A Willing Heart

Eighteen

Author’s Note: (1) I’ve tried to stay within Tolkien canon from the very beginning of the story, but have decided to follow Richard Armitage’s ‘head canon’ for a certain character related to Thorin - as he spoke of about the back story he wrote — that Dis, Thorin’s younger sister, died in Erebor (in Tolkien’s appendices, she survived and accompanied Thorin and his people to the Grey Mountains where she bore Fili and Kili).

(2) The wedding ritual is loosely based on “Who’s the Bride? - A Dwarven Marriage” by the Dwarrow Scholar here: http://dwarrowscholar.mymiddleearth.com/2013/04/11/whos-the-bride-dwarven-marriage/

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Thrain was a dwarf with wide shoulders and an imposing countenance, second only to his father Thror.  He had lost his left eye in a battle long ago, giving him a fearsome look that never seemed to shift into anything else.  Across his forehead was a tattoo that made him look as menacing as the toughest warrior, though in the great halls of Erebor, Thrain was the king’s chief counselor.  

When the dragon Smaug overtook Erebor, he had been in the great hall listening to the rest of the counselors discuss matters regarding the state of the mountain.  Maybe it had to do with water or food, or even the state of relations between Erebor and neighboring towns, such as Dale.  Among the counselors with him was my father, Lord Migan.  As my father searched through the halls for my mother, staying longer than he should have within the poisoned halls of Erebor, Thrain stood by Thorin’s side defending the front gates.  All this my mother told me on her deathbed, the visions now taking residence in my dreams, just as they had in hers.   

My recollections of Thrain were scarce.  But the moment he was alone in the room with me, the memory of seeing him standing next to my father came back to me.  He had been present when I petulantly announced to King Thror that I was going to marry Thorin when I grew up.  And though my memory of who really sent Thorin to the jewelers’ work room was unreliable, it was Thrain who told Thorin to craft a circlet for “little Frigga to wear” for having earned it for my boldness.

But if I had been bold then, there was nothing to be bold about now.  I was filled with shame as he drew closer, wanting only for the floor to swallow me up forever.  How could I be caught so boldly kissing one who was about to be married to someone else?  I expected him to scold me, ready to ask for his forgiveness.  

Thrain watched me for a few moments, his eye narrowing as he took in the cloak that I now drew over myself, hiding the dress I’d been so proud of earlier.  I could feel him looking at me closely, studying the scar on the side of my face.  Instinctively, my hand went up to conceal it from him.

“When my son told the king and I that you had been found, it was my honor to tell Lady Lyssan the news,” he began.  “We were happy, of course, for why shouldn't we be? A child so long ago taken from us, now found at a time when we'd lost all hope for anything worth hoping for.  Since the dragon took our only home from us, hope is all we have left, you see.”

“For years, your parents searched for you,” he continued, his voice filling the room as he began to walk around me, studying me as I brought the cloak tighter about me.  “They offered reward after reward for any news of you.  Chests filled with jewels mined and crafted from deep within the depths of Erebor.”  

He chucked, though there was no mirth in it.  “And for years, men took us for fools by misleading us about your whereabouts.  Yet even when we suspected their game, your parents paid the reward because they kept the hope alive that one day they’d find you.  Did you know that despicable men — and dwarves — scarred innocent children just to collect the reward?  Two of them brought us their bodies as proof, for the children did not survive the scarring.”