Rue (A Thorin Oakenshield/Hobbit Fanfiction)

8

The next few years passed peacefully for the people of Erebor and Dale, with little interruption to their prosperity. The gold and riches of the heart of the mountain only grew more plentiful and valuable as time passed, for the dwarves labored strenuously each and every day for the success of their kingdom. If the influx of travelers hadn't already been enormous, it grew to be rapidly as word spread of the riches of the dwarves. People of all races came to admire the markets of Dale, full of silk and spices from every corner of the world, and journeyed further into the mountain to explore its vast and plentiful depths. The royal family could not be happier, for if their kingdom was prosperous, then it's people were satisfied, and that was all the rulers could ask for.

Thorin and Talia had grown closer each day, much to the excitement of those around them. They would never forget the strongest look of reluctance that Dwalin had upon handing his coins over to his older brother, scowling at his loss, yet smiling at the joy of the coupling. The Queen had come to visit Talia's mother almost every day following the news, mainly to gossip about the two; Talia could hardly stand to be in the same room as them sometimes. Though they weren't courting, as was typically the standard for princes, everyone knew they had never been the proper sort. The people didn't mind, for it was all the same to the kingdom. They grew to expect the transition of Talia's title from Butcher of Beasts to Queen Under the Mountain.

"Mahal, Balin! You too?" Talia exclaimed, rolling her eyes at the dwarf's antics. As the four had begun their walk through Dale on a cold winter's eve, he had made eyes at a jeweler selling lovely wedding bands on the side of the street, much to the new couple's annoyance.

"Talia, it was always me. From the very beginning."

"Can't I get a break? The one day of the year where I beg you to celebrate me, must we chose a subject I do not wish to celebrate?"

"It may be your birthday, lass, but there's no escaping us." Dwalin said, ignoring Talia's scowl.

"What, is this a personality trait of yours?" Thorin fired back, grinning at Talia's new look of amusement.

"If that's what it takes..." The elder brother began.

"Then yes." The younger one concluded, exchanging a happy glance with Balin.

Talia only sighed, taking Thorin's hand and leading them forward. "Come on. I could really use a drink."

"OI! Lass! Wait for us!"

Thorin could only shoot a look back at the brothers as Talia dragged him on, as if to say, You asked for it.

They finally reached the Crooked Chimney, downing their pints in no time as they began celebrations in their usual booth. Just like on the eve of Thorin's birthday, the lunchtime meal between the four of them was filled with toasts, gifts, songs, and cheers. Talia expressed her immense gratitude for the day, preparing to pay for the bill, but Thorin snatched it away, shaking his head and handing the coins to the barkeep. "It's for my sake. If my grandfather found out you had paid on your birthday, I would surely be gutted before I made it back to the mountain."

"Speaking of the mountain, I believe we must be off to dinner!" Dwalin chuckled, climbing out of the booth and bowing deeply to Talia before offering her his hand.

"Didn't we just eat?" She giggled at his dramatics, which had turned quite a few heads, and took it, allowing him to lead them back to Erebor with Thorin and Balin in tow.

"Yes, but, clearly, Thror wants to fatten you up like a roast pig." Balin said, closing the door of the pub gently behind him. "You're practically his daughter; he cannot resist the urge to spoil you."