A/N- I hate thinking of names for canon characters cuz it always make it feel like I'm making up my own OC... Research and asking around tumblr has proved that Tolkien never named Gloin's wife so everything in this chapter is mere speculation on the author's part. Thank Mahal for the movies or I would be completely making shit up appearance wise. Obviously, any character in this fic is meant to be younger than their LOTR canon counterparts, especially those characters that aren't human.

Anyway, enough of my blabber. Hope this is alright!

Gloin

It had been a month since he left Castle Black. The trek was long and tiresome and his horse grew less and less compliant as they went. But Gloin had refused an escort and took only as little provisions as he could. No one bothered him on the road, not even the hill men and he was all the more grateful for it.

"Warn those fools." The High Commander had told Gloin as he carefully wrapped the severed hand of the wight in some cloth. "Make them understand we need more men. We need supplies. We are scarce to protect the other castles on the wall. Make them see." Gloin was more than willing to try. And more than willing to go to King's Landing. He cared nothing for the King and less for his insanity but Gloin just wanted a few days in warm weather, sleeping on an actual bed and not having to worry about his toes freezing off during the night.

He was very close now and the weather had grown so warm that he was able to take off his thick fur cloak and bundle it up on top of his modest size bags of belongings and food. King's Landing was only a day's ride now and Gloin could scarcely conceal his relief. His horse seemed to have picked up the pace as well.

It was night time before the walls of King's Landing finally loomed above him, pale white and enormous. Gloin had been there only once before but even now, it took his breath away a little. Statues flanked his approach and Gloin could see the levels of the castle far ahead, each rising higher than the one above it. Even this late at night, people flowed through the gates, in and out of the city and no one looked twice at the Black Brother as he rode through them and into the main court of the city. Getting into the city was never the challenge. It was gaining an audience with the king.

Gloin grumbled and growled to himself but found an inn that would house him and a spot of his horse at the stables before taking a few hours to rest. He would have to wait till morning before any of the small council or the King would even consider hearing him out. But he sent a request with one of the guards and finally got himself a hot meal.

Sitting in the inn's common room and happily scarfing down freshly made stew and bread, Gloin took his time to look around. Noted all the faces, all the voices and grimaced slightly as the stew got into his magnificent beard. It may have been late, but the inn was alive with people and noise and Gloin just sat. And watched. He liked to watch and take mental notes. Especially of people breaking rules. Those were the people who inevitably wound up on the Wall with the likes of him. He scoffed into his stew and finished it quickly.

A serving maid cleaned a table nearby. Gloin watched her distractedly and let his thoughts wander. She was quite lovely, with long reddish copper hair, braided behind her and falling well to her waist line. Vows be damned, Gloin grouched internally and made it a point to at least talk to her before his stay in King's Landing was through. Who would know either way? He had no intention of marrying the woman. But she was a beauty...

Gloin remembered back to Castle Black, standing with Thorin at one end of the training yard and watching a new batch of recruits swat at each other with fake swords.

"Ye've never considered it?" Gloin asked incredulously. Thorin shrugged.

"I don't need any bastard children, Gloin. It wouldn't be easy for anyone."

Gloin considered. "But the comfort of a woman..." He paused. "Or a man, I guess, if yer into that sorta thing. And no bastard children from it." He added. Thorin looked at him blankly before shrugging again.

"I've just... never really considered it." He finished, a bit lamely and Gloin raised a bushy eyebrow at him. Thorin ignored the look. It didn't take Gloin any time to realize that the almost 40 year old might have still been struggling with just what exactly he wanted in a person before he had taken the Black. And the fact that might have wanted another man might have been a struggle in itself. Gloin wasn't about to judge. And it wasn't like their vows said anything about men. Bit of a gap, really.

Not that the gap related to Gloin much. He still liked women and all these years without a woman was making him feel a little batty. He wondered what this serving maid's name was. Something lovely, he was sure, to suit that hair and that face.

He must have been staring because she quirked an eyebrow at him and strolled off in a bit of a huff. Tomorrow then, Gloin decided, hefting himself from the bench. He'd talk to her tomorrow. Now, with his belly full, all he could think about was asleep. And when he did sleep, it was the most blissfully wonderful sleep in many a year.

The next morning was less productive than he had hoped. Before he was even able to head out of the inn, he was accosted by two Gold Cloaks and a messenger who loudly announced that the King would not be receiving an audience from anyone for a few days and the Small Council was otherwise predisposed.

"But this is important!" Gloin protested, bristling beneath his beard.

"Then I suppose you have no choice but to wait." Crooned the messenger. "His Grace has been most preoccupied these last few weeks and you are not the first to come here attempting an audience."

Gloin's eyebrows furrowed together. "This is no mere matter from some airheaded lord! This is a danger to all of the Seven Kingdoms and the faster I can gain an audience with His Grace, the faster we can resolve the issue." He said, rather loudly but the messenger smiled his oily, unpleasant smile.

"You're a Crow are you not? You should be used to waiting. So wait. His Grace cannot merely abandon important matters of state to meet with everyone who comes calling."

All of Gloin's arguing proved fruitless and the messenger simply repeated that same words over and over, wearing that same oily smile. It was all Gloin could do to keep himself from punching the man in the face. When he finally got a promise of a meeting in 4 days time, Gloin stumbled off to get a large mug of ale to drink himself silly, hours of the morning be damned.

It was on his 3rd tankard that the serving maid appeared into view, leaning on the counter as she cleaned it and quirking an eyebrow at him. "Bit early fer heavy drink, isn't it?" She asked with a bit of a laugh. Gloin grunted and chugged the rest of his ale.

"Bloody sods sittin' on their golden thrones and disregarding all tha's not them." He growled and she laughed again, the sound quite pleasant to Gloin's ears.

"If it means anything, the King's throne is iron." She shrugged easily and Gloin snorted.

"Aye, and made of melted swords." He grumbled while she filled his tankard again without even being asked. Slurring out his thanks, Gloin took a long sip, watching her over the rim of his mug. She moved with a certainty of any skilled craftsman and the grace of the most talented dancers. And Gloin was enchanted.

"So, Master Crow, 'tis quite a long hike from the Wall." She commented, eyebrow quirked. "Fleeing the cold, are we?"

Gloin snorted. "If I was fleein', I wouldn't 'ave gotten far before the Durins woulda chopped my head off fer breaking my vows. No, good lady." His expression darkened. "Somethin' evil is stirring beyond the wall. And we're spread too thin to cover all the Wall 'roperly." He slurred and shoved the tankard aside, bushy eyebrows furrowed together. She listened to him quietly, her own expression concerned.

"And His Grace will not see you?"

"Pshhhh too busy drinking and eating 'imself to an early grave, I'll wager." Gloin growled, making the serving maid laugh gently, shaking her head.

"You should be careful, sir Crow. He might have spies everywhere and words like that could cost your head." Gloin scoffed in reply.

"I don't owe him my allegiance. And who's to protect him when the White Walkers come. For come they will..." He saw her shiver and frown. Gloin patted her hand. "Fear not, good lady." He said kindly, hiccupping a little. "The men of the Watch are preparing as best we can."

"Oh that makes me feel better." She joked and Gloin barked out a laugh.

"Ah yes, the ever prestigious men of the Watch guarding humanity from the darkness." He guffawed before pulling his hand back and rubbing it through his beard. The woman laughed at that as well, hands landing on her hips.

"Well, sir Crow, the least I can do is offer you the hospitality of my inn for the next few days, seeing as you're some sorta life saver." She teased and as Gloin tried to shove money at her, she pushed it right back. "I insist." And there was that smile and that twinkle in her eyes and Gloin fell in love.

What a wonderful woman. Gloin smiled at her. "Thank ye, good lady." He said with a bow of his head, features relaxing. "I will never forget this kindness."

He saw her smirk. "Maybe later, sir Crow, we can talk over a meal." Gloin's eyebrows winged up again before he boomed with laughter.

"Ye waste no time."

"I have no time to waste. And I suspect, neither do you."

"Well," Gloin found himself saying, "ye can call my Gloin then, since we have no time fer formalities."

"Rona. Pleasure."

Vows be damned. The Gods were testing him and he was failing miserably. And he could care less.

Pleasure indeed.