Just so you know, if you want to understand this story better, you may read Heart of Gold first since this is a sequel to that story. However, you can read this without actually reading Heart of Gold :) And to those previous readers of Heart of Gold, thank you so much for following my beloved Helga's story! :) I hope you enjoy this chapter, albeit it being a bit short.

It was a regular day, of you were to ask any other dwarf, man, or elf in Dale. The streets were busy and bustled with the market life, and life, as some may say, was swell.

It has been 5 years since the Battle of the Five Armies, and the singed land cultivated fields and crops once more. Dwarves soon returned to Erebor, and as a new decree of prosperity and harmony, men and elves were now allowed to reside inside the mountain. No one, even the Company, knew why their king declared such an act. Some say that it was to give way to his nephews' choice of a mate, a readheaded elf from Mirkwood for the youngest prince and a fair-haired girl from the Men of Laketown.

Some say that it was a form of gratitude to a late human member of the Company who once lost a home, and was promised one in Erebor.

But those were just the rumors that spread around the eastern part of Middle Earth, and the King Under the Mountain brushes rumors off like a lint on his doublet. And speaking of the king...

"How are things faring in Dale, Bard?" Thorin asked, as he went around the streets of Dale with it's own king beside him.

"All is well at the moment. We have lived through five years of hard won and undisturbed peace, Thorin. I can forsee that we will have much more simillar years to come," The usually grim man spoke. "Especially now that we rare soon to be kin." He said with a smirk.

"Only by marriage," Thorin grumbled, as he looked around the stalls. "And it's not me who you'd want to be related to. My sister has always been the most likeable one between us siblings. And how I wish that she was here. All this preparations for the wedding has never been my area of expertise."

"Why not let your queen do it?" Bard asked. "Your wedding was her doing and it was simple yet elegant." Bard commented, looking around the flower shop that they had stopped by. He noticed that Thorin had a sudden look of regret wash over his face and he gave a sad smile.

"Trust me, if I had the chance to change it I would." He said grimly, and he continued walking. Bard shook his head and clapped the dwarf king's back.

"Do not be grim, your majesty. The weather is good, we are alive, and there are more grim days in the far future. Dwell on the present, master dwarf!" But Thorin could not find himself to agree with his friend, for he desired to be anywhere but the present.

Once the king arrived, he went on to tend to his usual duties -he did his rounds in the mines, walked around the houses in Erebor, listened to those who wants an audience with him, and made a very quick check in the treasury. Once he was done, he went to his study where he locked himself away along with a bottle of aged Gondorian Brandy and his thousands and thousands of paper work. Somewhere during the night -he wasn't sure how long he stayed in there, a knock fell upon the wooden door of his study.

"Enter." Thorin said. He looked up and saw his eldest nephew standing there, holding him a tray of dinner.

"You missed dinner again." Fili said, setting the tray of food on whatever space was left on Thorin's desk.

"Did I?" His uncle asked, eyes never leaving the letter that he was writing.

"We need to talk, uncle." Fili said, sitting down on the chair in front of Thorin's desk.

"If you are thinking about cancelling your wedding with Princess Sigrid, then we really do need to talk. I have spent weeks trying to get your wedding together, and Princess Sigrid is more than compatible for-"

"What?! No! I love Sigrid! This is not about me, uncle -this is about you," Fili exclaimed, and Thorin stopped writing. He looked up at Fili and gave him a look that urged him to go on. "Uncle, you can't keep missing dinner, you can't keep avoiding auntie, and soon enough, you would have to produce an heir to your throne!" Fili explained.

"Fili, I do not miss out our dinners on purpose -I am not a child. And why would I need another heir? I have you to take over the throne." Thorin argued, and Fili looked at him, as if disappointed.

"I know that the anniversary for the Battle of the Five Armies is nearing, uncle, but you have to stop blaming yourself and let auntie in. As your wife, she has the right to know."

"She does not have to know, Fili. It's in the past." Thorin said, and he continued to write his letters. Fili sighed and stood up. It was pointless to argue with Thorin in such a state. As Fili left, another knock came. He looked up and saw Balin standing there, a determined loom on his eyes. Thorin couldn't resist the rolling of his eyes.

"What? Come to give me a lecture about my marriage, too?" Thorin asked, and Balin stopped in his tracks.

"Actually, I came here to tell you about the council meeting that you missed awhile ago... But now that you mentioned it-" Balin was cut off when Thorin slammed his palm on his desk, the inkpot nearly spilling.

"My marriage is my own business, and whatever is wrong between my wife and I will be solved by my wife and I." Thorin growled. However, Balin was used to Thorin's temper, and he brushed it off.

"It's been five years, Thorin. It's time to stop blaming yourself for what happened." Balin said.

"You know nothing of what I feel, Balin. No one understands how I feel." Thorin said, raising his voice, but Balin did not waver.

"Tell those who have lost something or someone from the Battle, Thorin. Tell that to the widows, the orphans, and the childless, and ask yourself again if no ome can understand your pain." Balin said. Silence fell upon them and Balin nodded, bowed, and left.

The king crept into his bedroom in the middle of the night, after he could drink and write mo more. He washed his face first in the basin on the vanity before he removed his crown, rings, and ear cuffs. He then proceeded to strip into his tunic and breeches before turning to face his bed. It was occupied by a breathing form, and as he stepped closer, he could see the golden hair of his wife. Climbing on his bed, he gently laid on his side, facing his wife's back. Tentatively, he wrapped his am around his wife's waist and pressed his lips on his wife's bare shoulders. He closed his eyes, tears falling from remembering a night in Laketown -a night where he felt young and alive with a golden-haired woman. For a moment, it was like they were back in that bed many years ago. They were in similar position as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear. He felt the body stir under his arms and turn to face him. He smiled softly as he saw Helga's face...

For a while...

The king blinked once more and instead of the face of the beautiful dragon rider, it was the face of his dwarven wife, Tamara. Instead of those warm, brown eyes looking up at him, icy blue orbs stared back at him.

"What is it, my king?" Tamara asked, placing a hand on his cheek. Overwhelmed with emotions, he just pulled his wife closer, feeling her heartbeat and letting his unshed tears fall.

How can he dwell in the present, when the past keeps haunting him every single night?