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Mending the Broken Pieces	By : LadyLaran Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Het - Male/Female Views: 13613 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own "the Hobbit" nor do I make money from this story. Tolkien and Jackson are the ones who own the characters and world.

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Author’s Note – Thank you so much for the words of support and the amazing reviews you guys left for me. It’s hard for those who don’t write to understand just how much the encouragement helps. So again, thank you. Nano is going well; I’m almost at 35k and feeling great about it! Mom, who betas for me, is anxious to read what I’ve gotten done so far.

Disclaimer – I do not own “the Hobbit” nor do I make any money from this story.

Chapter Twenty-six – Betrothal

When Thorin shared the news that the betrothal would occur as soon as Oin gave his permission and everything was readied for the ceremony, there was a loud outburst of joy from the company. Fili and Kili leaped onto him, hugging him tightly as they whispered their happiness in the knowledge their uncle would no longer have to walk this life alone. Thorin didn’t scold them for the over-eager hug and held them close, murmuring his gratitude for their concerns and happiness for him.

Dori worked hard to finish sewing the clothes Hawthorn needed as well as the one important piece required in the betrothal ceremony. He wanted to ensure their hobbit would be kept warm and made sure to do his best. His brothers helped where they could, mostly by ensuring he had a full cup of tea within reach at all times and keeping the others out of his way.

The company passed the time in helping Beorn ready his home for winter, repairing anything that was showing signs of needing it, and the shape shifter was grateful for it. While he tended his home and equipment well, he wasn’t a craftsman and the dwarrow he was hosting were able to either repair or remake the items that had taken damage over the years. He knew they were doing it to repay his generosity as well as keeping themselves busy so the waiting for the betrothal ceremony wouldn’t seem as long.

Hawthorn was allowed on her feet a few days after the fever passed, and Dori had presented her with breast bindings, an undershirt of pale blue that laced up, and a tunic of dark blue. The layers would help her stay warm during the rest of their journey, and he was pleased by how well they fit the hobbit. He’d had to use her heavy coat for an estimate of her size.

The looks of joy on the faces of the company, especially Thorin, made her heart lighten when she carefully entered the main room. Granted, she had to lean against Oin to keep herself steady on her feet but it was progress that all of them could take pleasure in seeing. She was so pleased to see them, the hobbit didn’t notice the preparations that had been made for the betrothal ritual or the meal that had been prepared to celebrate both it and her being well enough to be able to leave her bed.

Oin guided her to a seat, helping her sit down. Her range of motion was still very stiff due to the healing injury, and she would need assistance until the wound was fully healed. The entire company had been informed of this, warning them not to allow her to move too quickly or suddenly until the missing wizard returned to give permission for more activity.

Once she was seated, Balin looked at the hobbit with a soft smile.

“We have everything set up to perform the betrothal ritual between you and Thorin this evening. Do you feel up to it tonight, Hawthorn?”

“I do,” she answered, giving a beautiful smile that made her eyes light up.

It was the first time the company had been able to see a real smile, and all of them were taken aback by the beauty of it. Thorin had been treated to it before, and he was once again struck by the desire to ensure that smile was seen more frequently. He preferred that beautiful expression over the tiny smiles they had seen so often since meeting her.

The group of dwarrow moved to stand in a circle, watching as Thorin carefully drew her to her feet and led her to stand in the center of the circle with him. He kept her hands in his for several moments, voice soft as he addressed her.

“Oin will be performing the ritual; he isn’t just our healer but also a Reader, meaning he is blessed by Mahal and can perform rituals when a priest is absent,” he said quietly. “Balin said he explained everything?”

“He did,” she answered softly. “He taught me what I needed to know for this ritual and answered some questions I had as well.”

Thorin pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles before releasing her hand, and they both turned to face Oin.

“Why have you come before me,” the healer asked, watching the couple as he began the ritual.

“Master Reader, we come before you so that we may be brought together. Our wish is to become One as Mahal and Yavanna did before the creation of our people,” Thorin answered.

“This daughter of Yavanna is the One crafted for you?”

“She is my One, the other half of my heart and soul,” the dwarf lord replied, voice showing confidence in his responses.

“Have you courted in the ways Mahal laid down for us,” Oin asked.

“We have, and my One has ended the courtship by claiming me as hers and herself as mine through both word and deed,” Thorin told him.

“Daughter of Yavanna, is it your wish to bind yourself to this son of Mahal through betrothal?”

“I wish it,” she replied. “He is my cariad – the one created to complete me in every way.”

Oin was handed a blade from Kili, one forged by Thorin while the company had waited for Hawthorn to become strong enough to leave her sickbed. The healer prayed in khuzdul over the dagger, asking for Mahal’s blessings as the bond would begin to form this evening between the two He had crafted. The metal heated between his hands and once the prayer was done, he handed the dagger to his daughter.

Hawthorn took the blade, hiding her surprise at the heat that radiated from the metal. It wasn’t unbearable but held a feeling that was nearly staggering at the depth of power that lingered in the etched blade. She swallowed, fingers tightening on the hilt as she looked up into the dark blue eyes of her cariad and held her free hand out.

“From this moment forward, my heart and soul are yours to protect and treasure as we step forward side by side to wait for the time when we are forged as One as our creators have ordained,” she began, repeating the words Balin had taught her. “Will you be mine and allow me to be the strength that sustains you as you protect and guide our people?”

Thorin rested his left hand in her hand, palm up as he answered her.

“I will allow myself to lay down the worries and troubles at our door so that I can accept the strength you offer me. I am yours, crafted for you by Mahal,” he answered, watching as she dragged the tip of the dagger over his palm, the sharpness slicing through the calloused skin and drawing blood.

The dwarf lord took the blade with his right hand, holding his injured one out while he spoke.

“From this moment on, I accept your heart and soul and offer my own for you to protect and treasure as we step forward side by side to wait for the time when we are forged as One as our creators have ordained,” he told her. “Will you be mine and allow me to be the strength that sustains you as you nurture and sustain our people?”

Hawthorn rested her left hand on his wrist, palm up, and met his eyes as she answered him with a strong voice.

“I will allow myself to lay down the worries and troubles at our door so that I can accept the strength you offer me. I am yours, grown for you by Yavanna,” she replied, watching as he drew the tip of the dagger over her palm and drew blood.

Kili stepped forward, taking the weapon from his uncle and backing several steps away while Fili and Gloin approached the couple. When Hawthorn and Thorin pressed their left hands together, wounded palms pressed tightly together so as to share blood between the couple, both Fili and Gloin began winding a blue ribbon embroidered with silver runes around the two hands.

“Blood to blood, heart to heart, soul to soul, we walk this path Mahal and Yavanna have set us upon,” the couple spoke in unison. “Today, our courtship ends and we now journey to our wedding day. From this moment on, we are now forged as One as our makers intended us to be. May our makers protect and guide us as we walk this path, and may we always find that our greatest treasure is the heart that beats in unison with our own.”

The runes on the ribbon began glowing as the pair spoke, giving another sign of the magic that lay within the ritual Mahal had gifted His children was working. The light faded, leaving the pair to stare at each other for a long moment before Thorin leaned in to press a kiss to her lips.

Hawthorn’s eyes closed, a shiver racing down her spine at the feeling of his lips against hers. His beard was soft where it brushed against her skin, adding another shiver to travel down her spine.

Her eyes opened when he slowly pulled away, finding him watching her with a look that held an ember of heat burning in those dark blue depths. Apparently, he’d been affected by the kiss as she had and she was glad to see to it. If her first kiss has been this amazing, she hoped that the kisses they shared from now on would be equally as wonderful.

Thorin smiled, pressing a kiss to their bound hands before unwinding the ribbon. When their hands separated, there was no sign of the wounds or the blood that had been drawn.

All eyes were on them as he began to weave the betrothal braid into her hair, replacing the courtship braid with the more intricate sign of their future nuptials. This one started on the right side of her head and crossed to her left side to hang amongst the curls. The ribbon that had been used in the ritual was woven into the braid, blending beautifully amongst the tawny colored hair, and he sealed the long braid with the clasp that he’d forged for the courtship braid. She would carry the ribbon in her hair until their wedding day, and the blade used for their ritual would remain with him until he was called to join his ancestors in Mahal’s Halls.

Once the braid was finished, Thorin kissed her once more, cupping her face with gentle hands. He could feel the bond starting to form between them and knew it would continue to grow, settling into its full form once they shared a bed as husband and wife. He relished the idea of being able to sense her and wondered just how strong the bond would become between now and their wedding day.

Cheers rang through the air when the kiss ended, and they were both surrounded by the company. Happy cries of well wishes for them filled the room, and their host and the wizard also added their wishes for a happy future. As he and his betrothed were guided to the table to enjoy the celebratory meal, Thorin’s gaze moved to the faces of each member of his company and prayed to Mahal that he would be able to provide more happy occasions for his people and his future wife.

Author’s End Note – I called Oin a Reader since it was mentioned in the first Hobbit movie that he read the portents so I figured that those with the gift of divination and the like, using rune stones, would be known as a Reader. They would have access to rituals and do things if the priests are not available to do so. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter; please let me know what you thought of it. ~ Laran
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Mending the Broken Pieces