Long authors note will be (slightly) long….

Firstly I'd like to say how incredibly sorry I am about the wait for this chapter. I've had this chapter in the works since May, but I've just never really finished it. I went to Rome and thought I'd have some inspiration, but it actually sucked my muse dry. Then there have been family funerals, weddings and birthdays to attend. To top it all off my laptop broke twice in quick concession and I just wanted to crawl under a rock and go to sleep.

But both work and college have let up a little now, meaning that I'm going to have an entire week to myself over Christmas. Hopefully I might get some writing done then. (If not, I give you my express permission to hunt me down and stab me with dwarvish iron.)

This chapter is more like an apology chapter and I probably won't put another one up until the week of Christmas (Christmas day maybe?). The sole reason it's going up now is due to multiple PMs enquiring about updates, and as a celebration of the UK Premier of the final film on Friday (Which I have successfully avoided all spoilers for, except for reading the actual book).

I have tried to make this chapter as long as possible and add more detail as an apology, but I can never seem to write chapters that are that long.

Should updates once again stop, you can either annoy me or read some of my other stuff on my tumblr account 'fandom- -desires'.

So yeah, sorry about the wait and I hope that I can start earning your forgiveness!

The entire arena was quiet. Everyone was holding their breath, even Tharin, who has absolutely no idea what was going on. The sand has been freshly raked and the circle redrawn perfectly in crisp white chalk. The spectators had been pushed back so that no one was stood within a 10ft radius of the circle.

The stands seem to bow under the weight of so many dwarves, as it seemed the entirety of Erebor had crammed themselves into the arena. There were dwarves sitting on laps and shoulders, some handing precariously off the side of the stands and others stood crammed into corners. Whereas there would normally be an ear-splitting level of noise, Aire couldn't even hear herself breathe. The silence seemed almost as tense as the one that preceded the Battle of the Five Armies.

This was the final fight of the day and the only opportunity that the dwarves got to see their King fight and prove his title as protector of the mountain. The opponents for the fight had been selected carefully, each handpicked by Dwalin himself. Neither of them could pose a threat to Thorin's life, though they could try as hard as they liked to defeat him in the arena.

When the air was so heavy and still it felt as though it might suffocate someone, it began to shake. A low hum of noise from near the doors grew quickly until it was a loud, rowdy, ear-splitting cheer. Dwarves were whistling, clapping and stamping their feet. Previous contestants were hitting weapons and armour together, and others just seemed to be roaring like a lion.

Eventually Thorin appeared, flanked by Dwalin, and made his way into the circle. Both wore nothing but trousers and boots, their bare chests showing off their inkings and their scars, both of which were numerous on the King and the Captain. The majority of Dwalin's scars were hidden by inkings that stained his hair a bluish grey, but no amount of ink could cover the deep marks that criss-crossed Thorin's chest; a painful reminder of just how close to death he had come .

Dwalin's battle axes were still strapped to his back, though he carried his war hammer in his hands. Both Orcrist and an axe were strapped to Thorin's waist, although the King needed to keep an hand on the hilt of Orcrist to stop it dragging on the sand.

Gloin and Bagíl appeared from the doorway once Thorin and Dwalin were within the circle. Both were shirtless and although they bore no fewer inkings, they bore far fewer scars. Likewise, their weapons were strapped to their backs and their waists.

"It's surely a shame for the lasses that Dwalin is the only available one." Dis said over the din of the crowd. It was hardly a secret that Dwalin was about as romantic as a rock. He was far less romantically inclined than Thorin had once been, and it was likely that the only love he would ever feel would be that for his brother and his King.

The noise stopped suddenly as Thorin drew Orcrist and readied himself opposite Gloin. There was complete silence as the four dwarves paced the arena, eyeing each other up and waiting for the first move.

It was Dwalin who moved first, swinging his war hammer up over his head and bringing it down on Bagíl with an almighty roar. Bagíl sidestepped, lifted his axe and swung, knocking Dwalin slightly off balance. The arena once again erupted in sound.

"I should think that no lass would even try to catch Dwalin's attention!" Aire had to lean a little closer to Dis to be heard, as the noise now seemed seven times louder than before.

"Yet each year he will receive a gift or three on Durin's Day. The younger lasses do hope to catch his eye."

"No wonder he seems to hate the celebrations so much!"

Aire returned her attentions to the fighting in time to see Thorin take a swing at Gloin's neck. The blade didn't come close to its target as Gloin tucked and ran towards Thorin with the intent of knocking him to the ground. A well-timed elbow from Dwalin ensured that Gloin's face hit the sand.

Bagíl launched at Dwalin's back, but the Captain managed to sidestep and block. Bagíl turned quickly and the two grappled in the sand for a few moments. Gloin looked as though he was trying to help his partner, but Thorin was ensuring that he couldn't stay on his feet for more than a few seconds.

A painful 'ooooh' echoed round the room as Dwalin's elbow connected forcefully with Bagíl's stomach. The dwarf doubled over and Dwalin flipped him easily onto the ground, swinging his axe so that the blade rested just above his neck. With a somewhat pissed look, Bagíl raised his hands in defeat. Dwalin turned to face Thorin in time to catch a wave of sand in the face from where Gloin was scuffing his boots.

There was shouting and name-calling from the crowd, but as Gloin hadn't seemed to have done such a thing on purpose, the fight was allowed to continue. Dwalin muttered something to Thorin and then stepped from the arena to have the sand washed from his eyes by one of the healers on the side lines.

Thorin allowed Gloin to regain his footing and the two stepped apart to opposite sides of the circle.

This time it was Gloin who moved first thundering across the sand toward Thorin, only to swerve at the last second. Thorin struggled to regain his footing momentarily, as Orcrist continued to fall through the air without actually hitting anything.

Gloin saw an opportunity and raised his axe to swing at the back of Thorin's neck. Without looking up the King threw himself forwards with a speed Aire had seen only once before, sending Gloin stumbling just as he had once done. This time Thorin used his momentum to get to his feet and, maintaining his unusual speed, he turned and knocked Gloin to the ground, bringing Orcrist down to rest on his throat.

The arena exploded with noise and dwarves all around Aire were jumping to their feet.

"I've never seen my brother move so quickly!" Dis cried over the noise as she applauded her brother's win. Next to her Fili and Kili were jumping up and down like dwarflings, punching their fists in the air.

"I've only seen him do that once before." Aire admitted, struggling to keep a now-squirming Tharin on her lap. Dis looked like she might as Aire 'when?', but upon seeing her nephew getting so over excited she swooped in into her arms.

Thorin helped Gloin to his feet and the two bowed to the crowd before making their way to their families. Fili and Kili leapt forwards to clap their uncle on the shoulders and Dis flashed him a winning smile.

"Well fought." Aire congratulated him as he dropped his forehead onto hers. He was covered in a layer of sweat and breathing heavily, but he still managed a smile.

The volume of the crown may have increased several decibels when Thorin leant down to kiss Aire properly, but she wasn't sure. He placed a hand on the small of her back when they broke apart, reaching across to ruffle Tharin's hair with his other hand.

The arena was starting to empty again, with dwarves shouting merrily to each other. Many of them would likely be heading to the taverns as he evening was now upon them, but the Royal Family made their way up the mountain to the Royal Wing. Thorin excused himself and left to scrub the sweat from his skin. Fili, Kili, Dis, Aire headed towards the library, where the two eldest princes set about making a fire.

Dis and Aire settled themselves into the chairs, the future queen angling herself so that she could feed Tharin without exposing herself to anyone. Dis waited patiently for Aire to finished before she asked: "When did you see my brother move so quickly?"

Aire raised an eyebrow.

"In the arena earlier." Dis elaborated. "Everyone else seemed rather surprised, but not you. Where have you seen such a thing before?"

Aire glanced down at Tharin, shifting him so that he was comfortable and his lids were starting to droop. "I suppose I could tell a story. It's one from the battle.

This brought Fili and Kili tottering over. It also brought Ori, who had appeared at some point during the last half an hour, along with Dwalin and Balin. Thorin was still missing.

"You'll have to forgive my storytelling." Aire smiled apologetically. "I've never really been one for elaboration." Her small but captive audience settled in around her and she sighed. "It was hardly an hour after the war had broken out and orcs had flooded the city of Dale. I'd been told to stay put in a room within the town, after events that are probably best not mentioned but everyone knows about anyway."

Thorin chose that moment to walk in through the library doors. He was meat by a death glare from his sister. "What have I missed?"

"Story telling." Dis smiled in a dangerously sweet way. The King tried, and failed, to not flinch.

Aire quickly spoke up, drawing the majority of the attention back to herself. "I had planned on staying in the room for a little while, but dear Cärc appeared carrying a certain ring from a certain fool of a dwarf. I made a decision and left the two elves in my company, Linwë and Telrúnya, in the room.

Cärc led me into the battle, where I was fortunate enough to come across Tauriel, Captain of the Elven Guard of Mirkwood. She kept me alive and led me through the battle when I lost sight of Cärc." Aire chuckled at the memory of that moment, remembering one of Dain's men racing past, a warg hot on his heels, and three dwarves hot on its hide, like something from a play.

"The further we got into the battle, the more difficult it became to navigate the bodies. Tauriel, of course, had no difficulty in her navigation. I, on the other hand, had a little more trouble. We became separated, no thanks to a rabid warg. By the time I realised that my elf-guide was missing, she had been replaced with one of the fattest goblins I have ever had the misfortune of coming across. It was as though he had been thrown in a pond and left there for a month.

"How the beastly thing was able to hold its club I will never know, but it did and it seemed rather keen on the idea of beheading me. Everything happened very so quickly and there was no chance of me either moving or hitting it first. I'm afraid to say that I froze and surrendered myself in those few seconds. I won't share my thoughts with you, but I'm sure many of you can imagine them.

"I distinctly remember a sea of grey and leather, composed entirely of men, elves and orcs. Quite where Thorin came from I don't know, but he appeared and, with the speed we saw earlier, he connected his shoulder with my side. Prince Legolas disposed of the goblin whilst Thorin moved on from cracking my ribs and moved on to suffocating me instead."

Aire hadn't realised that Ori had been scribbling away until she paused to take a breath. "Hear something you like?" she asked the young scribe, who began to blush furiously.

"All good stories should be recorded." He muttered, quill slowing on the page but not stopping completely.

"Well, I daresay that you can tell it better than I. Perhaps I will tell you the whole of my story one day. I'd like to see how you work it with your skill. You might make it sound interesting!"

Ori paused in his writing long enough to resemble a glowing tomato before returning to his work.

"I don't think I cracked your ribs." Thorin huffed, folding his arms and pointedly ignoring his sister's looks.

"I'll take the word of a healer over yours on that matter!" Aire laughed, shifting a sleeping Tharin her arms.

Thorin frowned. "No one told me that you cracked your ribs."

"Yes, well, to be fair, you were out like a light for the majority of the healing period. Your wounds far surpassed mine anyway." Thorin's brow furrowed into one of his trademark scowls. "Come now, it was hardly your fault!"

"That remains to be seen." Dis muttered. "I'm sure my brother will pay dearly for his actions one day."

"It was not my intention to cause family rifts tonight." Aire sighed. "Perhaps one of you could tell me the plans for tomorrow?"

"Stately walks through the mountain." Fili answers quickly. "Quick look at the excessively large market, few comments here and there and we all look like one big, happy family."

"You make it sound like we aren't already." Thorin said lowly.

Fili grinned "We might not be by the time 'amad finished with you!"