The Shadow Walker

79. Whisperings

Again, we rode well into the night, and with good reason. A few hours after dark, we reached the edge of the Brown Lands, and entered a more livable climate. There was grass for the horses, a river Dwalin referred to as the Celduin, and a handful of trees.

Though I was tired, there was something between Dwalin and me that set me at unease. Not that I thought he would hurt me, or anything along those lines. Just that, perhaps, there was something going on that I didn't know about.

After eating, Dwalin didn't bed down right away, so I didn't either. Instead, I went to where the horses and pony were picketed, and rubbed them down with my hands, just checking them for any bumps or bruises. I didn't find anything, nor did I expect to. But after I'd finished checking the last of the three, I knew how to start the conversation.

I returned to my bedroll and stretched out on it. "So. Dwalin. What's this Thorin Stonehelm like?"

"He's a bloody fool."

"Hmm. Well I appreciate your judgment, but honestly, that doesn't help me much." When Dwalin didn't respond, I caught his gaze across the camp fire. "You said I didn't know the situation at Erebor. You were right. But now I need to know. And I'm asking."

Dwalin eyed me for a long moment, then he gave a single nod. "Fair enough. Sixty years ago, Thorin Oakenshield and his two nephews were killed by Azog the Defiler. Not two days after the battle, Dàin Ironfoot came around, claiming to be the rightful heir, being Thorin's cousin. We were able to hold him off, because he is a relatively distant cousin of Thorin's, but Dìs..." He looked away and fiddled with his pipe.

I frowned. "Granny Dìs what?"

Dwalin sighed at met my gaze again. "She was pregnant at the time."

I blinked. Twice. "Why did I never hear about this?"

Dwalin sighed and put away his pipe. "We decided not to tell you."

"Dwalin," I said in my most serious warning tone. "Pabba Làin died years before the battle."

"I know." He sighed again, still not looking at me. "Look, lassie, it's not something any of us are proud of. But nothing came of it, it's in the past, and there's no good reason to dig it up again...except to tell you what's going on."

I gritted my teeth, battling with the shock and frustration. It was like they had avoided telling me anything important. That grated on my nerves. But finally, I said, "Alright. She was pregnant."

Dwalin gave a grateful nod. "In hopes that we'd sire an heir closer to Thorin's line, we held Dàin off and formed the Council of Erebor, consisting of Thorin's original company and a few elders dedicated to Erebor and Durin's line.

"But being as old as she was, Dìs's pregnancy was unsucessful, and when it became clear she was no longer capable of childbearing, it was only a matter of time before Dàin realized he had every right to take the throne."

I gritted my teeth. "Until my mother came knocking at your door."

"Precisely," he said softly. "She told us the whole story from start to finish, concluding by telling us that she was with child. Kili's child. A legitimate—albeit half-Elven—heir to the throne of Erebor."

I sighed sharply. "You still haven't told me...what's so wrong with the Iron Hill Dwarves? Namely Dàin and his son?"

Dwalin nodded. "It's a fair question, lass. And the truth is, besides being grabby and impossible to reason with, they're too eager to jump into war. They love to divide and conquer...but after the Battle of Five Armies, and seeing our king and princes killed...us Erebor folk are ready for a quiet life of mining and living peacefully."