It would be eight days before Inge would recover, the wound along her side requiring much more care than we had anticipated.  On the third day, I asked Bernd to help me move Inge to our house inside the town.  Her remaining animals had now been kept in our own stables and it only made sense to move her closer, and where it was safer.  

I took care of her as she healed, using up all her reserves of athelas and other herbs on her wound, which seemed to stem the infection more than anything else the midwife had suggested.  Using needle and thread soaked in manuca, I learned how to sew her wound shut and even that of my own, but not before drinking an ample supply of ale to dull the pain, and finding myself uselessly sobbing afterwards.  

The ale had dulled my senses enough to make me dream of Thorin and the first time I’d seen him walk past my window.  It brought back the moment when I spoke to him in Khuzdul and I saw in his eyes then that he knew who I was, his suspicions confirmed.  I dreamt of the necklace that he had given me, lengthened now with more links of mithril but now only a memory for I’d lost it during the night of the goblin raid.  But then my dream ended with him kissing me on that cave floor, where my own body yielded to his touch even when he was already spoken for to someone else.  It made me cry out in my sleep and when I awoke, I vowed to keep my mind too busy to think of Thorin and the life I’d never have with him.  

The days afterwards were filled with too many chores that left me too tired to think of anything else but sleep.  I tended to the animals first thing in the morning, before making food for Inge and myself, and caring for her.  I continued to sew like a madwoman, even fixing Thorin’s battered cloak no matter how much I told myself that I wanted nothing to do with him.  I started with the luxurious pelt, cleaning it and brushing it till it was soft and thick again before mending the rips with delicate stitches, using everything I’d learned from Jerrel about making things look like new once again.  When it was all done, two weeks had passed, and it looked as if it was new.  

For Bernd, I made him the coat he’d always wanted, one that almost matched Thorin’s in its grandeur but more similar to that I’d seen on King Thror when he stood before me that day.  It would be a coat that would make Bernd stand out from everyone else, much like Lialam did.  

He started coming to the house on the third day, first for his fittings and then to stay for the night caring for Inge.  He’d send me up to my room for the night, ordering me to sleep for he knew I’d been up since dawn to take care of everything around the house that once, we’d shared the duties together.  I never complained, only grateful that he still thought of me at least, once his sister, even though he now was the official and most importantly, permanent, mayor of Greenbanü.

I had set Inge up in the main room in the lower floor, where I sewed and took in the view of the courtyard between our home and Jürgen’s workshop as she slept.  I missed the sounds of the forge and the older man’s sweet smile, but Jürgen was needed elsewhere now.  He and Bernd had taken residence inside Lialam’s keep, with Bernd remaining as the new mayor and Jürgen overseeing the guards, punishing those who remained loyal to Edgard.  

Though they chose not to tell me the specifics of what happened after they found both Edgard and Lialam that night, I knew enough that Edgard was dead.  They burned his body along with rest of the goblins outside of the town that very day, leaving his head on a spike as a warning to anyone else seeking to betray the people.  

Ever since Edgard had joined Lialam years earlier, they had worked together in collecting the reward for any leads concerning my whereabouts.  They tracked merchant caravans returning home from their travels, raiding them with the help of goblins willing to work with them in exchange of livestock and human flesh.  They themselves had become merchants of death and deceit. 

Along with the dwarves who came to our rescue the night of the goblin raid were the fathers of the two wives Lialam had taken by force.  They wasted no time in recovering their daughters, staying long enough only to demand justice to be meted out with Lialam’s head on a spike next to Edgard’s.  

Judgment for Lialam had been swift, but not as extreme as the girls’ fathers would have wanted.  For though many in the town wished for his death, in the end, it was Bernd’s decision to make.  Lialam would languish in the dungeons for the remainder of his life, a punishment still considered to be lenient by those who’d lost too many loved ones to his treachery.  But in the end, Lialam died by his own hand.  The guards found him dead from poison he had stored in a secret compartment in one of his rings.  A cowardly end for a coward, but it didn’t matter in the end.  For life simply went on.

If anyone had wondered why I’d stayed behind and not left with the dwarves, they kept their questions to themselves, even though I knew they whispered behind my back every time I left the house.  Even Bernd and Jürgen remained silent, too busy with all their new duties in reinforcing the wall around the town and setting up daily patrols for there were two other goblin raid attempts in the next month.  Even the farmers Lialam had banished to live outside the town were relocated within, reunited with relatives and friends.  There was much to do, not leaving anyone enough time for regrets.

Every three days, I saddled up my favorite pony and went up to the hill where Lyssan was buried to lay flowers upon her grave.  It took me away from the town, giving me time alone from everything that used to be home to me but no longer felt like it.  For everything had changed and no matter what I did to try to make things appear like they used to be, my efforts only reminded me that nothing was ever going to be the same.  

So I sat and talked to my mother till just before the sun dipped below the tree line to the west and I’d make my way back to the town that was no longer my home, and live life as if I’d never met Thorin.  I often found myself wondering how he was.  The wound along his side didn’t seem too grave, but still, I prayed that it did not get infected at all, much like my own wound had.  I knew he was strong, and he was surrounded by many who cared for him.  There was no need for me to worry, I told myself.  

 Twice I found flowers upon my mother’s grave next to my own, white flowers with pink centers.  They smelled sweet and it gave me comfort to know that someone else still remembered her, and that she was not alone.  Maybe it was Arna, I thought.  

Six weeks after the goblin raid, I found Balin standing before my mother’s grave.  He was alone, his pony tethered along the same tree that I’d used for the same purpose.  He must have just finished a day of working as a scribe for I saw splashes of ink still fresh on his fingertips.  

“How long have you been coming to visit her?” I asked as we both walked down the hill to stand beneath the shade.  I had come early with a basket of food, looking forward to a few hours simply talking to my mother about the boring details of my day, and often about my shame of having given myself to Thorin.  I was sure she wouldn’t have minded, but it helped to get it out in the open, even if there was no one to hear me.  

But seeing Balin that day made me realized just how much I yearned for the companionship of dwarves.   I offered to share my meal with him and he nodded, helping me set a blanket upon the grass where we sat down and began to unload the basket.  

“This is the first time I’ve returned here,” he replied.  “I was fortunate to finish work early today and I thought Lady Lyssan would enjoy some company before we start our journey to Dunland.”

“So he is well then? Thorin?” I asked, making a face as I realized my question.  

“Yes, he is well,” Balin replied, smiling faintly as he watched me carefully.  “Thorin is a resilient lad.”

I was glad he was well, but knowing that they were leaving so soon made my throat tighten.  “When do you leave?”

“A week after Durin’s Day,” Balin replied.  

“After the wedding,” I said.

Balin nodded. “Yes, after the wedding. A week from today, in fact.”

We ate in silence for some time but I knew he was still watching me closely.  So Thorin was getting married after all, I thought.  I forced a smile.  “I’m really happy for him.  Truly I am.”

“I’m glad to know that, lass,” Balin said.  “It almost never happened, you know.  For Lady Máni almost changed her mind.”

“But why?”

“A prince with a mountain such as Erebor is one thing.  But a prince with no mountain and no home for that matter is another.  And when he refused to go with her and live in the Iron Hills with her, she almost said no to the wedding.  For it is a difficult choice, isn’t it?” He said, a wry smile on his lips.  

“What is?”

“To leave a life of comfort in the Iron Hills where one has a mountain over one’s head, food upon the table, and even respect that we take too much for granted in exchange for a life of uncertainty is a huge choice for anyone to make, lass.  To wander the wilderness not knowing where you’re going to lay your weary head or whether you have enough food on the table are not such easy choices to make.  Don’t you think so?”

I nodded.  “I’m sure love makes such decisions easier to make, Lord Balin.  I wish them both good fortune and good health.”

Balin raised his cup in a toast. “To good fortune,” he said.

“And good health,” I said as we drank the last of the wine that I had brought with me and began to tidy up.  He thanked me for the meal and got up.  Balin helped me to my feet, apologizing that he had to leave, for Fennhill was a much longer journey to make than my return to Greenbanü.

“I cannot wait to see your brother and Jürgen at the wedding,” he said as he mounted the pony.  

“They’re coming?  Who invited them?”

Balin laughed. “Thorin, of course.  And he’s invited you, too. I would have thought you knew that already.”

I shook my head.  “No one told me.”

Balin shrugged.  “Masters Berndt and Jürgen paid us a visit two days ago.  It was a pleasant evening and I am happy to know they are taking good care of you.”  He sighed.  “I hope you do not take this wrong, but my only regret is that you chose not to join your people, Lady Frigga.  But then I cannot blame you.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.  

Balin spurred his pony forward, stopping only turn to look back at me one last time.  “I would give anything to have a permanent roof over my head and food and drink on the table,” he said.  “Though Thorin doesn’t blame you for your decision to stay in Greenbanü, I have to admit that he was saddened by it.”

His father pushed me away, I wanted to scream at Balin as he rode away.  The dwarves closed in on the family without giving me a chance to-

But it was no use.  I hurriedly got everything together and went up to my mother’s grave only to tell her that I couldn’t stay as long as I’d wanted for now I was too upset.  I just wanted to go home.  

But as I turned my pony northwards, I turned to look towards the south, where the fading figure of Balin grew smaller with each passing minute.  That was where my true home was, I thought, sighing.  

But then, some things were simply not meant to be.

~~~

Durin’s Day came faster than I would have wanted.  Bernd and Jürgen had indeed paid the dwarves a visit in Fennhill, though the visit had been for  political reasons more than anything else.  For both men had reforged an alliance between their towns, extinguishing differences that Lialam’s rule had created, opening up opportunities for trade and most of all, trust.  

While they were there, they requested an audience with King Thror, his son Thrain and Thorin.  What they talked about they never told me, only that we had been invited to the prince’s wedding.  It was a simple affair, not of the grand scale that it would have been had the wedding been held in Erebor, but it was a celebration just the same.  And one that the people of Fennhill were eager to celebrate as well, even though the dwarves still remained as secretive as they were and the wedding itself was meant to be an intimate affair.  

But there was another reason why Bernd was taking me to Fennhill.  He made it clear when I confronted him shortly after my meeting with Balin about the wedding invitation that he never bothered to tell me about.

“I am taking you back to your people where you belong,” he said.  

“You don’t want me here?” I demanded. 

Bernd sighed.  “I want you here very much,” he said.  “But I don’t want to have you here feeling as if you don’t belong.  Since Thorin left, you’ve barely smiled — really smiled like you used to.  And you barely eat as it is.  You overwork yourself so you don’t have to think of certain things.  It breaks my heart to see your soul so broken.”

I looked away, not wanting Bernd to see the tears filling my eyes.  

“So you think sending me away to live with the dwarves will make things better?”

“I wish I could undo the past.  I wish my parents had never taken you away from your home, but what’s done is done.  They gave me a sister I never had and I treasure our times together,” Bernd said.  “Sending you away to live with your own kind is the best thing I can do to right all the wrongs done to you.” 

“Thorin’s father didn’t want me,” I said.  “He pushed me away.”

Bernd shook his head.  “You mistake the action of a concerned father for his son as a slight against you, sister.”  He got up and walked towards the door.  

“I’ve made up my mind, and there’s nothing you can do to change it,” he said.  “I know I haven’t exactly been right with my decisions, but this time, there are no doubts in my heart on what I need to do.  And please don’t argue with me on this,” he added, raising his hand up to stop me from saying anything else.

And this time, I didn’t.  For Bernd was right. I was miserable in Greenbanü.  Being with Inge and taking care of her was one of the few things that made me truly happy.  But she, too, was moving on, for Bernd didn’t just stay with her during her recovery to give me time to rest.  He had stayed with her because he loved her.  I didn’t know when his love for her started, but we’d all known each other for so long that it didn’t matter anymore.  After Bernd and Jürgen would return from Fennhill, Inge was going to move into the keep to live with him till they decided on a date to marry.

Everyone, it seemed, was moving on.  As I knew I should as well.

On the day of Thorin’s wedding, it was hardest for me to say good-bye to Inge.  She had recovered from the stab wound, but the journey to Fennhill and back was deemed too much for her at the moment.  And as much as she wanted to come along, it was Bernd and Jürgen both who urged her not to.  In the end, she relented, and as we said our good-byes, I knew that it would probably be the last time I’d ever see her again.  

“Unless you travel to Dunland, then maybe we’ll see each other again,” I said.  “But I don’t even know where the dwarves are going.”

“And does that frighten you?” She asked.

I found myself looking down at my hands.  “After I leave here, I will be without a home, Inge.  And it frightens me.”

“Yet you will be with your own kind,” she said softly.  “You can stay here still, I’m sure of it.  But Bernd is only doing the best for you now.  We’ve all seen how unhappy you’ve been since Thorin left.”

“He’s getting married today, Inge,” I said pointedly.  “You yourself told me he was betrothed.”  

Inge sighed.  “What do I know of dwarven rituals?  I only saw what I saw.  But is it really that terrible?  Surely there is someone else out there whom you will fall in love with? Who will love you without any reservations?”

I chose not to answer Inge this time.  There was no point in telling her just how scared I was of what lay ahead of me.  The only thing I needed to do now was take that step forward and move on.  After all, everyone else had done so.

Jürgen helped me onto my pony before mounting his horse and together with Bernd and a small retinue of guards, we made our way to Fennhill.  It was a beautiful day and I couldn’t help but smile.  

As we passed the hill where my  mother was buried, I knew it would be the last time I’d pass this way again, and I imagined her standing there and watching us all pass by.  Maybe she was smiling, I thought, knowing that I was finally returning to my own people.  

I took one last look at the hill before turning my attention to the road before me.  A new chapter awaited me now.  And I needed to face it head on, for just as Lady Máni chose to forsake the comforts of the Iron Hills for a future devoid of the simplest comforts of living all because she loved Thorin, I needed to do it, too — not for any dwarf — but for myself.