So Comes Snow After Fire

18.i White-bearded Frost Hath Threatened His Worst

When the voting took place later that day, the proponents of the current order of succession had prevailed five to two.

Daín himself had cast the Longbeards' vote in Fili's favor, thereby demonstrating his clan's unified support of their prince's claim. The Firebeards' and the Blacklocks' votes, too, had already been assured. But Kíli's recent gesture of duty and good sense in choosing a dwarven bride had tipped not only the Stonefoots' decision. Jari's own Stiffbeard party had pressured him to vote, against his personal inclination, to keep Thrór's line on the throne.

"You would have me put the future of our entire people at risk just to avoid discomfiting a king?" he had demanded of the dissenting Stiffbeard lords. But Jari had conceded once it had become clear that the law would stand, with or without his clan's vote.

Despite a slight residual air of disappointment and frustration (mainly on envoy Jari's part), when the Council broke for the night, the prevailing feeling was one of relief. The controversy surely had been a distasteful way to mark the beginning of Thorin's rule and the reclamation of the last true Longbeard realm. With the matter settled, the Council could once more focus on strengthening ties among the kingdoms and uniting them behind the high king, rather than tearing them apart. And the matter truly was settled: laws were seldom changed, and it would be entirely outrageous and unprecedented to bring the same law up for review twice in one dwarf's lifetime. Whether one approved of the outcome or not, Fíli's inheritance was fully confirmed now.

As councilmen had trailed out of the great meeting chamber after the decision was passed, Thorin drew Fíli aside for a moment. Placing his hands on Fíli's shoulders, he gazed intently at his kinsman.

"I have always wanted to give the kingdom to you," Thorin said. "This honor is truly yours, by birth and by desert."

"And I have always tried to be worthy," returned the young dwarf in a manner that suggested he was considering his shortcomings.

"You are worthy," Thorin assured him. "I am sorry my own weakness nearly cost you your right."

"Uncle—" Fíli paused, clearly on the verge of some thought he could not quite put into words. "I do not respect you any less for stumbling."

Thorin nodded, and then looked beyond Fíli to his second nephew, who was hovering at his brother's shoulder like an indecisive shadow.

"Kíli, I regret that I cannot also offer you what you deserve. I know you loved her."

Kíli clenched his jaw, too overcome by emotion to respond, but he returned Thorin's direct gaze, thereby giving proof enough that he understood his uncle's meaning.

Watching his nephews go, Thorin reflected that they were blessed to share the bond they did. Their loyalty and trust had carried them through the recent quest, and Thorin saw they would need to rely on each other no less now that the kingdom was won.

Thorin, too, had once had such a brother. How would things have turned out differently, he wondered suddenly, had Frerin lived to see the return to Erebor? Surely Frerin would have helped his elder brother shoulder the responsibilities of rule, and the weight would not have fallen so hard on the young sons of their sister, Dís. Fíli and Kíli would then have been free to follow happiness no less than duty.

But it was no use dreaming of what might have been. Thorin had learned all too well by now: one was never allowed to choose his fate. All he could do was meet the challenge he had been set as best he could.