeling as if she was finally doing something for the better, not only for her people, but herself. She was helping heal centuries of misunderstanding and pain, and it was beginning to feel like she was closing in on a feeling that felt a lot like peace. She was able to see the light at the end of the tunnel, and she was eager to reach it, for her life to go back to its new normal. She was eager to put all that pertained to the White Kingdom behind her once and for all.

She had been working with Marko's, helping finalize the list of families leaving for the Iron Hills when Dis had come to get her. High ranking nobles from a dwarven clan far East were seeking an audience with Thorin, which was an anomaly on such short notice. Dis didn't seemed worried about their surprise visit, while Mistlynn couldn't help but feel uneasy about more unexpected visitors.

Thorin had told her about his meeting with the seven Dwarf Lords along with their councils before his fateful quest to retake Erebor, and the silence from the Blacklock and Stonefoot clans made him suspicious in regard to where their allegiance truly lay.

"They hail from where in Arda?" Mistlynn inquired in a low voice as she walked alongside Dis towards the main meeting hall.

"The Blacklock's main city is a close kept secret; they will only meet outside of their kingdom to safeguard it. All we know is that they are somewhere in the mountain ranges of Rhun."

"Is it not odd for them to just show up unannounced?" Mistlynn couldn't keep the skepticism from her tone.

"It is. But Daruuk is an honest dwarrow, he has always been courteous towards our people and hasn't shied away from voicing his respect for Thorin." Dis offered Mistlynn a comforting smile.

"He didn't offer Thorin aid in taking Erebor back. Only was the only one to help in the end, was he not?" Mistlynn tried to keep judgement out of her voice as she tried to piece together the vast history of dwarven politics she had to learn in such a short time.

Dis nodded patiently. "Yes, Dain was the only one in the end. But Daruuk was quick to send word that his own family issues had interfered with his ability to offer aid. I have a feeling this visit pertains to those issues."

Mistlynn couldn't help but wrinkle her nose in distaste at the mention of familial issues. "Relieved to know my family wasn't the only one to experience issues, as you so eloquently put it."

Dis bit back a chuckle. "Not even the most peaceable of families are without strife, Mist."

Mistlynn snorted but chose to not say anything else as they drew close to the meeting hall. She couldn't think of anything that wasn't purely dripping with sarcasm and Dis didn't deserve to bear the brunt of her cynicism.

Dis looked over at her as if she could hear the thoughts running through her head. "One day at a time, dear heart. Remember that." She smiled encouragingly at her as she reached over to give her hand a quick squeeze. "You will find Daruuk intriguing, I'm sure. He always has the most beautiful stories to tell."

Mistlynn gave Dis a reserved smile as she nodded in reply. She could hear the deeper tone of Thorin's voice from the other side of the doorway. He sounded relaxed, perfectly at ease with whoever he was speaking to. That gave her some measure of comfort.

Dis walked through the doorway, a genuine smile on her face as she announced their arrival. "Daruuk. You look well." She greeted warmly as she approached.

"Dis. Its warms my heart to see you all at home in the halls of your forefathers." The deep voice of their visitor reached her ears as she followed after Dis, the distinctive dialect of their guest making her freeze mid step as obscure memories assaulted her.

Her gaze instantly found their guests, and she couldn't stop her eyes from widening as she took them in. That sense of familiarity hit her again as she took in their darkened, sun kissed skin and coal black hair and beards. Their clothes were of a bright crimson, almost identical to a molten sun on a hot horizon.

Mistlynn blinked rapidly was flashes of vague faces and distorted voices barraged her.

She could visualize that red silk, bright and glaring like blood upon the snow scape of the frozen tundra she once called home. She felt the blood drain from her face. That voice … his face … standing next to her Adad. Laughing. Shaking hands.

Her hands clenched at her side, shaking as her confusion quickly became anger.

Thorin was standing next to Dis, Balin, Fili, Kili and Dwalin as they conversed with their guests, unaware of the internal battle of chaotic yet lethal wrath that was surging throughout her at an alarming rate. He turned his head to look in her direction, ready to introduce her but was caught off guard at the sight of Mistlynn reaching down to her boot and pulling out the dagger he made her.

His eyes grew wide in alarm, making everyone look over towards her as she began to advance towards Daruuk, her eyes menacing slits as she held her dagger offensively.

"Mistlynn!" Thorin yelled incredulously as he moved to intercept her.

"Men shmek menu!" she growled viciously as she stalked towards Daruuk, who was looking at her as if she was a ghost that had come back to haunt him. The dwarrows behind him had the same expressions of shock on their faces as they scrambled to reach for their sheathed weapons.

"Yavanna have mercy." Daruuk's rich voice stammered as he took a step back as he watched Thorin grab Mistlynn around the waist, effectively pinning her arms to her side. His dark skin seemed to pale as he watched Mistlynn struggle against Thorin's grip, her eyes still trained on him as she snarled at him, her eyes wild.

"Mistlynn. Stop!" Thorin growled as he forced her to release the dagger, so it clattered onto the ground next to their feet.

"I know you!" Mistlynn spat viciously, still fighting against Thorin with a frightening strength, despite her still healing body. "I know your face!"

Dis held her hand up to cover her mouth in dismay, as Fili and Kili grabbed her and pushed her towards the door, their hands on their swords as they faced the Blacklock's who had also taken a shocked, yet defensive stance.

Balin stepped in between Mistlynn and the Blacklock dwarrows. "My Queen!" He pleaded, his voice shaking with worry as he watched Thorin struggle to subdue her thrashing as she continued to try to free herself from his grasp.

"Mistlynn?" Daruuk held his hand up, motioning his men to re-sheath their weapons as he continued to look at her in disbelief.

"Mahal. She looks just like Iovalyn." One of the older dwarrow standing behind Daruuk uttered.

Mistlynn felt the fight leave her as the dwarrow spoke the name she hadn't heard spoken aloud in over a century. She collapsed fully against Thorin, her mouth agape in shock. "W-what did you just say?"

"Ma shandi." Daruuk couldn't seem to tear his gaze from her face. "Is it really you? His eyes shot up to Thorin's "Valos said she died, alongside Iovalyn in the uprising."

Mistlynn bristled at the sound of her Adad's name being spoken. Before she had the chance to respond to Daruuk, Thorin spoke first, his tone commanding as he positioned Mistlynn under his arm, as if trying to shield her as he studied Daruuk with suspicion. "Why do you speak as if you know my wife and her family?"

Daruuk looked back over his shoulder towards his comrades, who were shifting nervously on their feet as they whispered amongst herself. "Surely this is a ruse." One of the Blacklock's muttered darkly, "How else is this to be explained. It's impossible."

"Is it?" Daruuk shot back. "Valos gave us no details, he just vanished after that dispatch was sent." He looked back at towards Thorin. Dwalin, Fili and Kili were now flanking Thorin and Mistlynn. Dis was standing next to Balin, all eyes trained on Daruuk and his men. "Great Yavanna, Mistlynn. You look just like her, I wouldn't be able to tell you apart if she were standing here before me." His tone was disbelieving. "How? How did you come to be here?"

"Answer my question first." Thorin growled. "How do you know of Mistlynn and her family?"

"I was friends with her parents." Daruuk spoke softly, regret etched on his face.

"I was not aware you had such close dealings with the White Kingdom. Given their past affiliations with such dark matters, I am shocked you seemed to be on such friendly terms with the late King Valos." Thorin cocked his head to the side as he studied Daruuk closely, trying to determine if his obvious show of grief was genuine.

Daruuk sighed deeply, his gaze shifting between Mistlynn and Thorin, before acknowledging the on-guard bearing of Dwalin, Fili and Kili. Nervousness flickered in his eyes. "You are aware of my brother's particular … views." He stated ruefully. "He was my King, and as the younger brother I held no sway in anything. I was always upfront about that."

Thorin watched Daruuk's shoulders sag slightly, "That was the main reason for my visit. There has been a divide in our clan. I, along with half of our people have removed ourselves from my brother's kingdom. We are now refugees. We are seeking asylum until we can determine our next steps."

"We are sorry to hear that, Lord Daruuk." Balin gave his sympathies as he shared a look with Thorin. Dwalin, Fili and Kili relaxed their stances as they watched the tension in Thorin's demeanor lessen.

"There were whisperings of an unknown dwarven clan that had marched against Erebor and the Iron Hills. We have not heard from King Valos since he cut off all ties over 100 years ago, much to my brother's never-ending ire." Daruuk's gaze once again fell on Mistlynn, who had remained as still as stone as she listened to the exchange. "If he knew she was still alive …" he trailed off as he shook his head. "He would be enraged."

Thorin stiffened again, his arm around Mistlynn's waist tightening as his eyes narrowed. Mistlynn's nostrils flared in rage. "King Valos is dead. He was murdered by Valinn, as was my younger brother. I was not aware of his schemes until he showed up here and tried to take Erebor with force." She spat her Adad's name, along with Valinn's with ill-concealed contempt.

Daruuk's eyes widened in shock as he grimaced, as if pained by the news. Mistlynn felt her anger flare hotter as the reality of the situation hit her fully. "And why Is it that this King I have never met, your brother as you say, would be enraged that I was alive or not? When I left the Northern Wastes, I stumbled across Thorin and his men on the outskirts of the Lonely Mountain, I've never met any other King of any other dwarven clan." She stepped out of Thorin's hold, glaring at Daruuk challengingly. "My Adad never once spoke your name or of any arrangement with any other dwarven clan. Why would he keep such a thing from me?"

"It was King Varric, your Gamul'adad, who arranged the marriage alliance between our clans. You were promised to my nephew, the prince. When Valo's called off all other dealings after he told us of how you and your Amad were killed in the uprising, my brother was enraged."

"What uprising? My Amad died in childbirth. My Gamul'adad succumbed to his grief."

"You were young." Daruuk gave her a pitying look, as did his comrades that had come to stand alongside him. "I was sent to speak with Valos after we received his dispatch. When we arrived at your main settlement … we came across thousands slain, your Gamul'adad's head was mounted on a spike in the middle of where your tented city once sat." Daruuk paused as he looked from Mistlynn's stunned face back to Thorin's.

"Your clan had disappeared, without a trace."

"No." Mistlynn gasped. "You're wrong. I- I would have remembered…" she felt Thorin walk up behind her, his arm coming back around her waist to offer support. She couldn't think straight. Her mind was racing, frantically searching for any memory that would prove what Daruuk was saying as lies.

"My brother was most eager to join your bloodline with his, especially with the promise you showed as a dwarfling. Your abilities far surpassed those of your Amad's." Daruuk gave Thorin a pointed look. "He will see your marriage as nothing but an egregious slight. It won't matter to him that it was Valo's deception or not, he will hold you responsible for the slight, Oakenshield."

"We were not aware of any such promises." Balin started to say, but Mistlynn stepped towards Daruuk seethingly.

"I am not some chattel to be bartered and sold! And it is no fault of Thorin's that I was not aware of such a disgusting arrangement. If my Adad went through such lengths to conceal and spare me from such an alliance it was for a good cause."

Daruuk's serious expression grew soft as he looked at her with a startling fondness. It unnerved her. "Your parents were never thrilled with the alliance. It was made without their consent. They told me as much, as I said… they were dear friends of mine." He looked away from Mistlynn and watched as Thorin placed a consoling hand on the small of her back as she fought to steady her racing heart. "You are so much like your Amad. Yavanna preserve her soul." His voice broke slightly at the end, as if he was still grieving her passing.

"What do you mean by abilities?" Thorin kept his hand on Mistlynn's back, but he purposefully ignored the startled then betrayed look she shot him.

"Iovalyn was an Aria, and a powerful one. She could influence the shifting of the weather and summon the wind. Their unique lineage gifted the women of their royal line spectacular gifts that reached far beyond the traditional gift of dwarven Stone Singers or Elven magic."

"I dont know what you speak of. I have no such powers." Mistlynn growled defensively.

"There is no need to hide it from us. We all witnessed your gift manifest when you were not even five summers old. The youngest to ever manifest their power, your Gamul'adad boasted." The oldest looking Blacklock dwarrow stated seriously. "We all here saw it for ourselves."

Mistlynn felt as if someone had poured ice water over her head at his statement. She began to shake her head adamantly. "No. You are mistaken. I remember no such thing. You must have me confused with someone else." She wanted to look up at Thorin, who was still standing behind her solid and warm, but she stopped herself. She was scared of what his expression would hold. She could still feel his hand on her back, the pressure of his fingers gently rubbing a subtle pattern along her spine the only thing that was keeping her from fleeing the room.

The Blacklock's were staring at her, with looks mixed between concern and shock on their faces.

"What, exactly, do you remember?" Daruuk asked, his voice turning gentle.

Mistlynn swallowed the lump that was beginning to form in her throat. "We never spoke my Amads name. My Adad forbid it." She couldn't help her bottom lip from trembling as she took in a deep breath, bracing herself, determined to not show any further weakness. "I dont remember my Amad being able to wield these, abilities, you claim she possessed. Nor do I possess any … abilities. I dont know what it is you witnessed, but if my Gamul'adad is responsible of deceiving you all so thoroughly just to gain an alliance with your clan … I am truly sorry. But he misled you."

"Mahalu shirumund." The older Blacklock that had been speaking earlier, Daruuk's apparent advisor, mumbled disbelievingly as he leaned against the table.

"Valos … what in Mahal's name did you do?" Daruuk muttered in shock to himself as they all realized that Mistlynn truly didn't remember.

"What abilities did you witness her possessing?" Thorin's question broke the silence first.

"Thorin, please dont. They are mistaken…" Mistlynn looked at him imploringly as she finally looked into his face, denial and fear evident in her eyes.

"We cannot dismiss this M'eudail." Thorin's tone was apologetic, yet firm. "Your Adad took great lengths to hide these things. We need to know."

"He is right Lassie." Balin agreed as he tried to give her a comforting, gently smile. "It's better for us to have all the details, instead of being caught unaware, knowing nothing."

"We are here for you Mist." Dis finally spoke aloud as she approached to stand closer to her and Thorin. "Remember. Together."

Mistlynn pressed her lips together tightly as she mulled over their words before giving them a jerky nod to continue. She looked back at Daruuk, who was still looking at her with sympathy.

Indignation rippled through her in a heat wave. She didn't want his pity. Whatever memory he was trying to hold on to regarding her parents and herself, she didn't want to know. It did nothing to help heal any of what had already come to pass. She wanted it all burned to ash, just like her Adad's remains, to be forever lost on the wind.

"She was blessed with an affinity to all living things. All manner of creatures trusted and yielded to her when she sang. She could mimic their sounds flawlessly. Although it was nothing spectacular at first. It was only when her and Valinn stumbled upon an iced over cave of a slumbering frost drake. We were there to discuss plans of an alliance, and we were not far from the main settlement. They had fallen into the cave, awakening the beast. Before it could attack us, she raised up her tiny little hands and began to sing. It was unlike anything we had heard before. The frost drake lowered its head and bowed before her. It could have swallowed her whole, but instead it yielded to her before it turned and flew off. She was just barely five summers old."

You could have heard a pin drop in the room. Mistlynn felt every pair of eyes on her as she searched through her deepest, darkest memories, only to find nothing but fog. "I – I dont remember that." She swallowed thickly as sweat began to prickle her skin and her chest grew tight. Panic was starting to settle in her bones.

Why couldn't she remember these things?

It was as if they were talking about someone else, perhaps herself in another distant past life.

Thorin must have registered the change in her breathing because he reached for her hand quickly, The pressure of his fingers intertwining with hers as he pulled her to his side, grounding her as the throbbing of her frantic heartbeat and the pitched ringing that had been growing loud in her ears dulled. Small bursts of fresh air returned to her lungs.

"Your brother has no idea that she is here? That she is alive?" Thorin looked directly at Daruuk as his hold on her tightened. She allowed herself to sink into his body, letting her eyes slide shut as she desperately tried to quieten her frantic thoughts.

"No." Daruuk answered softly. "And he won't hear of it from us. All I know is that he has heard rumors of a clan that challenged you and Dain over a dam, and that you managed to disband them quickly with barely any casualties of your own. For now, he poses no threat to you."

Thorin nodded, a meaningful look passing between the two dwarrows.

"You two are One's?" Daruuk asked after a moments hesitance.

"Yes." Thorin's reply was simple and firm.

"I am glad of it." Daruuk smiled. "Iovalyn and Valos would have been thrilled that she had found her One, of that I have no doubt. My congratulations to you both."

An infuriated growl ripped out of Mistlynns chest. She tore her hand from Thorin's grip as she took a step towards Daruuk, giving him a menacing look. "You think you knew my Adad, but you are mistaken. He didn't care about me! He removed me from his line of succession and cast me off to serve in his ranks when I was barely 11 summers old and blamed me for my Amads death. He was too obsessed with hunting his precious frost drakes than to care about whether I was happy or loved. All the kindness and love you speak of died with my Amad when he laid her to rest in the sea. You. Know. Nothing." She relished the look of anguish that took over Daruuk's face before she turned and stormed out of the room.

She ignored them all as they called out her name as she broke into a run.

She had promised Thorin that she wouldn't run anymore. But this was too much. She wasn't running from him and she hoped that he would understand that. She was running from the past that kept rearing its ugly head. She was running from the unknown that made her question everything she thought she knew about herself.

It seemed she hadn't overcome anything that day in the battlefield when she bested Valinn.

Valinn had only been the precursor to the storm.

Chapter Text

Thorin knew she wouldn't be in their room, or in any other public space where anyone could happen upon her by mistake. Daruuk had shaken her to her core, he knew that without a shadow of a doubt. So soon after the battle with Valinn, when she had barely just accepted the death of her Adad and all the doubt that had been drudged up amid everything.

He knew he had barely scratched the surface. Her entire kingdom had been built upon strictly kept secrets born of betrayal and hurt. However, he would be lying to himself if he didn't act like discovering the Blacklock's had been close to the White Kingdom, forming marriage alliances and treaties with a kingdom of legend.

It disturbed him. He didn't like being caught off guard.

He had known Daruuk and his brother since they were children, and the White Kingdom had never been mentioned. King Thror's connections with the Blacklock's had been feeble at best, but he knew from a young age that his Gamul'adad preferred to keep those he distrusted close.

How had anyone else not known about Mistlynn's kingdom? Did other Dwarven clans know of their existence? Were the Longbeards purposefully kept in the dark about the White Kingdom?

Too many questions with no solid answers.

"Always keep your enemies close, and those who claim to be allies even closer. Those are the ones who will turn the quickest. No one is truly your ally." That had been drilled into him from the very beginning. King Thror had trusted no one, a trait he had learned from a young age that he still fought against constantly. Distrust had been a product of Thror's greed and paranoia. He would not honor or carry on those dark and twisted parts of his families legacy.

He wanted to be better. He wanted to build a kingdom full of peace and plenty. He wanted that for his children, his grandchildren, his people.

He wanted that peace for Mistlynn. He wanted it so desperately, he would rip the world apart and put it back together just to see her smile again, to unburden her from the pain of her families past.

He would find an end to this web. She was no longer a prisoner of her ancestor's darkly kept secrets, a pawn to be used in her Gamul'adad's and Adads twisted games. He didn't care that she possessed magic, not really. And he would make damned sure that no one would use her or shun her for what was beyond her control. Her own Adad had done that to her.

Never. Again.

Driven by his thoughts, his feet led him to the observatory above the library. He found the torches in the winding stone stairway lit.

What used to be his and his Amad's sanctuary was now hers. His heart swelled at that realization. He wouldn't have it any other way.

He made his way up with steady steps, each passing second the air grew colder and fresh as the wind carried down the brisk mountain air. The massive door that led out to the observatory deck was open wide, Luna was guarding the entrance. She was as still as a statue except for her tail, sweeping the floor quickly as he approached her.

"Good girl. Keeping her safe for me." He brushed the top of Luna's massive head fondly, his fingertips rubbing her velvety ears just the way she liked. Luna tipped her nose up so that she could lick his hand with her warm tongue.

"You found me." He heard Mistlynn's voice whisper on the breeze. It was soft. Resigned.

"Did you doubt that I would?" He looked over to where she was sitting on a bench, her arms wrapped around herself as a shield from the crisp air. She wasn't looking at him, rather, she was looking up at the sky, studying the cloistered star scape before her as if she was seeing it again for the first time.

He watched her lips twitch, a ghost of a smile at his words. "No."

He gave a final scratch under Luna's muzzle before he approached her, his eyes not leaving her face as he studied her. He noticed her eyes were rimmed red, her cheeks ruddy with dried tears and the brisk temperature of the evening. His jaw clenched as his heart twinged. It was an uncomfortable, listless feeling to recognize and feel the phantom pain of her aching heart. Seeing it with his own eyes made the connection stronger. It had nearly driven him mad the past couple months. Feeling it all, yet unable to fix any of it.

He sat directly across from her, bracing his elbows on his knees as he scanned her face. His chest ached in tandem with each beat of her heart, every shaky breath that escaped through her lips.

"You are looking at me as if you can feel me." Her chin dropped as her eyes flicked to meet his own.

"That's because I can. But I need to hear your words." He clasped his hands together so that he could rest his chin atop them, his gaze not once leaving hers.

He watched her the muscles of her throat clench as she swallowed. "Why is it that you can feel me, but I cannot feel you?"

"Why do you think, Mistlynn?" He returned, his tone patient and steady.

Mistlynn let out a small, self-depreciating chuckle as she placed her palms on either side of her thighs, bracing herself as she rocked slightly back and forth. "I dont know why. Truly. You are the only one I have ever bared my soul to."

"It's not about baring your soul. It's about letting yourself feel." He watched as frustration made her nose wrinkle.

"I am trying Thorin." Her voice became quiet, her gaze set firmly on the stone floor beneath them. "I feel as if I can at moments, and I can grasp that essence of you with my fingertips. Then, without warning its gone again. As if I was imagining it."

"I know you are trying." He leaned forward more, hoping she would look back up at him. He wanted her to look at him on her own, without the encouragement of his touch.

He felt her emotions surge, all interwoven and overwhelming. He hated seeing her struggle. "It will come. For now, all I need is your words. Spoken aloud."

She shifted again, her grip tightening than releasing on the edge of the bench as she tried to find the words to fully describe what she was feeling. "I feel as if I am adrift, lost on the outgoing tide." she states, voice soft.

Thorin nodded, not surprised at her description. He had suspected as much. "Tell me what you need."

She looked at him after a moment's silence. "I need to speak with Valinn. He said some things…when we fought. I need to know what he knows."

Thorin inhaled sharply. "I would prefer it if you didn't. I want you nowhere near him."

"He's my brother." Mistlynn began.

"He nearly killed you." Thorin voice cracked as if it pained him to utter the words.

"He is in a cell. He can't hurt me anymore." She gave him a pleading look. "I need to know, Kurdun. I dont want to be kept in the dark any longer."

He sighed deeply, looking up at the sky as if it held the answer he was seeking for himself.

"Come with me to speak with him." Mistlynn pleaded as she scooted closer.

"How can you be sure he will not lie to you?" Thorin gave her a pointed look. "He has nothing to gain by telling you anything."

"If he thinks the truth will hurt me, he will tell me."

Thorin shook his head, not bothering to hide the disgusted look on his face. "It's inconceivable, the depth of his hatred." He stood abruptly and began to pace. "There has to be another way, to find what you're looking for. Your people are here now, someone else must know."

"It is only women in my family who carried this …ability. I doubt anyone else knows any more than I do. My Adad made sure of that." Mistlynn stood, placing a hand on his chest to stop his pacing. "Come with me, if it will put you at ease. But I will be speaking with him. I have no other choice."

"If he steps out of line just once …" He warned, his eyes dark and menacing as the starlight flashed in their depths.

Mistlynn nodded. "We will go. I promise."

Thorin pursed his lips in thought, his head cocked slightly to the side as he studied her. "If I were to say no, you would go the very moment my back was turned." He stated matter-of-factly as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Mistlynn bit her bottom lip, the corners of her mouth curving down into a pained grimace "Please do not make that my only option. It is rather stressful to go against you, I would rather us be a united front."

"Could have fooled me." His eyebrow quirked up before he snorted.

"Contrary to what you may believe, I do not relish you being upset with me." She poked his shoulder playfully with her finger. "When you are being a brute, you dont give me much choice."

Incredulous laughter escaped his chest as he shook his head. He reached for her hands, unwrapping them from around herself so that he could thread his fingers through hers as he pulled her closer. "You act as if your life holds no meaning; that you are not the holder of the heart that beats inside my chest." His forehead rests against hers. "When it concerns your safety and wellbeing, you cannot fault my brutish tendencies."

"I suppose not." Her lips curled into a rueful smile for a brief moment. "I am sorry … for overreacting."

Her gaze flitted up to look him in the eyes, her smile turning into a grimace of regret. "I dont remember much … from my childhood. Seeing his face … hearing his voice … brought back so many confusing emotions, flashes of memories I wasn't aware I had…" she trailed off, dropping her gaze from his before squeezing her eyes tight as she fought to find the words. "It caught me off guard. After what Valinn did I just … lost myself."

Thorin hummed lowly, the low vibration coming from his chest comforting her. "It is … understandable." He agreed. "What I find odd is that no one seems to remember what truly happened. Daruuk connection with your parents was … unexpected."

Mistlynn bit her bottom lip. "I feel like those who would have stood up against the uprising, or what my Adad was doing …." She shook her head, "Daruuk said they came across thousands of bodies Thorin … just left there. Why do I not remember that?" her voice began to shake with frustration.

"You were young, you had just lost your Amad."

"You remember your childhood." She ground out. "You survived Smaug destroying your home, murdering your people, you lost your Amad and Gamul'amad, and yet you remember everything so clearly!" Her eyes were almost wild as she searched his gaze, desperate for some sort of explanation that just made sense.

Thorin's expression grew somber, sadness making his eyes soften as he looked down at her. "I've never run from my past, M'eudail. I never wanted to escape it." He spoke softly.

Mistlynn flinched as if his words had struck her. Her fingers flexed, as if she was trying to pull away from him as his words continued to sting.

Thorin sighed gruffly, his hands gripping hers tighter as he pulled her closer so that he could wrap his arms around her. "I didn't say that to be spiteful. There is no need for you to be ashamed. It's how you survived, and I will never begrudge you that." His lips brushed against her cheek softly as he nuzzled her, trying to soothe the hurt. "That was then. We have to face it now, and I am here with you. There is no need for you to run from your past any longer."

"You make it sound so easy." Her voice wobbled. "What of Daruuk's brother? If he finds out …"

"Let him try to take you from me." His voice deepened, low and menacing while he spoke with a deceptive calmness. "I've been looking for a reason to dethrone his pompous arse." His hand traveled up her body to grasp the underside of her jaw. Her heart skipped a beat at the feeling of his unyielding grip holding her in place, so that he could trail a path of soft kisses across her jaw and down the other side of her neck.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she surrendered to his touch, losing herself to the feeling of his arms holding her up as he kissed her under the dark blanket of countless stars.

His fingers slid to the base of her skull, his fingers sinking into her silky curls before they tightened their grip. A faint moan escaped her parted lips at the sensation, her free hand grasping his coat tightly in an attempt to ground herself to him.

"I …" his lips were tracing back up her neck, his words reverently whispered into her skin. "…will never …" His lips traced over her racing pulse, following the sharp line of her jaw back towards her lips. "…let you go." A fierce promise, spoken softly against her parted lips as his tempest gaze bore into the star dusted pools of her eyes.

"Never." He whispered, the sensual gesture making her short of breath as she nodded.

For a moment, she felt the ferocity that raged through him to protect her with every fiber of his being, his unyielding love and devotion rushed through her. Her innermost shadows retreated instantly, as she allowed herself to feel him fully, just for a moment before it became too much for her to bear.

"Good." She breathed against his lips, a final confession before she was lost to his ravenous kiss. It was under the stars she allowed herself to be swept away by him, becoming lost in one another in the only place she ever felt close enough to touch the heavens with her fingertips.