I drew in a sharp breath. "What?"

Oin glanced up at me, before continuing to read on the next page. "Fall of 2941. Three days after the Battle of Five Armies. After some debate, it was decided the Arkenstone would not be buried with the King and Princes. Thorin, Fili, and Kili were laid to rest in the shadow of King Thròr's statue." A hint of emotion entered Oin's voice, and he paused to clear his throat. "After attempting in vain to destroy the dragon egg via hacking, crushing, and burning, what remains of Thorin's company debated for hours. Our conclusion is to build a cage in which to put the egg until we can learn how to destroy it."

I looked to Dwalin, having a hard time believing any of this. He gave a single nod of confirmation.

Oin straightened and turned to the shelf. He pulled another, smaller book from the collection and opened it up to the middle. "Summer of the year 2965. The key to the dragon's Mithril cage has gone missing."

Silence fell over the room. My mind whirled, trying to process. Finally, I said, "Let me get this straight. There's a dragon egg...in Erebor."

"It hatched," Dwalin corrected soberly. "Smaug's offspring is even more ferocious and bitter than her father."

My stomach sank. "And the key is missing."

Oin nodded. "Aye. If that key ever falls into unfriendly hands, and they learn of its use...we're right back where we started with Smaug."

"But worse," Dwalin stated. "The dragon hates us. She wouldn't just drive us out. She would incinerate every last Dwarf and probably Dale as well."

"So you see," Oin concluded softly, "Thorin Stonehelm and Daìn Ironfoot aren't our primary concern."

Dwalin nodded. "If we don't get that key back...there won't be an Erebor left."

* * *

Dwalin led me down the corridor to the old home I used to share with Dìs. His hand rested on the door knob, but he hesitated. "Amariel...I should have told you before now, but I didn't feel it was the right time."

I chuckled tensely. "Careful Dwalin...it could be dangerous, admitting you feel anything at all."

He scoffed at my poke. "I try, on occasion." Looking at me, he sighed and said, "Dìs passed away, about three months ago. It hit us all pretty hard."

I crossed my arms over my stomach and looked away. I wasn't surprised...but it felt like a piece of my chest had been ripped out. I swallowed hard and nodded once. "Thanks for telling me," I said quietly.

Dwalin nodded and opened the door, then stepped back to let me in.

I walked into my childhood home, looking around as the memories flooded my head. The living room floor, where I used to play with my toys. The stool that Dìs would have me sit on when she combed and braided my hair. The wood stove I'd burned my hands on countless times. Everything looked exactly the same, like Dìs had left for Dale this morning to do some shopping.

"Dwalin," I choked out, "could I have some time alone?"

"Of course, lass. I'll gather the Court; you need to be presented as soon as possible."

I nodded, waiting until I heard the door close and Dwalin's heavy footsteps retreat down the hallway. Then I fell apart.

A sob racked through me, and I sank to my knees. I felt so completely alone and vulnerable. I didn't feel like a queen; I felt like a little girl that had lost everything that ever mattered.

But after a couple of minutes, I sighed and wiped away my tears. I had made my decision, and I would not back out now. I would be Queen of Erebor, whether I felt the part or not.

I needed something other than travel gear to wear, so I stood and went into Dìs's room. It still smelled like her, and I had to bite my lip to avoid dissolving into tears again. I opened up her wardrobe and began looking through her dresses. Several of them, I remembered vividly, and pulled out to try on. But the skirts were too short, and the middle was far too wide. The farther back I dug, though, the less I recognized the dresses, and the smaller they were around the girth.

I pulled out one dress that I'd never seen before. It was a smoky brown in color, and longer and narrower than the others. When I tried it on, it wasn't as ungainly as Dìs's other dresses. Clearly, I would have to get some dresses tailor-made. But for now, this would do.

I went over to Dìs's vanity table and sat down, looking at myself in the mirror. I scarcely even recognized myself. With a deep sigh, I picked up her comb and continued the lifelong endeavor to make my hair appear presentable.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Dwalin led me to the throne room of Erebor. Thròr's throne stood tall and empty on its platform, while below, eleven chairs circled a table. All but one of those chairs were occupied.

Dwalin cleared his throat and said gruffly, "I present to the Court of Erebor, Amariel, grand-niece of Thorin Oakenshield." And he sat down, leaving me standing under the scrutiny of critical eyes.

A heavy silence settled in, and finally, I said, "Good evening." My voice echoed, its shrill tone mocking me. Good evening, good evening, good evening. I took a deep breath to steady myself. "I am Amariel, daughter of Kili, nephew of Thorin. Oakenshield." None of them so much as blinked. I sighed and said, "As the only heir to Thorin's line, I have come to claim the throne of Erebor."

A loaded pause. Then Bombur said, "You said that decades ago, lass, but ye ran away only a few years later. What makes that any different from now?"

I looked him in the eye. "With all due respect, at that time I was merely reciting words I'd been taught, caring nothing for Erebor or its people."

"And you do now?" Bombur challenged.

"Yes. I do."

Bofur spoke up next. "Do ye know what ye're getting into, lass? Ye'll be stepping into a heapin' mass of politics."

"And dragon fire," I added with a wry smile.

Startled glances went around the table, most of them landing on Dwalin. He shrugged. "She had to know."

"Then ye know that the key is missing," Bofur said, looking back to me. "And that, at any moment, the dragon could be released and Erebor incinerated. Because, you see, Imrid doesn't want gold, like her father did. She wants revenge."

"For what?" I asked quietly.

Another uncomfortable silence. Finally, Dwalin spoke. "While attempting to kill Smaug, we used his fire to light the bellows, hoping we could burn him to death in liquid gold. We failed—but we learned that dragon fire can keep a bellows hot like no other."

I groaned. "Please tell me this isn't going the direction I think it is..."

Dwalin nodded. "It was foolishness. And I am as guilty as the rest. But we fixed Imrid's head in the door and whipped her soft scales to make her heat the bellows."

I closed my eyes and sighed. "Let me guess. You can't open the door without releasing her, and you can't kill her with only her head poking out."

Bofur nodded. "That's the long and short of it."

"Have you tried starving her?" I asked. Might as well be thorough.

"Aye," Ori said miserably. "We can't exactly feed her without being the meal ourselves. It's stunted her growth, but that's all."

"Well," I said quietly, "we have a couple of things working in our favor. One, anyone who attempts to release Imrid will be killed. Hands down. Which will highly discourage any individual from attempting to release her. Secondly, anyone smart enough to steal the key from the vault would be smart enough not to turn something as dangerous as that dragon out into the world."

Nods went around the table.

"Tell me," I said, "Do the Iron Hills Dwarves know anything about Imrid?"

"No," Dwalin answered. "We fear they may try to harness its power to use in war."

I huffed. "They have no sense, do they?" I muttered. Rhetorical question, obviously. "Alright, back to the key. Do we have any idea who has it?"

Uncomfortable glances were exchanged.

"Specifically, no," Ori said. "But we have noticed quite a bit of Elvish activity in Dale."

I shook my head. "Dale's population is very diverse, and we are Mirkwood's closest trade partner. I would be more concerned if they never showed their faces."

The Dwarves began murmuring amongst themselves, discussing my declaration. Suddenly Dori burst out, "Of course she's protecting them! She's half pointy-ears herself!" The Court erupted in arguments and incoherent yelling.

Dwalin stood. "SILENCE!!"

The noise ceased so quickly, we listened to the echoes bounce around for several seconds.

"I raised the child," Dwalin said gruffly. "Not as a father, but as a teacher. I am not blinded by sentiment or affection; I see clearly Amariel's strengths and weaknesses. And while she prefers the company of the Elves, she is not one of them. Erebor is the only home she's ever had. I speak without doubt when I say she would do nothing to hurt us."

A long pause. Then Bombur said, "She should prove herself. Thorin went above and beyond, proving his loyalty to Erebor."

A chorus of "aye" went around the table, and Bofur said, "If she can return the key safely to us, then we'll crown her as Queen of Erebor."

The Dwarves nodded, murmuring their assent. Dwalin looked to me. "Do you agree to these terms?"

I considered for a moment, then answered. "No." I looked around at the Dwarves. "I will return the key safely to your hands, but only if you crown me first."

The Dwarves began grumbling angrily, and even Dwalin looked upset. "And why is that?" he snapped.

"Because you need me," I answered smoothly. "The key is missing, Thorin Stonehelm and Dàin Ironfoot are coming to take control, and you have no way to stop either disaster from happening. Except to make me Queen."

Glances were exchanged, and after a couple of moments, Dwalin looked at me and said, "We will need to discuss this matter. You may return to your quarters. I will inform you when we have reached a decision."

I nodded, not surprised, but kicking myself for not outright expecting this. Of course they wouldn't just give in to my requests! I was breaking all the rules; I could consider myself lucky if they agreed at all.

I bowed to the Court, and strode out of the room. I walked down the hallway as quickly as I could without breaking into a run, and didn't stop until I reached Granny Dìs's room. I closed the door behind me and sat down in the living room sofa, sighing. Now all I had to do was wait.