So Comes Snow After Fire

11.i With Mirth and Good Cheer to End the Whole Year

Thorin was grateful the council meeting was nearly over; it had been a long day of overseeing preparations for the New Year's festival for the day after next, and more than anything, what he wanted now was something to eat and a tall mug of ale.

Across the great stone table, Balin was saying, "His Majesty has already heard my thoughts on an alliance, but for the benefit of the council, I will repeat them: we cannot stand against our enemies alone. Whatever support Thranduil will offer—in men, trade, intelligence—is to our advantage. And I think, as this council has discussed before, if the Elvenking is willing to treat with us now, we should pursue this chance." Here he turned his attention fully to Thorin. "If you have an alliance with Thranduil when the Seven Kingdoms meet, you prove yourself a circumspect and ready king. You show that connections with Erebor are a good investment, as it were, and for that, alliances with the Seven will come easier."

This statement was answered by approving nods from many around the table. Daín, too, made a gesture of concession, as he note, "I can't say I relish the idea of a connection with the folk who readily attacked my men, but I concede the tactical and political value of such a move." There was a pregnant pause as everyone seemed to await his true objection, which was sure to follow. Right enough, Daín went on, "Yet I maintain that a political alliance with Mirkwood is all the more reason to object to an elven marriage within your royal house."

"Tauriel doesn't have anything to do with this," Kíli returned swiftly. His tone was controlled, but Thorin caught the edge of tension in his voice.

Daín stared at Kíli, undeterred. "Don't you see: with an elf at your side, Thranduil would think he gains a say in the management of Erebor?" he said, as if the plain facts of the matter were more than enough to overcome Kíli's protest.

"As my wife, her first loyalty would be to me and the king I serve," Kíli argued, sounding equally certain that he voiced the truth. "If anything, she will ensure that Erebor is used fairly by her people."

Daín nodded, as if Kíli had merely proved the point for him. "Aye, they're her people, and she will return to them once her brief time here is over. Do you really think she can forget their needs for a few hundred years?"

Kíli took several slow breaths, but said nothing, and Thorin was impressed by his self-control.

"I should say their needs are much the same as ours," Balin interjected calmly.

Daín flashed the elder dwarf a glance, but did not challenge him.

Thorin broke in then. "Thank you, Lord Daín. Your objection has been noted." He glanced round at the other noblemen seated at the table; from their faces, most seemed reluctant to enter the discussion of such a sensitive topic. Although from the matching scowls on Fíli and Dwalin's faces, he supposed each of them, at least, was ready to defend his brother's position. Best to end the meeting now before this really did devolve into a family squabble.

"We can return to this issue at our next meeting," Thorin declared. "I suspect we could all benefit from the chance to rest and make merry before then."

As they left the council chamber, Thorin caught Kíli's shoulder, and the young dwarf glanced back at him, his brows drawn as if he expected a reprimand for something.

"You said she arrives tomorrow?" Thorin asked.

"Yes," Kíli answered, still somewhat apprehensive. "Tauriel will arrive late morning, and then I'm presenting her to Mother."

"Good," Thorin said, with as much warmth as he could manage. He was hungry, frustrated, and not exactly in the mood to discuss Tauriel's impending visit, but he did not mean for Kíli to interpret any of this as personal disapproval. "It's been a busy sennight and I don't remember exactly what we discussed."

"Aye." Kíli's expression lightened then. "I wanted to talk to you about where she will sit for the feast—later, of course," he finished, with a glance at those dwarves passing down the halls beside them.

"Of course," Thorin agreed. "Now let's get some supper; perhaps if we're lucky, we'll find they've cooked my ill-tempered cousin's boar." He wasn't quite sure where that jest had come from, but from Kíli's sharp and swiftly stifled laughter, he knew his nephew fully sympathized with the sentiment behind it.