In this world, Balin had become king of Moria earlier than he had in the original work, so Moria's orcs and darkness were far fewer than they had been in history. On top of that, Roland had once brought Caslo along and swept Moria clean, and Moria's population at this point was far larger than it had been historically. Many dwarves who should originally have gone to the Lonely Mountain had been diverted to Moria instead. As a result, by the Celebrant River, everyone saw quite a few busy dwarves.
"Who are you?" a dwarf leaning on a hoe asked curiously.
"By Durin! Since when did dwarves stop carrying pickaxes and start carrying hoes?" Thorin stared at the farming dwarves before him, his face full of shock and helplessness.
"Calm down, Thorin!" Roland patted his shoulder to keep Thorin from frightening those dwarves.
"King Under the Mountain?" The dwarves froze, then all bent their knees in salute.
"Rise! My people! All of you, rise! No need for such ceremony!" Thorin hurried forward and helped them up.
"Your Majesty, why have you brought an army here?" one dwarf asked worriedly after seeing the massed troops behind them.
"Oh? We came to see Balin! It's been many years since we parted at the Lonely Mountain!" Thorin explained.
"That's right! To see whether that laughing old man is dead yet!" Roland joked.
"Who? Who's speaking ill of me?" Balin laughed loudly and came running out on his short little legs.
"Thank the heavens! My friend! You're not dead yet!" Roland greeted him with a smile.
"Of course! Welcome, our great Lord of the Northern Territory! King of Dragons... King of Lagrange—Roland!" Balin chanted Roland's long string of titles like scripture, finally letting his voice trail off while Roland's toes practically curled into the