Chapter One – He died on a Friday

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"I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo.

"So do I," said Gandalf, "and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us."

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

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He died on a Friday at the beginning of summer.

They laid him in the field behind the house, under an oak tree that he would sometimes lean upon to smoke his pipe. Freya sat beside her husband's grave and wept for all the loss in the world. All Lyra could do was watch from the kitchen window as her older sister clung to the grass and screamed to the heaven in a fit of wild and justified grief.

"Will Ma be okay?" asked Lyra's nephew, Jacob, in barely a whisper as he clutched his aunt's hand. Lyra knelt before the little boy and, pulling her sleeve over her hand, brushed away the tear tracks gently.

"Your Ma is a strong woman. She will be fine." Not one to comfort with well-meaning lies, Lyra truly believed this, as she knew the strength of heart her sister held deep down only to be used when the greatest need arose.

When the sun had disappeared behind the mountains to the east Lyra collected her sister from the damp ground and took her inside to sleep beside her children. Sad as it was but death was an old friend of these two girls, and so because of an understanding of the way of the world that only experience could grant; Freya never cried for her husband again.

Times grew tough for the family on the edge of Dale. Not long after her husband's death Freya discovered she was pregnant once again – and 12 weeks along as well. She had two children already: young Jacob of five years and Martha of two. Since Martha was born Freya had become pregnant one other time but lost the baby after 14 weeks, and so it was no surprise when both the sisters expected another miscarry.

But they made do. Freya could not work due to her young charges and so she tended to the strawberry bush in the garden and looked after the apple trees in the woods behind the field, planning on making jam when the fruit ripened to sell in the market at Dale. In her free moments she would spin wool bought for a reduced price from their neighbor Old Man Philip. He was sad to see Freya's husband die after knowing him since a young boy and so wanted to help out the two girls in any way he could.

Lyra thought that if he wanted to help that much than he could give them the wool instead of selling it to them, but Freya said she was being unfair, as Old Man Philips had to make a living to.

Lyra was a young woman of twenty years, six years the junior of Freya at six and twenty. Since she was fourteen years of age Lyra had held a stable job as a maid at one of the lesser Lords houses; a man name Lord Hogarth. Many of such aristocracy, the ones who could trace their lineage and lordship back to before Smaug's attack, had decided to call Dale their home once again after the reclaim of Erebor sixteen years prior. Lyra and Freya themselves had moved from Esgaroth to Dale when Freya had married ten years previously.

Lyra earned a modest wage, one considered relatively high for a woman who wasn't working in a brothel, and with the money she was earning it meant that her sister and her niece and nephew wouldn't starve come winter. With the loss of Freya's husbands work as a bricklayer, a job that had always been needed and paid relatively well due to the rebuilding of Dale over the last decade, it meant working longer hours and putting in extra chores.

The summer passed quickly and the girl's gathered as much coin as they could, but it was barely enough. The jam was sour and sold for a pittance and when the apples fell from the trees come September there was hardly enough for the family, let alone for them to sell. Old Man Philips, however, had abundance to wool and so Freya found her finger blistered and her back aching for rest most evenings.

Lyra hardly slept over those months. The cottage where they lived was one large room and the children shared a bed with their mother which mean Lyra had a straw mattress to herself; not that it did any good. Lyra would often think herself into a sorry state about all the things that could happen and would happen come winter. The small family didn't have very many friends due to their cottages position right on the boarders of Dale, at the end of a long lane and just touching the forests edges.

Freya's husband had laid the house himself claiming that it was the perfect spot to raise a family, away from the centre of town but close enough so they could walk and be there within half an hour. Lyra had to disagree; with so little people who knew them this meant less support and less people to care when they froze to death on a cold January night.

When these nights of unease struck Lyra she would grab her fathers old bow, go out into the field, to the back where the oak tree stood and her brother-in-law lay, and fire arrow after arrow into the study wood. Sometimes she would see a rabbit scurry by and aim for that instead, and the next day the family would go to sleep with fuller bellies. But most of the time all that could be heard was the clunck of the arrow striking the tree and the heavy breaths of a quick mind trying to figure out a big problem.

Lyra wasn't shy and she wasn't heartless, she just didn't feel that she had to fill silences with incessant chatter or kindly lies. Were she a lady she would have been called regal, but as a poor girl she was called insolent. If Lyra were to be described in one word, it would be practical – something she was very proud of. This sense of practicality meant that she knew what would happen come winter if Freya hadn't lost the baby by then; one more mouth to feed. Yet as the months wore on it looked less and less likely that her sister would miscarry.

At the end of September, with less than three months to go to the birth date, Lyra started to panic. This caused her to put extra effort into her work and extra care when she spoke to her sister. Freya knew the risk of having another child but it was too late to change anything, and in all honesty Lyra didn't think her sister could ever go ahead and purposely miscarry a child. Unlike her younger sister, Freya felt before she thought. Despite her impractical nature her sister's kind heart made Lyra determined do all she could to make sure the little babe would make it to spring.

Hour after hour, day after day Lyra worked for a greedy lord and his greedy daughter. She tidied up after them, washed their clothes, waited on their guests and served them their food. The lack of sleep meant for poor work but if she cut down on her time then there wouldn't be enough money to feed five. She thought that if her employers had cared for much past their fancy clothes and easy money they might have noticed that their floors weren't as clean as they could be or their windows as shinny, but they didn't say anything so she assumed they hadn't noticed her mistakes. It wasn't until an important event that all the hard work, all the sleepless nights and all the nervous twitches would catch up with her and come crashing down.

"Lyra!" screamed Lady Fiona in a shill voice. "I told you to clean my red ribbon you, silly girl. Oh this just won't do I'll have to wear the burgundy one now instead. Fix it, quickly now." Lady Fiona snapped her fingers at Lyra impatiently and Lyra, like the submissive maid she had trained herself to be, didn't even hesitate. Fiona had always taken a sick pleasure in bossing Lyra about; thinking herself prettier and more superior than her. In all fairness Lady Fiona was both.

The young woman, about Lyra's age, seemed to believe the world revolved around her, and the way men followed her about and simpered after the heiress seemed to instill this fact into her silly, little mind. But it was no wonder as compared to Lyra's sharp, angular face and dark, straight hair Fiona had a smooth, round face that just screamed wealth, red luscious lips and hair the same color to match. Although her father was a minor lord, Lady Fiona was practically queen of gossip and knew all there was to know about everyone and everything, meaning she had more standing in Dale than her heritage might suggest.

Lyra had played maid to Lady Fiona's tea parties between the other nobles in the town since she was a girl of fourteen and because of this she was also privy to knowledge involving gossip about everyone and everything. She might not have had a high-class education, but Lyra had a sharp memory and so knew a number of interesting things about a number of very rich lords and ladies.

"This feast tonight up in the main hall is very important and Daddy said he'd introduce me to the Princes of Erebor, don't you know. I need everything to be perfect!"

"My Lady," curtsied Lyra as she rushed to fix Lady Fiona's hair and brush down her dress. Fiona stood and pushed the maid away without care, looking at herself in her personal floor length mirror (a sign of excessive wealth).

Later that night Lyra stood at the back of the hall and helped the other servants serve the food and drink to the rich men and important delegates and then when the Dwarfs arrived she was also serving the rich dwarves and their important delegate. The whole evening, for a servant such as Lyra, was awfully boring. She hid a yawn behind her hand as she watched the collection of the two races compete between themselves and each other over riches and pretty wives.

She probably would have found the whole event very amusing, watching egos clash and pride damaged, if not for the direr situation her family was in, and thus the subsequent flaunting of wealth among those who could afford and the waste of money on the festivities left a bitter taste within her mouth. But, being the stoic person she was, she pushed down her feelings and completed her job.

She was told by one of the other serving girls that, as well as the king of Dale being in attendance, the king under the mountain was also there that evening. Some of the servants seemed to be in a bit of a state over the unexpected show of foreign royalty. Over the course of the evening Lyra interacted with King Thorin once as she refilled his Goblet during the meal. While she lent over his shoulder to pour his drink he held up his hand to indicate that that would be all, and Lyra stepped back to move onto the next empty wine glass. As she did Lyra accidently made eye contact with the dwarf king and probably, she contemplated later when she was alone, looked like a scared rabbit as he glanced over his shoulder casually at her. His look was intense but he nodded his thanks gently with a slight tilt of the head and then turned back to his conversation as if he hadn't just given the poor girl a rather unplanned heart attack.

Lyra thought, very briefly, how handsome the Erebor royalty was and noted that they seemed to stand slightly taller than most dwarfs. The two princes were of light and dark hair; the blond haired one who Lyra thought was Prince Fili had rich blue eyes and a plaited mustache framing a smiling face, and Prince Kili was what would typically be described as having rugged good looks, a glint of mischievousness in his eyes. The king was of a different sort; regal and strong in build, with a brooding stare and a strong jaw. King Thorin didn't have a long beard like a lot of dwarf folk but instead opting to keep it trimmed and neat, with long hair that had a number of small braids with beads plaited in.

As the night wore on and the party didn't seem to have an end in sight, Lyra found her eyes drooping heavily under the dull candlelight that illuminated the hall. Fearing she may collapse from exhaustion she found a seat in the corner of the hall, hidden away and snug behind a large support beam, and far enough away from Lady Fiona that she wouldn't notice her handmaiden's laziness - if the self-absorbed noble noticed Lyra's absence at all.

For the most of the evening Lyra had been standing a few feet behind the spoilt Lady, refilling her goblet and blending into shadows. At the beginning of the evening the Lady Fiona was constantly clicking for her maid, but as the night wore on and the Lady's goblet was several times emptied, Fiona took less and less notice of Lyra's presence and more attention fell on to unsuspecting royalty. Lyra almost pitied them.

Since arriving, Lady Fiona had been trying her hardest to get into the good graces of the two dwarf princes. Although uncommon it was not unheard of for the races of dwarfs and humans to intermingle and make marriage contract between lords and ladies. After all, the dwarfs in the mountains had no fields to work on to produce food nor the skill to work the land handed down from generation to generation that the children of men had. Thus every once in a while it was a benefit for the dwarfs to marry a rich lord with many fields and peasants under their instructions.

It is important to note that this practice was more common with minor dwarf lords who had little prospects within the mountain and so found a rich abundance externally. It was neither a popular practice nor a very highly regarded one but was so beneficial to the kingdom to have a claim to crop yield in the surrounding area that any disgust at having to marry a human was generally overlooked for profit. The greed of the dwarves should never be sneered at. Of course any offspring would generally be considered of the race of men – but just slightly shorter than average and an impressive beard to match; although the beard was not very common in women.

Of course, there was also a benefit in times of war to marry between races to create strong alliances. Unfortunately for Lady Fiona she was neither a rich lady with lots of land nor was there any wars approaching in the near future. Thus Fiona's effort, and the band of Lady's that were also following at the princes heal, simply looked ridiculous to Lyra and probably to most of the dwarfs and men present. In that moment she despised her own sex as they simpered and pranced over a pretty face – for she was not denying that the two princes were unusually attractive for dwarves.

Lyra remained seated for as long as her absence would not be a burden and when she felt that time had passed she prepared herself to continue her night's work. It was getting awfully late and she hoped that Lord Hogarth would soon intend to leave, but as he seemed to be in a deep conversation with a delegate from Lake Town she did not count her luck. Lyra lent down to pick up the wine jug at her feet and just as she moved to stand a deep laugh was heard from the other side of the support beam she had hidden herself behind.

"Oh brother, I am sick of these foolish women," said the deep voice.

"The women I could not get sick of, but the foolishness I could do without," agreed a second voice, very similar to the first.

"Certainly, Kili, if you should go a month without a woman in your bed chamber then I would worry about your wellbeing!" said the first voice again. With the mention of names, and a sinking feeling in the young girls stomach, Lyra risked a quick glance to the other side of the pillar and was displeased to have her suspicions confirmed as the two dwarf princes stood hardly an arm span away from her hidden form.

She thought she might risk quickly standing and moving along, but she knew she would not get away unnoticed as this part of the hall was not crowded and obviously why the brothers had chosen such a spot to have a private conversation. It was to either stand now and surely be seen and possibly be scolded for a poor job (as some nobles thought it their duty to instruct and discipline lesser people when out of line, and she knew nothing of the sort of people these princes were) or take a chance and stay put and hope they soon leave.

Lyra's legs still ached from all the standing and her eyes still felt heavy, and so it was these factors that convinced the exhausted girl that it was best to stay put for now.

"What of you brother, has anyone of these ladies caught your eye?" questioned the voice, Prince Kili Lyra assumed.

"I know Thorin wants me to marry soon, but I couldn't abide by marrying any of these women," Fili replied with amusement. "And what of you? That rounder woman seems to be… interested in you." The older prince spoke with laughter and mocking in his voice that caught Lyra's ear and made her listen. After spending so many years listening to Fiona's tea parties she found no guilt in eavesdropping on nobles; their problems rarely affected anyone but the upper circles and it could be interesting to listen to idle gossip to whittle away the time. Besides, if she heard some backhanded comment from the prince about one of Fiona's "rivals" then in relaying this information she could gain a tip.

Lyra caught her train of thought quickly and sat up with a frown. She sounded like a sniveling underling looking for approval from a higher up; like that creep Alfred who followed the king of Dale around like a child waiting for a treat. These scolding thoughts, however, did not prevent Lyra from listening still as she was ever the opportunist.

"Lady Fiona you mean?" Kili laughed outright at the idea and Lyra cocked her eyebrow in displeasure. She may not be particularly fond of the Lady but she had been her stable employer for many years and the ill words against her did not sit well in the young girl's stomach. "She is a fool to think we might be interested in her father's position, and even more of a fool to think we might be interested in her! If I have to pry her arm away from mine one more time I may go mad."

The two brother's laughed together at the expense of the lady and Lyra sat back in her chair with a huff. She did understand where the princes were coming from, as Fiona was being particularly forward and silly tonight, but she thought their words could have been kinder. The laugher soon died and a heavy atmosphere quickly replaced it.

"Have you heard about Gloin?" questioned Fili with sudden seriousness that Lyra didn't expect from such a joyous face.

"Yes, the relationship with Urbem-upon-Celduin has not improved. They have always been a temperamental race of men but with the reclaim of Erebor…"

"I know," Fili's voice fell to a hush that meant Lyra had to lean slightly forward to listen to the next words. "Mother has said that there is a high chance that one of us will have to be wed to one of the women of Urbem to secure the trade route across the Celduin and for our mutal support with the influx of attacks. She says they will only accept an engagement."

There was a sharp intake of breath before Kili spoke. "When she say's one of us…"

"She means you." Fili was not gentle in his explanation but the inflection in his voice explained clearly that he did not plan to let that happen. There was a heavy silence that followed this revelation as the brothers thought on the issues at hand. Lyra contemplated what it was she knew about the city of Urbem that she had either heard in public houses or from the many conversations Lady Fiona held over the years.

It was exactly due south-east of Dale on the south side of the River running. It was the only other city other than Dale and Esgaroth that sat on the river and as such if one wanted to send goods, too heavy for horseback, down the river to the Iron hills then a toll must be paid. If one simply wanted to trade south then you must pass through the city lest your journey be made significantly more difficult by the lack of respite or sales opportunity. Not to mention it held one of the few bridges between the north and the south of the river.

Yes, Lyra understood that Urbem could make trade very difficult or excessively easy for Erebor, and that a marriage between the cities would be very wise.

She then thought on the military benefits that Urbem might give Erebor. The dwarf kingdom was barely even a city as the population was so thin compared to what it once was, therefore the military power was sure to be lacking. There was, of course, the Iron hills just due east of the lonely mountain and the Grey mountains north-west but a southern alliance would give the city a much more secure position and would quickly deter any attacks on the area. From what Prince Fili spoke of the 'influx of attacks' this meant that there was obviously a growing issue from orcs and with the rumors from Mordor it would obviously be something the royalty of the lonely mountain were concerned about.

Equally it would benefit the people of Urbem to have an alliance with Erebor as there was nothing but wasteland between their city and the mountain rage of Mordor. Their king would be growing equally as concerned with the rumors that filled every tavern and town-hall between Mordor to the Grey Havens. Lyra may not have had a fancy education, but she was bright and could understand a lot of what she heard.

Lyra was so lost in thought contemplating the princes words that she didn't hear the approaching footsteps nor the high pitched laugh that accompanied it, until it was too late.

"Oh my Lords, there you are! Is the party not to your liking?" questioned the voice of none other than Lady Fiona. Lyra swallowed heavily and deeply regretted not having made the dash to the other side of the room earlier. Like a frozen deer startled by a hunter Lyra couldn't make her brain process fast enough to come up with an idea to quickly retract herself from the situation.

"Not at all my Lady," Prince Fili said civilly. "Simply taking a moment away from the crowds." Fiona, with all the grace of a lesser Lady, obviously chose not to take the hint, and Lyra expected nothing less from her noble patron.

"Oh well I suppose it is much nicer over here, I think I'll take a seat." There was a slight slur in her voice and a stumble in her step that told of the excessive wine consumption of the evening. Too late, however, did Lyra comprehend what the Lady had said and before she could stand Lady Fiona had stumbled past the pillar to sit down on the bench further up the wall. Before she made it, unfortunately, the Lady spotted her seated servant and began to turn a very strange shade of pink.

"What do you think you are doing?" questioned the Lady with so little grace Lyra had a hysterical thought that she might as well have been an inn-keeper daughter for all the nobility she was displaying. This thought didn't, however, stop Lyra from quickly rising to her feet, forgotten wine jug still in her hands, and bowing her head in submission.

"Apologies my lady, I was simply resting my feet." Lyra felt the top of her ears turning red and the eyes of both the princes on the back of her neck. She knew that they knew that she had heard all they had said and prayed to the Valar that there would be no consequence for her eavesdropping.

"I do not pay you to rest your feet," sneered the Lady. You do not pay me at all, your father does, thought Lyra, but she kept this particular witty remark to herself.

"No my Lady you do not," she said instead, still with her head bowed, but she caught out the corner of her eye her mistress look to the dwarf princes in embarrassment at her servant's behavior.

"You will get no coin from my house this evening, child." Fiona was obviously mortified that the princes had witnessed her servant's disobedience and was trying to rectify the situation quickly, but failed as the princes glanced disapprovingly at the harsh actions against her employee. Fiona thought the disappointment was directed at Lyra, however, and looked rather pleased with herself.

Lyra had blanked at Lady Fiona calling her child as she was twenty-year-old woman and in fact older than the Lady herself, a point Lyra knew that Fiona was aware of. When it registered in her slow mind that she had lost her pay for the evening Lyra took a deep breath and tried to exhale her resentment at the spoilt girl. It was exceedingly difficult however and Lyra found the need to escape from the situation as quickly as would allow.

"Of course, my Lady," Lyra spoke respectfully, but anyone were listening closely they could hear a bitter bite. "If you take a seat I will get you a drink."

Lyra started to walk away from the corner and in the direction of the serving table at the other side of the room, determined not to look at the princes. She didn't think they would call her out on her eavesdropping, as one of the subject of their conversation was standing right before them, but she didn't want to chance grabbing the attention of two very rich dwarfs who could make her life even more difficult than it currently was if they thought they had been wronged. She was concentrating very hard on getting away that she didn't notice Fiona's hand reach out to grab her arm as she walked passed; the same arm that was half-full of warm, red wine, and because of this Lyra was not in the slightest prepared for what happened next.

"Wait one minute-" whatever the Lady was about to say would never be known as she was cut off by the contents from the wine jug, forced out from the jolting of Lyra's arm, coming in contact with her plump face.

After this it was simply a blur of screaming and crying on Lady Fiona's part; fussing and dark looks on Lord Hogarth's part; stuttering and dread on Lyra's part and, if Lyra was to recall correctly, sniggering from the two princes who stood in the corner and seem to be enjoying the show.

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Thank you for giving the story a chance! I'll be updating weekly hopefully. This project has been in the works for years now and I'm excited to finally be able to publish the first chapter. Please review and let me know what you think!

And if I unintentionally to get any lore wrong then please let me know. I am also not fantastic at spelling and grammar so please forgive the little mistakes, and if there are any big ones then please let me know! I am open to anyone that is interested in Betaing the story.