I promise I am still working on this on and off - I'm super short on money at the moment so I'm working loads and doing commissions in my spare time to get more cash but I am still here and I still want to finish ISOAQ one of these days!

I have also taken some of yours advice and have started this story again over on AO3. So if you see it pop up - it's me! I'll probably post a few chapters a week until we're caught up instead of dumping the whole lot.

Enjoy!

Chapter 40

"Bruin!" Truin exclaims, shock spreading across her face as she registers his words.

"She's going to get herself killed!" Bruin snaps, his eyes flicking from me to Truin, then back again. "Mahal Ruin! Was my almost dying not enough for you?"

"It's nothing to do with you," I manage to say without raising my voice. "It is my decision."

Bruin scoffs, shaking his head in frustration, "You are being foolish! More than foolish!" He hisses.

I don't know how I feel about my brother's reaction to my unexpected news. On the one hand, I would have expected Bruin of all people to be excited for me - being my twin and the member of my family I have always been closest to.

But on the other hand, I remember his reaction when he found out I had been amongst those in the mines when the falling slab intended for Thorin crushed another unsuspecting dwarf. I remember his worry and frustration even then at my closeness to the Royal Family.

I suppose I should have anticipated this from him, and yet it still stings. It hurts that even Truin - who has spent the better part of the last year trying to get into his Majesty's good graces, vying for the position of Queen - was happier for me than my twin.

"Bruin!" Truin chides again, her surprise turning to consternation at his response. "What are you talking about?! Why are you speaking this way?!"

"The line of Durin is dangerous!" Bruin turns his attention to her, his voice starting to pitch just past the point where I would consider our conversation private. "After all that has happened, you think Ruin will be safe if she marries-"

"Enough!" A new voice chimes in, cutting Bruin off. I look up to see Oin appear from around the partition. "I've no idea what you're bickering about now, but I've other patients beside you."

"Apologies, Master Oin," I say, pushing to my feet with a final look at Bruin. He is still seething, though his eyes widen as he watches me stand and move away. "I believe we are done here for the moment."

"Ruin-" Bruin begins behind me, but I simply shake my head to stall whatever is about to tumble from his mouth.

"Like I said, brother, the decision is mine and it is made," I say, then move away before the argument can continue, heading for the large double doors that lead out of the healing rooms.

I don't stop to see if Truin follows me, don't glance up as my guards fall into step behind me, don't see the looks on their faces as I stride aimlessly into the bowels of the mountain.

I take several turns, go up and down staircases and traverse across a few of the suspended walkways before I come to a stop in front of an ornate pair of wide carved doors, deep within the mountain.

Each door is adorned by a beautifully crafted inlay of jewels and crystals, with rivulets of gold running around the outside of the entryway and filling the expertly chiseled runes that bracket each door.

A sigh escapes me.

I hadn't meant to end up here, of all places.

I move towards the doors, letting my fingers brush against the smooth shaped stone and step over the threshold. The inside is lit with flaming torches at intervals along the walls, enough to see by but not illuminate the cavernous chamber completely.

It is quiet, somber. I can see a few others milling within the chamber, whether they are visiting or caretakers I cannot tell. I step into the room, followed by Marrik and Tybbar who clank loudly in the otherwise quiet space.

There are long plinths set out in the central space, coffins that depict the mighty dwarves that now lie crumbling within their stone embrace - these spaces are reserved for those of great stature and importance.

Around the edges of the room are rows and rows of dutifully cared for plaques that depict the names of those who have returned to the stone within. The final resting places of dwarves who have passed from this life.

I let my feet take me down the path to find the only dwarf I know that resides here and the only reason I have come to know this place in the last few weeks. It takes a few minutes to traverse the space, but soon I am standing in front of a freshly carved slab of stone with a familiar name engraved in it.

"Hello Toldin," I say to the grave marker.

I glance over my shoulder to see that my guards have posted themselves a respectful distance away, Marrik on my right and Tybbar moving around to stand some way to my left.

They keep their gaze straight ahead, though perhaps I see Tybbar's eye flick towards the stone, a flash of grief - or guilt - on his face before it is gone. I turn back around.

I have been here a few times before, though I am ashamed to say it took me longer than it should have to visit my first guard after his passing. Never have I encountered another mourner at his Marker - something which I am not sure I am grateful for or not.

Could I stand beside Toldin's family at his grave, all of us knowing that I am the one who put him there? Or would I like the chance to let them know how heartbreakingly sorry I am that their son is gone. How much I will miss him. How good he was to me.

Perhaps one day I will find out.

I'm not sure how long I stand beside Toldin's Marker, lost in thought as I watch the light from the nearby torch as it flickers hypnotically across the gold inlaid into his name.

It must be some time, as when I shake myself back into wakefulness, my feet are beginning to ache and I hear the occasional clank as my guards shift restlessly.

I shake my head, give Toldin a soft farewell and turn, making my way slowly back to the large doors and back into the world of the living.

I don't know what hour it is, but from the empty feeling in my stomach, I imagine I have missed lunch by a few hours at least. We divert to the market, not wanting to tackle the bustle of the dining halls, and quickly locate a small food stall laden with meat and pastry goods.

I allow my guards to make their purchases while I browse the food available, though now that I am here I feel less and less hungry by the minute. Still, I purchase some skewers of spicy cooked meat and tuck the wrapped bundle precariously into the strap on my belt, then head back to my quarters to ruminate.

I lie on my bed, fingers drumming against my stomach in a dull, repetitive rhythm as I allow my mind to wander.

Inevitably my thoughts find themselves circling back to Bruin and his reaction to my news.

Despite his previous warnings regarding the dangers surrounding the line of Durin, I did not think that his response would have been so visceral knowing that I would not have come to my decision lightly.

I know I have not been overly forthcoming with my brother when it comes to the depth of my relationship with the King - Mahal, it surprised even me, to some extent - but he knew more than Truin.

He knew enough to warn me to begin with.

And Bruin has always been better at social cues than I, better at reading people. Am I to believe he saw nothing between Thorin and I when Truin thinks it should have been so obvious?

I shake my head in annoyance and sit up, pulling the skewers of meat from their place under my belt before they can jab me. I peel away the waxed paper that covers them and tear at the meat with a grumble.

My brother is still recovering from a near-fatal wound, I remind myself as I chew. Which while related to the Royal Family, was not necessarily caused by them as Bruin put himself in front of the knife that was meant for the King.

So why does Bruin think it is fine to put himself in danger to save the King, but not for me to be in possible danger for marrying him?

I finish the first skewer and flick the stick into the empty fireplace before starting on the second.

I know the answer of course.

My brother cares less for his own life than he does for mine. Though perhaps cares less is not quite right either, because Bruin would not die for an unworthy cause, but he would certainly choose me over himself - as I would for him.

The second and third sticks join and first and I flop back down onto my back, no less annoyed for having eaten my small meal.

I need to speak to Bruin again, but I cannot bring myself to do so again today. I have had quite enough of my family for now. Instead I push to my feet and browse my meager book collection for something to read.

It does not take me long to select a thin tomb from an unknown human author and tuck it under my arm. I am halfway to the door, intending to spend some much needed personal time reading on the balcony when I pause.

I don't really want to run the risk of seeing Thorin at the moment. Which I realise is not the way I should be feeling having just decided to marry him - however I have had too much of an emotional day already. My mind is still reeling from the implications of becoming the wife of the King of Erebor and knowing that my brother thinks I am making a mistake is not helping.

With that in mind, I shuck off my boots and turn back towards my bed, pausing only briefly to get my fire going so that I might have the cosy crackle of the flames as I read. It takes all of five minutes before I am tucked up under my thick blankets and beginning the first page of my book, all thoughts and worries pushed firmly to the back of my mind.

I only realise I have fallen asleep when I hear the sound of gentle but persistent knocking at my door.

With a blink I sit up, rubbing my eyes and carefully removing the book from my lap and setting it aside. I yawn as I climb out of the bed, extracting myself from the blankets and heading towards the sound of knocking.

My fire has gone out, so the lighting is dim, but I make it to the other side of the room easily. I pause for a second to pick up the axe that rests against the wall - an unfortunate necessity, given my recent kidnapping - and pull open the door.

Marrik is standing on the other side and looks mildly relieved when I finally appear in the doorway.

"Durin's beard," He grumbles, taking a step back. "We were starting to worry!"

I glance to his left where I see Dunnold standing, looking just as relieved as his companion.

"About what?" I ask, scrubbing one hand through my hair while the other gently places the axe back in its spot.

"You've been holed up in here all night!" Marrik tells me, and I blink some more sleep from my eyes.

I must have slept through the night, which is somewhat concerning as I only started reading in the late afternoon. I can see how it might have caused my guards some alarm - still I had quite an emotionally charged day yesterday and I can't be blamed for needing time to myself.

"Well, it is my room, where else am I to spend the night?" I ask, pitching my voice slightly louder than necessary to cover the horrendous growl from my stomach.

Marrik looks like he is going to argue but instead just shakes his head and lets out a long breath, "As long as yer alright My Lady,"

"Thank you both for your concern," I say, despite the fact that they had little reason to worry. "Was there anything else?"

"Aye, the King has requested that you join him this evening for dinner," Marrik informs me, and I nod.

"Just myself or…?" I ask, even though I'm reasonably sure I know the answer. I suppose he still does not know that I have told my family, although I wouldn't have put it past my mother to visit the King directly to speak to him about it.

"Aye, just you," Marrik confirms.

I nod again, "Very well, I'll be out shortly, I have some things to get done beforehand."

Marrik nods again and I close the door, changing out of my old clothes and into a new, clean dress before rejoining my guards. We go first to the baths, despite the consistent rumbling in my stomach.

I spend more time than necessary in the tub, letting the hot water soothe me until the gnawing in my stomach is too much to ignore. I dry off and dress and then make a b-line to the food halls.

It's a few hours before lunch, so the dining halls are reasonably quiet - though it is never empty. There are always hungry dwarves around, those that have finished a late shift in the mines or like myself just woke up late.

I grab myself a hefty plate and begin to work my way through it with enthusiasm. Marrik and Dunnold take up seats on either side of me and despite the fact that I'm sure they have already eaten, they still manage to devour a large plate of food each.

When our plates are cleared I'm feeling better than I have in some weeks. Well rested, recently bathed and full of good food. If I didn't have an obstinate brother to visit I might consider going back to bed for another nap.

"I need to see Bruin." I tell my guards, more so that they know the destination than my motives.

Marrik nods and we travel back through the mountain towards the healing rooms, which are the emptiest they have been in some time - which I suppose is a good thing if there is to be a shouting match.

I leave my guards at the door, nodding to Master Oin as I pass his desk on my way to Bruins bed. He nods but gives me a pointed look as if to remind me of where I am and that my family squabbles will not be tolerated.

My brother is sitting up against his pillows whittling a small piece of wood as I round the partition that separates him from the rest of the room.

Bruin glances up as I enter, his hands stilling slightly before resuming his small craft.

"I'm not going to apologise," He says, matter-of-factly as I lean against the wall. "I think you're making a mistake."

"So I gathered," I muse, my eyes on the block of wood. I can't quite figure out what it is he's trying to carve. Perhaps an animal? Or an orc? I suppose it's irrelevant. "I'm not here to argue with you, it is my choice to make, Bruin."

He doesn't speak, doesn't look at me. Instead he keeps his eyes on the wooden block in his hands, but I see the clenching of his jaw. I wait.

It takes a minute or two before the silence is too much for him.

Bruin lets out a low grumble and tosses the half-finished carving onto his bed in frustration. He looks at me, shakes his head and looks away, letting himself flop back against the pillows again. "I'm worried about you."

"What's new?" I say and he shoots me a frown.

"I'm being serious Ruin," He tells me, "Since we came to Erebor your association with the line of Durin has bought you nothing but trouble. Do you think that will change once you marry the King?"

"No, I don't," I admit, pushing off from the wall to sit in the chair beside my twins bed. "Things have been quiet since Dwalin managed to round up some of the dissidents but I'm not such a fool to think that there aren't more."

"Then why put yourself so willingly in danger?" Bruin demands.

"We have willingly done many things over the years that have been dangerous," I recall, kicking my legs up onto the side of his bed. "This is no different."

"Of course it is different!" He snaps. Bruin turns his body to face me, dislodging one of his cushions from the mountainous collection where it tumbles to the floor. I pick it up and throw it to him with more force than necessary for a pillow.

"In what way?" I demand, making sure to keep my voice at a respectable level so as not to incur Oin's wrath.

"In every way!" Bruin tells me, hands fisting in the material of the pillow with enough strength that I'm worried we might be showered in feathers at any moment.

I raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate. He doesn't, and instead he takes a deep breath, his hand finding the still healing wound on his chest.

"If something were to happen to you-" He starts, then cuts himself off, shaking his head.

"I am not so proud to admit that the possibility isn't a little frightening, " I tell him, rubbing the side of my neck. "But am I to let that stop me from living my life?"

"You need not pick a life so dangerous though, surely?" He asks.

"I suppose not," I admit, then shrug. "But I think this is the life that will make me the most happy."

He watches me, silver eyes staring into silver eyes before he shakes his head. The seconds tick by, but there isn't really much else for me to say.

"I should have known better than to argue with you," He grumbles, finally releasing his death grip on the pillow. He leans forward and tucks it back behind him, dropping back against the soft bulk of cushions with a grunt.

I snort and we lapse into silence for a moment before Bruin looks back at me.

"You really think you'll be happy? With him?" He asks.

It's a question I've asked myself multiple times over the last few days - months, even - and I'm still not sure of the answer.

"I can't know that for sure, but yes, I think so," I say honestly. "And I think that Thorin will do everything he can to make me happy."

Bruin nods.

"He's your One, isn't he?" My brother asks.

I snort again. The elusive concept of the One.

"I don't know," I say with a shrug. "But he… he feels like the sun to me."

Bruin pulls a face of disgust and I roll my eyes at him as he picks up the small block of wood. He doesn't begin working on it again, just turns it over in his hands.

"It should have been obvious, really," He says, chuckling to himself, though it isn't quite a jovial chuckle yet. More forced. "How many people could clock the King Under The Mountain in the face with a book and get away with it."

"I doubt he had any feelings for me then other than extreme annoyance," I admit, shaking my head. My first encounter with Thorin on the balcony seems so long ago now but in truth it has been a little less than a year.

"Aye, might be," Bruin agrees, flashing me a grin that is more himself. "Mahal's beard Ruin, just promise you'll be careful?"

"Of course brother," I assure him with a nod. "I've had quite enough of people I care for getting hurt, myself included."

I touch the scar that splits my left cheek and see Bruin's mouth press into a thin line. "I will be careful."

He nods then then throws his hands up, frustration clear on his face.

"I hate this," He says, eyebrows drawing down into a frown. "And I hate this Mahal forsaken bed!"

I do feel sorry for him despite his previous attitude toward me. It has been a few weeks since he awoke now and no one has said anything about him leaving the healing quarter - despite being almost back to his old self.

"Would you like me to speak to Master Oin about your release?" I ask benevolently.

It's a bit of an empty gesture as Master Oin is unlikely to let him leave sooner than he is ready, just because I ask nicely.

"Please, Ruin," He asks, flopping back against his cushions dramatically. "I can't stand another day here."

I snort but stand and head out into the main healing room. Master Oin is seated behind his large desk, pouring over an old book that looks almost as aged as he is.

Despite his hearing trouble he looks up as I approach and I don't miss the sigh that escapes his lips, though he offers me a rare smile as I stop beside him.

"All okay, lassie?" He asks, nodding his head in the direction of Bruin's bed.

"Only time will tell, though I hope so. And I apologise for before," I say, bowing my head slightly, "You were correct that this is not the place for our issues."

"Aye well as long as there's no more of it," He nods, then folds his hands in front of himself. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you had any idea when my brother might leave the healing rooms," I say and watch Oin huff. "No doubt you're tired of him by now."

"Aye, tired of the lot of yeh!" He grumbles, then shakes his head. "He'll have another few days at least and on that I'll not budge no matter how much he pesters me!"

"Well, that's certainly better than I was expecting!" I say, then drop my voice slightly, not that I expect Bruin to be able to hear our conversation but still. "He looks well to me, certainly more himself than before - is he, though?"

Oin clears his throat and nods.

"Aye, better than expected, actually," He admits, adjusting his hearing trumpet. "He's got a strong constitution, his body hasn't atrophied as much as I would have expected. Of course having the healing skills of an Elf used on him didn't hurt."

"You don't seem quite as… aggressive towards the elves as others." I muse.

Oin raised an eyebrow and shrugs one shoulder.

"Perhaps," He says, begrudgingly. "As a healer I appreciate their skill - and while I can't say I like them collectively, the few I've had dealings with have saved the lives of some of the people most dear to me."

"A very good point," I say, glancing back at the partition that hides my bed bound brother. "You'd think Thorin might have changed his tune on them, since they healed him and his kin."

Oin snorts, and if he notices my informal use of the King's name he doesn't mention it.

"Aye, but old hurts are hard to heal," He advises with a shrug. "He dislikes them on principle but he knows he - and more importantly to him, that Fili and Kili would not be here without the skills of the elves."

I nod again and turn that over in my head. He did allow my family to seek out the elves help for Bruin at least. I wonder if Bruin might warm up to them now that he too has experienced their famed healing.

"Well, I had best let Bruin know the good news," I say, smiling. I take one step before pausing and turning back to him. "And thank you, for all you have done, for myself and my family."

He regards me for a moment before inclining his head.

"Aye, well, you've done a lot for me and mine too," He says, turning back to his book. "Whether you know it or not."

I frown at his cryptic words but continue on back to Bruin.

To the best of my knowledge I've never done anything but annoy Master Oin. Still, it's good to know that perhaps he doesn't think quite as badly of me as I thought.

"Give me some good news today, I bed you," Bruin demands as I make my way back to his bedside.

I manage not to roll my eyes - apparently despite his unwilling acceptance, my marriage is still not considered good news by him.

"Several months more, I'm afraid," I say, giving him my best look of pity. Bruin's face of disbelief is one of beauty and I can't keep my facade for more than a few moments.

"You're a wretch," He snaps, throwing his unfinished carving at my head. I duck and it bounces harmlessly off the wall with a dull thud. "Tell me truthfully!"

"I'm not sure I should after that display," I chuckle, though the only thing he has left to throw now if the carving knife so I hurry on. "A few days still, then freedom."

"About damn time!" Bruin grunts, shuffling back against his pillows. He closes his eyes and huffs out a long suffering sigh. "I hope you're ready for a thorough sparring session once I'm released?"

"Of course brother," I say, and I'm hardly shocked that training is the first thing on his mind.

Bruin is silent for a second before cracking one eye open to look at me, "I trust your husband-to-be won't lock me up when I beat the snot out of you?"

"Hah!" I snort. "You've been bedridden for almost two months brother, I'd be more worried about what I'll do to you - never mind the King Under The Mountain."

I couldn't have the Twins mad at each other for too long after all I've put Bruin through already but he still isn't happy! Hope you liked it! Please read/review/favourite/follow as you see fit! Much love.