Where she is right - The story of Dís, daughter of kings.

22

Half an hour later the gong sounded again and called the guests into the large hall for the banquet. Thorin led Alwa among the many dwarves, elves, men and women to the sumptuous gift table. It were in fact three round tables of different sizes, one above the other, covered with white linen and nearly bending under the load. An Erebor of exquisite presents from all over Middle Earth piled up in front of them.
Alwa looked at it absent mindedly, while Thorin's gaze sought the sword. Orcrist! There it lay. He was honestly glad to have the magnificent weapon back. And he also saw that Dáin had not mentioned that Thranduil had completed his gift with a precious new scabbard.

Thorin was greatly astonished about the elven king. He had not made fun of Alwa's inappropriate comment but had been extremely considerate and polite in memory of Alwa's grandmother. The king himself had only heard of Wala. She had already died before his birth. But if even Thranduil was impressed by her, she must have been truly remarkable.

Thorin looked at Wala's granddaughter. She was still standing there, looking at some books on the pile of gifts. And she was barefoot again. When had she taken off her shoes? Thorin smiled to himself. This was certainly also remarkable somehow, but not really impressive though. He would have to take care of her. But he would gladly do it, he thought.

The official celebration took its course. There was a fulminant banquet with several courses, speeches were given, songs sung and countless toasts proposed. After an hour Dáin had already reached the point where Veri had difficulties talking him out of singing his favourite song about Thranduil.

Thorin held back with drinking. He was not particularly fond of these kind of festivities and on other occasions in the past he had always been able to leave a great part of the obligations to Dís, counting the minutes more or less to be done with it.

Today he had to shoulder all the duties alone, because Alwa began to get bored soon. She remained seated and Thorin was grateful for that but she leaned her head in her hand and began to play with the table decoration.

There were small, brightly polished semiprecious stones of all colours scattered on the tables and around the chandeliers and Alwa put them into odd patterns, murmuring strange names, pushing them together and starting over. Thorin listened with one ear to the speech of an emissary, trying meanwhile to figure out what she was doing.

"Hamal, Sheratan, Bahrani,...", she hummed softly to herself, placing the little round gems, seemingly careless in an oblique row.

Balin, who was sitting close by, watching her also, understood at last.

The next time Alwa pushed the pile of shining pebbles together, he held back her hand and took one of them.

He placed it in front of her and said:

"Regulus."

Alwa beamed at him. In no time at all she took eight more stones and distributed them on the table linen entirely at random in Thorin's opinion, reciting completely absurd names. Then she looked at Balin expectantly.

"The Great Lion", he said, clapping applause and laughing heartily.

And finally it fell like scales from Thorin's eyes. Constellations! Star constellations. And she was naming the single bright stars.

Thorin rose and thanked the emissary for his kind words politely. Another toast followed.

Alwa kept playing with the stones together with Balin now, but Thorin saw only fond, indulgent glances from the other guests. Strangely enough no one took umbrage at the new queen's peculiar behaviour.