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Ikrêsik	By : LadyLaran Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Hobbit, The Views: 3112 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit nor do I make money from this story!

Chapter List
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Author’s Note – Here’s the last chapter! I hope everyone enjoyed this tale; I had fun writing it.

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

Chapter Three – Celebration

Thorin received word of the couple’s emergence from the room two days after Clover had entered. He smiled, glad to hear the news, and sent messages to the rest of the family. The king had used the time well, preparing for the braiding ceremony and feast for his sister., and he hoped she and his shield brother would be pleased with the results of the hard work the company had done.

The king left his study, hurrying towards his sister’s chambers since he knew Dwalin would be attended by his brother to help ready for the braiding ceremony. He heard voices behind the door and knocked, going in when he heard Clover’s voice call out.

Going from the wet hair that Eira was combing out, it seemed his sister had finished her bath and was examining the skirt of the gown he’d commissioned for her.

“Thorin, this is too much,” she told him. “We’re still busy rebuilding, and a dress for this would have pulled at least one person away from the restoration work.”

He laughed at that, knowing his sister worried too much over things. The dress had been important to him, and it suited her well now that she was wearing it. The Durin blue, which she was entitled to wear due to his adoption of her as his sister as well as her marriage to Dwalin, made her tawny hair look more golden.

“I think it looks lovely on you, little sister, and I am pleased to be able to finally spoil my sisters. I have a few gowns being made for Dis as well, and they’ll be in her chambers when she arrives,” he told her. “This is a special day, Clover, and I have a right to prove that I am proud of my sister and happy she found her One.”

“As you wish, fy mrawd , but you know I am not one for expensive things,” Clover said quietly.

“I know, but I have the right to ignore that and do it anyway. Dwalin will most likely do the same as we tend to spoil our Ones as much as possible,” he countered.

“I suppose,” she sighed. “Reminds me, where are my things?”

“Fili and Kili moved them to the suite I chose for you and Dwalin,” he stated. “You’ll need more room since you’re married now.”

“Let me guess, the one on the upper floor down the hall from your suite,” the hobbit asked, keeping her head still as Eira worked through the tangles in her hair.

Thorin grinned; he’d tried to get her into that suite so his sister would have surroundings worthy of her. She’d turned it down, choosing a simple bedroom, and now he could have her closer with the rest of the family. Clover had no way to argue with him, and the amusing expression on her face told him she knew what he was thinking.

“Nice guess, little sister,” he chuckled. “Balin agreed and had Dwalin’s belongings moved there too once it was ready.”

“Underhanded means of getting your way, fy mrawd. I’ll have to come up with suitable punishment later,” she pouted. “So the braiding ceremony, is it similar to the one we had when you claimed me as your sister at Beorn’s?”

“Very similar,” he answered. “Before you worry, I have a bead for you to put into his hair. I spent some time at one of the smaller forges to get it done.”

“Thank you for taking care of it,” Clover told him, staying still as Dain’s wife coiled most of the tawny curls into a very intricate chignon that had a strand of tiny sapphires intertwined into the heavy mass of hair. A lock of hair of the left side of her head had been tucked behind her ear, ready for the warrior to braid, and the family braid Thorin had woven months ago was worn free from the chignon.

“You’re welcome,” he said, smiling wider when Eira stepped back and the hobbit rose to her feet. “You look beautiful.”

“I feel overdressed,” she groused, then realized that her brother was in his formal garments as well. “Special meetings today?”

“Unfortunately,” he commented. “The others will be dressed up too so you won’t be the only one looking their best. Now, may I have the honor of escorting two beautiful ladies to the King’s Hall?”

Eira looked at Clover, who tilted her head playfully, and the dwarrowdam laughed.

“You’re fortunate my husband isn’t here to hear that, cousin.”

“Dain is forever praising your beauty, Eira, and if he found I didn’t make an offer in this manner, he’d try to crack my head open with his leg,” he reminded her, making both women giggle.

“I suppose I shall oblige you then,” Eira said, taking his right arm while Clover took his left. “If only to save you from my silly husband’s wrath.”

“For which I shall be eternally grateful,” he teased, escorting them out of Clover’s old room towards the hall.

The King’s Hall, where they had tried to kill the dragon with liquid gold, had been attended to during the earlier renovations since the gold would make the floor too slick to be walked on. At Kili’s suggestion, some workers had etched designs to try to give the floor more traction and it had worked. It wasn’t Thorin’s favorite room because of the gold surface, but it was one of the few areas that could be used for the ceremony.

Clover looked surprised when they entered the room to find all of the dwarrow who had accompanied Dain waiting in the massive hall. She’d expected this part to be just family, but it seemed all of the dwarrow had decided to celebrate the marriage.

Eira joined her husband near the front of the room, and Thorin escorted Clover to where his sister-sons, Balin, and Dwalin were waiting. He positioned her to stand in front of her husband and took his own position next to the couple.

“Today is a day of celebration,” he called out. “Dwalin, son of Fundin, has found his One in my sister, Clover, daughter of Belladonna. Today, they will give each other formal braids so that all will know they are joined together by the will of Mahal and His Wife, Yavanna.”

At Thorin’s nod, Dwalin stepped closer to his wife and pulled the lock of hair that had been left free for this purpose from behind her ear. He braided the lock, voice firm as he spoke.

“By the will of Mahal, I recognize you as the other half of my soul. I will love, protect, and honor you as we walk this life together. With this braid, I now claim you as mine,” he told her, ending the braid with a beautiful silver and sapphire clasp.

She smiled, claiming a lock of Dwalin’s beard and began braiding. Clover pitched her voice so it could be heard, and her eyes were bright as she braided.

“By the will of Yavanna, I recognize you as the other half of my soul. I will love, protect, and honor you as we walk this life together. With his braid, I now claim you as mine,” she stated, taking the bead from Thorin and using it to seal the braid.

“These vows are heard and witnessed. May the Valar bless you both,” Thorin told them, shaking his head and laughing when Dwalin cupped her face and eagerly kissed her.

The hall was full of cheering when the kiss ended; everyone was glad to see one of their own finding his One. It was always a time of celebration when that happened, and the noise was incredible considering the hall wasn’t full.

When the kiss ended, their eyes met and she smiled happily up at her husband, silently thanking the Valar for bringing them together. She’d had no idea that when thirteen dwarrow and an annoying Istar had invaded her smial that she would be meeting her cariad.

Her heart was full of joy knowing she had pretty much everything she had ever wanted standing right here in this mountain. There was only one thing that her heart still yearned for and, Yavanna willing, that would happen in time.

“All right, gayadê?”

“Never better, fy anwylyd. I am happier than I have ever been,” she answered, smiling into the kiss he bestowed once he heard her answer.

The kiss soon ended, and the couple followed their king to the feast. Both of them were thanking their creators for the blessing bestowed today and if they also sent a quick prayer for a future blessing, only their creators would know!

Author’s End Note – I hope everyone enjoyed this. Quick translations: fy mrawd means my brother and fy anwylyd means my belovedin Welsh (which I’m using for the native Hobbit language) and gayadê is khuzdul for my joy.
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