Born from Stone (A Thorin Oakenshield story)

Turn the kites loose

To say that the day of the coronation was blessed by the Gods themselves, would have been a serious understatement. Ever since the sun dawned behind the rolling hills of Rhun, it was evident by the amazing colours that broke in the horizon that this was going to be a bright summer's day. As the soft breeze transferred the most soothing flower scents from the blooming forest of the River Running up to Dale, it also offered the up-drifts needed to help lift up the kites that the children had turned loose. They ended up sailing far above Erebor as the sun made it's bold appearance in the bluest sky the people of Esgaroth had seen in ages. Flocks of birds flew under the kite lines from the forest and then up to the top of the Lonely Mountain filling the plain next to the river with their happy chirping. The caws of Erebor's crows echoed stronger than any other bird, but that didn't scare away the smaller birds from making their appearances again and again around the hard rocks of the stronghold. Coming and going and trying to find small recesses in order to make their nests. Swallows, sparrows and thrushes had overtaken not only the forest of Erebor, but the stronghold itself and also Dale and Mirkwood forest.

A rippling cheerfulness was running all over Dale from the moment the sun came up and many if not all it's citizens were cleaning their homes and trying to find nice clothes to wear as this day was deeply important not only for Erebor, but for its moon city as well. As Dale's mayor, Bard had declared his allegiance to Erebor since the beginning, the people saw Thorin Oakenshield as their very own King, so his coronation was a major event for their city and they felt very protective towards it. They were getting ready to flock the gates of Erebor from very early on in order to manage to get a good spot in order to be able to witness the legendary King and his wife first hand. Mothers and daughters, sons and fathers were enveloped in euphoric excitement, as they wanted to look their best for this remarkable event. Besides everyone wanted to be able to partake in this unique experience so they could describe to their grandchildren one day that they had participated at the coronation of the renowned King of the North.

Dale's excitement though was a mere nothing in comparison to what was taking place in the Lonely Mountain. Every level, every cavern, every home and gathering area was overflowing with dwarves and dwarrowdams who were brimming with anticipation for this unforgettable day. Today they would be able to celebrate not only the reclaiming of these ancient lands, but also the rise of a King who was going to rule every single dwarven Kingdom of Middle Earth. Their kin hadn't experienced such glorious days since the raise of Durin and nobody wanted to miss the opportunity to partake in the creation of this new legendary era. From the lowest delvers to the highest Lords, everybody woke up at the first chimes of the golden bell. Dwarrowdams were rushing to clean themselves and makes each other's hairs and their husbands brushed thoroughly through their beards in order to create intricate braids. Their sons and daughters if old enough they helped their parents and if too young they tried to understand what this fuss was all about. The elders were gathering in all the common areas ready to share their old stories about these mighty strongholds of the north and how their honourable forefathers have lived through similar distinctions before these proud kingdoms were taken over by forces of darkness.

Nobody was left untouched by the illustrious events that were going to take place in Erebor's throne room today. Everybody knew that renowned cavern couldn't fit all of Erebor, Dale, the emissaries of Mirkwood and the Northmen, but still they hoped for a place close by, or at least a spot en route to it. Many were going to be left behind in this endeavour to view their King and Queen first hand and nobody wanted to be the unlucky ones. So one and all were rushing to get quickly down to the great entrance, the grant antechamber, the King's Halls and above all close to the throne room, if not in and around it. Something that was almost impossible to accomplish since that cavern was cut off to the common people by the royal guards. As it contained only three long dangling bridges, they kept that restricted available space for the King's court and the emissaries from the other cities. They did allow the commoners to flock the lower decks below the throne room, though. If one hurried they could get into a position where from the right angle they could catch a glimpse of the corridor the King was going to walk on and blessed Mahal, even a crooked view of the throne itself, but that spot had already been acclaimed by commoners since the first hours of dawn.