Princess Under the Mountain

Page 6

As I watch the feasting and merrymaking, I am appalled at the table manners of most of my own people. My men have been known to be somewhat crude-- poor Bilbo did not know what to think of them, but they are a mild mannered bunch compared to Dain’s men.

My Thora looks positively ethereal comparatively. She could dine with elves and not appear out of place. She smiles, and laughs, and chats. But she is never raucous or overloud. She doesn’t laugh with a mouth full of food or spill more ale than she drinks, though not having as much of a beard may help some. I watch her from behind Dain and occasionally point these things out to him.

For her part, Thora is coolly polite to him throughout the meal and as soon as she feels it is polite enough to do so, excuses herself. Balin and my other men follow.

She asks them to show her the treasure room. They are hesitant, but after I whisper my approval to Balin, he consents.

~*~*~*~

“What I’m wondering is, if we recast these things, would they still carry the dragon sickness or would that at least lessen the effect? Could dragon sickness be purified out of them?”

"It certainly wouldn't hurt," Bofur agreed.

"Dain would throw a fit," Dori worried.

"That's quite a bit of work though, Lass." Balin warned.

"I understand that, and I'm not asking for anything I'm not willing to do myself. I'm asking, is it possible?" She reached out to touch one of the piles of gold coins. "I don't want my people to keep getting this sickness of the mind so I want to give much more of this away, but by the same token, I don't want to pass the dragon sickness on to others either. Is it worth a try?"

All agreed and after bidding them good night, Balin lead her back to her rooms for the night.

Over the next few days Thora began exploring more and more on her own. She learned the halls quickly, learned and greeted the kitchen staff by name, and took her turns at the forges.

Dain had not been pleased with her plan at first, but the more of the hoard they cleansed, the better he began to feel, and he realized that she had been right. The more knowledgeable she became in regards to running the kingdom, the more he came to respect her.

Balin was musing over a large map carved into a wall when she stumbled upon him during one of her explorations. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you, sir. I will continue on my way."

She curtsied and was about to leave when he smiled at her sadly. "No, lass. Come and I will tell you something about your father." She obediently joined him and waited for him to begin. "Do you know what this map is of?"

She looked up and at a glance recognized the notations and images. "The Dwarf kingdom of Kazad-Dum. The sacred halls of Moria, where Mithrill came from."

"Very good. You have studied well."