Title: Dares All Things

Author: Sibyl Moon

Fandom: The Hobbit/LotR

Genre: Fix-it/Canon Divergence

Relationship: Thrain/Eir (OC), Thorin/Bilbo (Future)

Word Count: 4577

Warnings/Rating: Political Intrigue, Discussion-Murder, Murder, Canon-typical-Violence. 

Summary: When Thror’s madness threatens not just the kingdom, but the safety of her children, Eir prays to Mahal. When that doesn’t seem to be enough, she prays to his wife and begins to enact a plan to protect her children, no matter the consequences to herself.

Authors Note: This is LotR/Hobbit fanfic and it’s an idea I was going to work on for a moxie fic challenge, but it got too big and ran away with me. There is a lot here I am playing with, but I am having fun and enjoying it so far. Both Keira Marcos & Jilly James helped me get over a hurdle at one point that I will be incredibly thankful for, even while this fic isn’t finished yet.

Chapter One

Eir entered the sitting room, already removing her heavy jewels from around her neck. Today’s court session solidified how far the king had fallen in the last season alone. 

“This can not be allowed to continue,” She muttered, crossing the room and entering her dressing room to drop her jewels onto their stands. She reached up to unpin her crown with deft fingers. “He’s already setting us against other kingdoms for no discernable reason.”

“Amad?” Thorin called from her sitting room.

“I’ll be just moment,” She replied, taking a deep breath, pulling on the calm she’d forcibly cultivated over the years. “Have the kitchen send up something to eat, we’ve missed luncheon.”

True or not, the dwarrow were often known for their passions, for the volatile emotions as disruptive to the world around them as their discordant note in the song of life. Eir had determined long ago that she would choose when and where to display her emotions. 

She’d become the scalpel to Thrain’s axe and hammer over time. When she’d chosen the craft of healing, she hadn’t known where her life would lead, but she didn’t regret her choice. Her craft did more than bind wounds and cure ailments. It had been a boon when dealing with recalcitrant council members and others of the court more than once over the years.

Eir brushed her hands down her braids, watching in the mirror as the glittering beads danced in the candlelight like sparks in her red hair. 

She unhooked the loops that held her ceremonial beard in place and, shaking it out gently, set it on the headstand, ready to be brushed out and rebraided later. She gathered a dollop of creme and smoothed it along her cheeks and chin to soothe any irritation. She combed the soft downy hair trailing half down her jawline, quickly twisting a few simple beads into it. 

“Amad, luncheon is here,” Thorin said from the doorway. “Adad will be here soon. Grandfather wanted to speak with him after court was released.”

“Hmm.” Eir turned and met her son’s gaze.

Thorin was twenty-four this year. He was a child and should be nowhere near these court sessions yet, but here they were. Yes, the boy had to learn these things, but Eir had no desire to see her son poisoned by the miasma surrounding Thror and that she could see beginning to seep into her husband.

“Let’s sit down and get something to eat,” She said, gesturing. “He’ll be along when he can, then.”

The meal had been set out on the small table set out near the doors to her garden balcony. It was one of her favorite spots. She smiled at Thorin. 

“I thought it would make your smile,” Thorin said, pulling out her chair.

“Thank you mizimith.” She sat and let him slide her chair in. 

Apparently, he was paying attention in his etiquette classes. Eir would have to think of a suitable reward. He was growing so quickly; it seemed not so long ago that she’d been untangling his fingers from her braids, and now here they were.

“Amad,” Thorin said, sitting down and picking up his fork. He didn’t look up from his plate, though.

“What is it Thorin?”

“What happened in court today that made you so upset?”

“Ah,” Eir sighed and reached for a drink of the hot mulled cider that had come with the roast duck. “That’s a difficult subject to talk about.”

“It’s Grandfather, isn’t it?” Thorin lifted his head and met her gaze, his jaw set stubbornly. So like his father.

“He is the king.”

“Is he right?” Thorin was looking back down at his plate again. He pushed the food around with his fork before looking back at Eir. “Are the guilds hiding profits from him? Are they hiding away what should be rightfully his out of their own greed?”

“What do you think?” Eir took a careful bite of the bird while she watched Thorin think it over.

“I don’t know,” Thorin replied, drawing out the words. He turned his gaze to the glazed panes set in the balcony doors. “They didn’t seem to want to give Grandfather this quarter’s tithe, even though it’s rightfully his.”

“Is it though?” Eir tilted her head and arched her brow at Thorin. “Tithing to the king has always been the tradition, true. Of course now its a written contract between the ruling family and the guilds, but it wasn’t always.” She raised her hand when Thorin went to speak. “The tithe was originally voluntary on the part of the guilds to the royal family in times of prosperity and even when it was first written into contracts, it was a trivial amount meant more to show loyalty and respect to the throne and crown than to fill the coffers. Now…”

“The contract isn’t like that now. It changes every quarter. Grandfather demands more and more. Tithing on top of the taxes.” Thorin frowned, his fork scraping across his plate, and flashed an apologetic look at Eir. “Sorry, Amad.”

“Be aware of yourself and what you do, even while your mind works on the issues at hand,” She said, softening the rebuke with a smile. “You will learn to keep your thoughts to yourself in all you do one day, mizimith. That is part of what these meals are about.”

“I know,” Thorin said, sighing and setting down his fork. “Sometimes it just feels like too much to learn, and I’ll never be able to learn it all. I just want to be able to do what’s right for Erebor and our family when it’s my turn.”

Eir nodded, taking another drink of her cider. She knew Thorin wouldn’t be so free with his speech if Thrain or anyone else was in the room with them, but she’d cultivated just this relationship with her son.

“You’re doing fine, and you’ll become more proficient with time,” She said, reaching over and taking his hand in hers. “Statecraft isn’t just a title given to what you are learning. This is a true craft that you’ll get mastery of one day.”

“So you keep telling me,” Thorin replied, sighing, but the corner of his mouth curled up a little.

“Now continue with your thoughts,” She said, sitting back. She waved him back to his dinner and the conversation that had been interrupted.

“Well,” Thorin began before pausing and reaching for a drink. After swallowing, he continued. “He keeps raising the tithes every quarter, but not just that. He’s been raising the taxes and the tariffs every time the opportunity comes up.” He tilted his head, closing his eyes. “Sometimes I think he’s making those opportunities.”

“Perhaps,” Eir acknowledged. “What does this mean?”

“I don’t know,” Thorin said, opening his eyes and staring at her. “He’s the king, isn’t this his right? Isn’t it all his anyway?”

“Is it?” Eir raised her brows at her son. “No, don’t answer that. Just think on this, but speak no more of it. How does what the king is doing benefit the people of Erebor? How does it benefit anyone? Does it benefit anyone?”

“Amad?”

“One final question to think on, mizimith,” Eir said, reaching over and smoothing a hand over his hair. “Is this how a true king who loves his people and kingdom should behave?”

“Eir!” Thrain shut the door behind him, throwing the lock. His eyes were wide with disbelief and no little fear. “You can’t speak like that, if someone were to hear.”

“I will speak my mind in my own rooms, Thrain,” Eir replied, ignoring how her heart thundered in her chest. She hadn’t heard her husband come in at all.

“You’re going to end at the end of a sword if you continue,” Thrain muttered, stalking forward and throwing himself into a chair. “Adad won’t allow that kind of treasonous talk, not even from family.”

“He no longer allows even those of us who call him family to call him by name in person, so I’m not surprised.” Eir served her husband his meal and poured his cider. “You need to try and talk with him Thrain. He’s reaching the threshold and you know it.”

“There isn’t anything I can do,” Thrain said, emptying his tankard in one go and reaching for the pitcher to refill it. “We’ve been warned by the elves, Tharkûn, and the others about the dragons, but he won’t…” He sighed and set his tankard down, and shook his head.

“It’s that damnable jewel, and you know it,” Eir said, even knowing that this part of her argument would be ignored. Just like Tharkûn had been before he’d been told to leave the mountain. “It began to turn his mind and poison him with greed almost as soon as he touched it. Who knows what else it has done to him, to those of us in the mountain forced into its presence.”

“There is nothing wrong with the Arkenstone; it is a blessing from Mahal,” Thrain said, slapping a hand onto the table. “I’ve told you this. It is proof of our right to rule over all the clans of dwarrow.”

“You are Durins of the line of Durin,” Eir scoffed, throwing her hands up in the air. “You’ve proven yourselves in battle and in your ability to govern before this, what need have you of a cursed jewel to prove your worth. We are dwarrow. We aren’t the dark lord with his ring needed to prove his dominion over all middle earth.”

“You dare!”

“Of course I do,” Eir said, standing, her chair toppling behind her. She tried to rein in her temper, but this had been building for some time. “The King and this jewel threatens Erebor and worse, it threatens my children. Do something about this Thrain or I will take it to the Valar myself.”

“Eir, you can’t be serious.”

“I’ve waited long enough for the situation to right itself on its own, for the council or the guilds to stand up and speak.” Eir paced, hands gesturing with her words. “Today shows that he’ll not stop on his own.”

“Very well,” Thrain said, sounding defeated. “I’ll speak with Adad again about the gold and goods based on the warnings about the dragon,” He continued, shaking his head when Eir turned to stare at him. “I won’t mention the Arkenstone, amrâlimê. No one who has seen it has felt any foulness from it and Tharkûn was there at the installation ceremony.”

“He isn’t the all seeing and all knowing one,” Eir said, frowning at her husband. “The Arkenstone is dangerous.”

“I won’t hear another word against it,” Thrain said, pounding a fist on the table, his eyes flaring with anger.

Eir felt her heart crack; she’d seen that look in Thror’s eyes in the beginning. Before, he’d completely been lost to whatever power the Arkenstone held. She wondered if it was too late for her husband already.

“Very well,” She said, pursing her lips unhappily. “I’m going to sit in the garden for a bit.”

“Amad,” Thorin said, following her out. He glanced over his shoulder, and they both watched Thrain eat through the glass windows. “Do you really think something is wrong with the Arkenstone?”

“Yes,” Eir replied. She looked at Thorin briefly before taking his hands in hers and staring into his eyes. He was so young, six years from being battle ready and nowhere near adulthood. “Heed me in this Thorin, be wary of that jewel. Guard your mind and your heart as well as you may from it.”

Thorin opened his mouth, and Eir braced herself for what he might say in defense of the thing that was fast corrupting the line of Durin, one Dwarrow at a time.

“Thorin,” Thrain called from the door. “Come along. You’ll come to see the king with me now, I’ve received a request for our presence and now is as good as time as any to discuss this with him.”

“Thrain?” Eir turned to her husband and saw the madness swirling just a little stronger in his eyes. Fear turned to stone in her stomach. She swallowed down her first response and nodded. “Of course, we’ll be right out.”

“It’ll just be Thorin and myself, amrâlimê,” Thrain replied, stepping forward and taking her hands. The madness in his eyes had subsided once again. “This conversation will be difficult enough, and I don’t want to draw his eye to you.”

“Yet Thorin will go with you?”

“Adad requested for his presence for this audience,” Thrain said, the skin around his eyes tightening. “You know I can’t deny that, especially not now.”

“This has gone on too long,” Eir said, sighing, her heart aching. She turned from her husband and gazed upon her son. “Remember my words and watch where you step in there. I don’t know why you’ve been called for with your Adad, but be wary, Thorin.”

“You worry too much, Eir,” Thrain said, pulling her back around. “Adad is not someone Thorin needs to fear so long as he’s as loyal as a true Durin should be.”

“As you say, but you remember that just because he’s in line, he’s still a child Thrain,” Eir said, seeing the snap of madness beginning to rise and knowing better than to argue against it before sending her son out at Thrain’s side. “Use my rooms to freshen up and then you should both hurry to Thror. He won’t be happy if he’s kept waiting long.”

Eir drew Thorin into her arms as he went past her, “Remember my words son and be wary.”

“Yes Amad.”

Eir didn’t know if Thorin would take her words to heart, but he’d listened earlier when they’d spoken, so she held onto hope as Thrain and Thorin left her rooms. 

***

“He’ll heal Your Highness,” Fundin said from the doorway.

“I’m aware of that, better than you.” Eir flicked him a glance before resuming her examination of Thrain, where he lay unconscious on the bed before her. “Tell me again what happened, and leave nothing out.”

“Thrain sent word that he wanted to speak with His Majesty, so I went to arrange it, but King Thror was already sending for an audience with Prince Thrain and Prince Thorin. King Thror was in a good mood, despite how the audience went. His only command was that Prince Thorin accompany his father.”

Eir frowned at that as she smoothed the bed covers over Thrain’s too-still body and glanced at her son. He sat on the other side of the bed staring at his Adad, but he’d said little since they’d returned; Thrain with stab wounds to his shoulder and side. He’d come in on a stretcher between two guards, and Thorin rushing in after with a bruised cheek that he refused to have her look at until Thrain was healed. 

“Go on,” She said as the silence continued, and she turned her attention to Thorin now that Thrain had been bandaged and poulticed. “And make sure to cover the part about why a healer wasn’t sent for. And stop with the ridiculous formalities, Fundin.”

“You are a great healer, Lady Eir,” Fundin said, nodding his head in Thrain’s direction. “No one else could have done better.”

“Fundin,” Eir said, standing straight and facing the man head-on. “I’m not sure who you think you’re fooling, but you’ve known me for too long now to play that game with me.”

“We can’t let it get out that King Thror did this to the prince, or at least the exact manner in which it was done,” Fundin sighed. “We don’t know what the repercussions would be, for the king or for Thrain.”

The light from the lanterns in the room caused shadows to drift about, hanging over Thrain and Thorin in such a way that she had the oddest desire to call for more light. She shook off her unease but turned up the light closest to Thorin anyway. 

“You know as well as I do that it’s already out of hand,” Eir said; she tilted Thorin’s chin up. “I’m sorry, mizimith. Are you harmed anywhere else?”

“No, Amad,” Thorin said; he met her gaze with eyes full of pain and shock. Eir was aware that the majority of that pain wasn’t physical, though, and her heart ached fiercely for her son. “I’m fine. Adad didn’t let Grandfather turn on me when the talking became fighting. It was almost like they didn’t even notice me. They knocked me back when they lunged for the stone at the same time. I was just in the way.”

“You’ve still been bruised.” She smoothed some balm over the discoloration on his face. She kept her rage under wraps at the thought of grown dwarrow knocking her son out of their way to get to a pretty bauble.

“I tried to get Adad out,” Thorin glanced toward the bed and then toward the door where Fundin was. “I thought Grandfather was going to kill him and nobody was coming to help. I think if Adad hadn’t fallen and looked like he was dead, Grandfather would have made sure of it.”

“If anyone had entered that room before the king left it wouldn’t have been to help your Adad, young prince. They would have seen your Adad as the one committing and attack on the throne and King Thror,” Fundin said. Eir could hear him stroking his hand down his beard by the sound of the beads. “Luckily, the rooms are soundproofed from most of the entryways. I did what I could by keeping them out from my office until King Thror came stomping through my office and I knew you were alone in there. Then I called for those I trust for help in getting you back to your Amad where your Adad could get the healing he needed.”

“You were right Amad,” Thorin said, obviously dismissing Fundin and looking back at her. “I heard it Amad.”

“What do you mean Thorin?”

“It spoke in my head,” Thorin said, and he leaned forward, reaching up and gripping her arm, his eyes going wide as he continued. “I swear I heard it whispering to me Amad, promising me all sorts of things. When Grandfather met us in the treasury rooms he took it out of the chest and it was even louder.”

Eir nodded; she’d expected they’d go to the treasury vaults. Thror didn’t leave that part of the mountain much anymore except for court or profit these days. That he’d insisted on both Thrain and Thorin for an audience had led her to believe it would also have something to do with that damnable stone.

“The King had the Arkenstone out of its chest? He hasn’t taken it out in the presence of anyone since he packed it away nearly a decade ago.” Fundin shut the door with a thud as he finally entered the room.

“Grandfather started talking about our legacy and a new beginning for the line of Durin. I couldn’t pay attention to him very much because the stone was so noisy.” He looked at Eir and frowned. “I don’t remember it being noisy before.”

“No, but I do not believe you were ever this close to it before.” Eir leaned against the side of the bed, feeling bile rise in her throat. What was that stone, and what was it doing to her family? “Fundin, where is Thror now?”

“He headed towards his rooms from what I could tell.”

“Do we know where the Arkenstone is?”

“He took it with him,” Thorin said, swallowing audibly. “Grandfather told Adad that he would never be worthy of it and then he took it with him when he left. He didn’t even look at me.”

“Thank Mahal for that much, at least,” Eir murmured, closing her eyes as she let out a heavy breath.

“Adad will be alright, won’t he?”

“The wound to his shoulder isn’t too bad, it’s glancing at the worst, and if he’d been wearing more than his leathers, it would have been nothing,” Eir said, torn between wanting to reassure Thorin and not wanting to lie to him. “The one in his side seems to have missed anything vital, so I don’t believe it will go bad. Thrain will have to take it easy once he wakes, but I believe he’ll recover from his wounds well enough.”

“Why isn’t he awake yet?”

“That’s what has me concerned,” Eir admitted, reaching over and smoothing a hand over Thorin’s hair. “You say you were shoved out of the way and that’s how you hit your cheek. I imagine that your Adad and Grandfather were doing a bit of that with each other, but dwarrow heads are tough and that shouldn’t have been enough to keep Thrain out this long. I’m not worried about it yet, but…”

“I wish I was older,” Thorin said, standing. He fidgeted for a moment, and his gaze cut to Fundin for a second.

“I’ll see what I can find out about what the King is doing about this incident,” Fundin said.

“If you have to,” Eir replied, sighing again. “Call it a sparring accident. Thrain can take the hit to his pride, especially if it comes at the hand of his Adad. You can say they were showing off for Thorin, recreating a battle for him or something. Just let us know the details so that Thorin will know what to say if he’s asked.” She glanced across the bed she was still leaning on. “And Thrain as well when he wakes.”

“Unless or until King Thror contradicts it, that sounds like the best plan,” Fundin said before bowing and exiting the room.

“Come here Mizimith,” Eir said as soon as the door to Thrain’s room was shut.

“Amad,” Thorin breathed out and flung himself into her arms, finally acting the child he still was. “I thought he was going to kill us and I don’t even know why.”

“My little gem.” Eir pressed her cheek to Thorin’s head, sorrow filling her. This was not the life she wanted for her son. He already had different duties and responsibilities at this age because of his place in the family, but he shouldn’t know the pain of betrayal like this. Not from his own blood, not from his king. “We’ll figure it out my little love, we will.”

“How?” 

Thorin didn’t wail the word, but Eir could feel his tears soaking through the top of her dress. She pulled back enough to look at his face and meet his reddened gaze.

“We’re dwarrow, and Mahal made us to endure, and he gave us the ability to see what is beyond the surface. I believe we’ll use both those skills here,” She said softly, smoothing the loose wisps of hair back off his face. “I’ll take care of this, Thorin. This should not have gone on for so long, but it had an insidious creep, and now…”

“I can still hear it Amad,” Thorin whispered, his voice so quiet Eir almost missed it.

“Thorin?”

“The stone calls for me to take it from Grandfather,” Thorin admitted, not meeting her gaze. “It says that it’s my birthright. That it’s been waiting for me all this time. It’s saying that I must take the stone from him and then the ring of kingship to show everyone that I am the true Durin that they should follow and not Grandfather.”

“Well,” Eir huffed, rage blinding her for a brief second before she battled it back. “That’s just fine isn’t it? That stone wants to destroy the whole of the family before you’ve even seen your first skirmish.”

“I don’t want to kill Grandfather, even if he did try and kill Adad,” Thorin said. “I would have fought him in the room earlier if I’d had to, but…” His brow furrowed. “I’m so confused Amad and the whispering doesn’t help.”

“No, I can’t imagine it does.” She nodded. “Let’s get you to bed, rest is what you need. I’m going to give you some medicine for the headache you think you’re hiding from me and you’re going to sleep.”

“I wanted to stay with Adad in case he wakes up,” Thorin argued. 

“I’ll send someone for you if he wakes while you’re gone,” Eir replied, already leading him to the door to the sitting rooms. 

She moved to a small cabinet just inside her dressing and pulled out a small bottle; measuring out a dose, she raised her brow until Thorin dutifully took a dose.  

“I think I will walk with you to your rooms tonight,” Eir said, looping her arm through her son’s. She motioned one of the guards she trusted to watch the rooms while she was gone and began walking with Thorin.

“I don’t need to be tucked in,” Thorin sounded both appalled and thankful for her presence.

“Perhaps I need to tuck you in,” Eir replied, squeezing his arm. If the situation wasn’t so dire at the moment, she would be more amused about the way Thorin vacillated between wanting to be treated as a grown dwarrow and wanting to be her little gem. “Today has been a day where you’ll allow your Amad that indulgence won’t you?”

Thorin was silent the rest of the way to his room.

Eir kissed his cheek after pulling him into her arms. She held him tightly against her and wished again that she’d been able to protect him better against what had occurred.

“Rest Thorin, things will be better soon.” She pressed one last kiss to his forehead before leaving his rooms and heading back to Thrain. Her mind already turning over her options. 

She thought of Frerin and Dís, both of whom she’d stopped to check on earlier before Thrain had returned. The troubles of Thror and the stone hadn’t yet touched them, but she doubted it would be much longer before they were put in peril by the shadows descending over the mountain.

“Something has shifted,” Eir murmured, pausing outside the nursery before entering and moving to stand next to Dís’ bed. She smiled down at her sleeping daughter and brushed a hand over the unruly hair that splayed out over her little pillow.

“Your Highness?” Madame Kara lifted a light and squinted into the room. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine Madame,” Eir told the head Dam of the Royal Nursery. “I was just stopping in after seeing Thorin to his rooms. It wasn’t so long ago that he was in here with Frerin and Dís. Or so it seems.” She looked over to where Frerin slept in his bed, golden hair shining in the dim lights.

“They do grow faster than we’d like at times,” Madame agreed with a soft chuckle. “I would have kept bedtime if I’d known you’d be by.”

“No, I didn’t know,” Eir replied, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t want to disrupt their routine too much. We know how much trouble Thorin has with his own routines being what they are. Let Frerin and Dís have this time of peace while they can.”

“Peace, your Highness?”

“They are royal children and Durins at that,” Eir said smiling at the elder dwarrow. “Peace will be in short supply I’m sure. They are known to cause a uproar, even if its just by marrying an unsuitable princess from a lost Firebeard dynasty.”