Disclaimer: I do not own any material in this story, except for OCs. Middle Earth belongs to Tolkien :) Please keep in mind that the goal of this story is mainly to illustrate the lives of these original characters!
This story is one of my own creation, closely following Tolkien's lore prior to the events of the Fellowship of the Ring. The events will more so follow the Hobbit movie adaptations, including the relationship between Kili and Tauriel, and having Kili, Fili, and Thorin survive the BofTFA (because we all know they only died to fill in a stinking loophole).
Please feel free to comment on or help correct inconsistencies with the lore, as I won't claim to be an expert. :)
OCs x OCs small amounts of Kili x Tauriel, though mostly of my (and my borrowed) characters.
This story is rated M for later swearing, crudeness, some descriptive gore in later chapters, and sexual intimacy in later chapters.
[This chapter is rated K+]
Chapter 1: Old Wounds, New Scars
Nights within the mountains were never quiet.
Then again, neither were the dwarves that dwelled beneath them. The bustle and flow of Durin's Folk deep within their halls was a never ending affair, dwarves running to and fro at all hours of the day, running messages, delivering parcels and the like. Much unlike the kingdoms of elves or men, peace and quiet were luxuries, though the dwarves did not mind. They reveled in the comradery of their people, valuing song and drink and friends far more than their wealth and treasure, much contrary to the conceptions of the other races.
That is why when Erebor fell, it was the darkest day for the dwarves of that mountain. It was one thing to loose their riches, and another altogether to lose a home.
And so after the great dragon Smaug claimed the Lonely Mountain for his own, the dwarves of Erebor sought other homes. Some in the East, toward the Iron Hills north of Rhun, finding shelter among the clan Longbeard. Others looked West, past the once green Mirkwood, to the furthermost reaches of Arnor, and went into the Blue Mountains.
But the dwarves of Erebor did rebuild their home, and in time, built their grand halls and forges again, seeking solace in their newfound refuge. Time passed, and it soon came that only the eldest of their people remembered the grand halls of Erebor. But they could not forget, and for those that knew her, would never forget.
And the day then came, when chance intertwined with fate, and Thorin, son of Thrain, the rightful King under the mountain, took back the mountain once again. Not met with fanfare, not met with song, he and his kin fought the great dragon Smaug, throwing his ruin into the brackish waters of Laketown, leaving him to lay with the muck and rocks and worms. But their quest was not done, for they fought a greater foe in defense of their home; Azog the Defiler and his army of orcs spilled forth from the depths under the mountains, bringing swords and death upon them. Only with help from King Dain of the Iron Hills, and Lord Thranduil of the Woodland Realm did they defeat those armies, but not without cost or casualty. Thorin, dealt a great blow, was thought to die.
But as Mahal would have it, he and his nephews were spared that day, and it was known throughout all of Middle Earth that the King had reclaimed the mountain.
It was not long before those in the Blue Mountians knew of the success of Thorin's company, and on the day the first raven arrived from Erebor, hope was restored to all of Durin's Folk. Talk began of their return, and some were sent to the aid of the new King, swearing ,again, the fealty of the dwarven realms, and in time, the dwarves returned. They rebuilt the great halls, the forges, the miles and miles of passages destroyed by war and dragon fire, and the Lonely Mountain became the jewel of Middle Earth once more.
2958 of the Third Age- 17 years after the Battle of the Five Armies, and reclamation of Erebor
"I've told you fifteen times Gholi, you've got to stop grabbing her arse every time you see her." The dwarf turned to his cousin Gholi, still cradling his stinging cheek in his palm, who was much glad that the brunt of the slap he had received was dulled by his beard. Face hurting, but his pride no more diminished, he laughed, and ignored the warning.
"Aye, you've told me, but I'll gladly do it again if the price is no more than her gentle caress." The dwarf rolled his eyes. "Do it many times more and she'll deck you proper, and no amount of beard will cover that nasty bruise, and no amount of ale will mend your dear, poor, broken heart." Laughing, Gholi tossed a number of crumbs at his cousin, no more swayed than before.
"And aren't you just the expert in these matters, Tholi? You wouldn't know a tit if it flew right in front of your face!" Tholi choked on his ale, nearly spitting it all onto the table in front of him, amused at his friend's crude remark. Wiping the drink from his chin, and finally finding the air to reply he clasped Gholi on the shoulder.
"Well after seeing yours for so many years I think I've had quite enough practice!"
Expecting his cousins reaction to his quip, Tholi quickly ran from the table, dodging his cousin's swipe, mockingly bowing before disappearing from the western hall as fast as his legs would take him with Gholi not far behind.
The two had been arguing like this for years, waging their small battles of wit over women and warfare. He bounded down flight after flight of steps, laughing all the way, gaining the occasional raised brow from those dwarves he passed on his way down. Even though there were many dwarves now in Erebor, he and his cousin were notorious troublemakers, often seen running from each other for fear of friendly consequence. On some days it seemed Tholi's reputation as a premiere huntsman and tracker were overshadowed by their charades.
The way they fought, they were often confused as twin brothers, considering that they had similar names and all, and may as well have been since Gholi was raised by Osk, Tholi's father, after his father's death as a child, and his own kin were slain in battle near twenty years before. Tholi began to slow his pace, ducking behind a large gilded column marking the entrance to the forge.
Panting, he slumped down onto the stone beneath him, still smiling after the chase. Gholi you fat fool, I bet you stopped chasing me after twenty steps. He ran a hand through his dark curls, fumbling to remove all traces of crumbs from his hair and braids, running the course of his braid at the back of his head, then through his curt goatee, finding a few stragglers.
Satisfied with his grooming, he stood and stretched his arms above him, still aching from his earlier shift in the smithy. Might as well stay here for awhile. Mahal knows he'll be waiting for me to get back, already stuffing my mattress with eggs I bet.
He passed through the archway of the forge, and made sure to admire the sheer mass of the room as he did every time he arrived. To the left, large crucibles filled with all sorts of raw minerals and molten ores smoked steadily in the dimmed light, largely unattended in the late hour of the evening. To the right lay the still twisted bars leading to the hall where Thorin and his companions had fled from Smaug the terrible. No one had bothered to render the large steel beams to their original state, as they considered it to be a reminder of the sacrifice it took to reclaim the mountain.
Tholi turned from them, and continued on his way toward the far side of the room. While he would never think ill of Erebor, he had always failed to see why it was so magnificent in the eyes of those who remembered its former days. Sure, he could not deny that it was well crafted, with the finest architecture and care into its halls, but he had never felt like it was home. Not in the same sense as the other dwarves. His father, mother, cousin, and kin were all here, so surely that must have been enough to curb his uneasiness of the place. But more often than not he missed the Blue Mountains and their acres of forest, the hunts he and Gholi would have for days much to the dismay of his mother, Dás.
Sighing at his melancholy thoughts, he reached the doors to the smithy proper, and pushed them open, going to a small section laid with rough cut swords, axes, and daggers, near a grindstone, hoping to work through the bulk of the weapons before dawn came. Sitting down, he went to work. He found solace in the spark and groan of the metal against the solid rock of the grindstone, the menial work lulling his mind into a blank state with its repetitive, rough song. He often came here after hours were done to find peace in its solitude, something many dwarves would have found distasteful.
Used to the din of the metal sharpening, Tholi immediately heard the footsteps quietly approaching in the distance.
Not many often come here at this hour, let alone to this portion of the forge. Something is odd.
Curious, and the footsteps rounding the corner to his place, Tholi laid the axe he had been sharpening behind him.
"Lord Kili, by Mahal what are you doing in the forge at this hour?" He said surprised, rising from the grindstone, clasping his fist on his chest, and humbling himself to one knee.
"Oh don't you start with this 'Lord Kili' business Tholi, I don't need one more person showering me with honorifics." Kili replied, smirking in the dim light. "And if you're going to try flattering me don't follow it up by cursing and ruining your attempt at respect, dóh"
Smiling at his usual silliness, Tholi rose. "After the last time I addressed you improperly I thought my father was going to rip my ear off. I rather like my ears." He laughed. "Quite useful for hearing strangers sneaking up to you in the wee hours of the night." Kili returned his outburst with a breathy chuckle, and Tholi noticed that his friend's eyes looked tired in the flickering light. "So then, joking aside, I would like to know why you came to find me."
"Walk with me now. I cannot tell you more while others may be listening."
Confused, Tholi followed nonetheless. "And what way would we be going . . . ?" Kili looked toward Tholi over his shoulder. "To the King's hall. There is something there of which we need your help."
"Mine? It sounds like you need a healer more than a smith."
"That, my friend, has been handled well enough. We need you to do something a small bit, er . . . different."
And that was the last that Kili let on, walking the rest of the length in silence, save for his slightly labored breath while climbing the flights back toward the King's hall, Tholi knowing it was his leg still troubling him after all the years.
Reaching their destination, Kili paused before opening the great oaken door leading to one of the private chambers of the passage. Inside, Tholi could detect muffled voices, all nervously whispering to each other.
"You must promise me that before you set foot in this room, you will speak none of this to your father or cousin. Especially your cousin." He was met with no hesitation.
"Whatever importance this is, you have my word that no one will know of it." Kili gave a thankful nod at his willingness, and slowly opened the door, letting Tholi go in alone.
Stepping over the threshold, Tholi looked to the other dwarves filling the small chamber, recognizing the faces of few. Noticing his entrance, they turned to him with a strange skepticism on their faces. "I was called here by Kili."
Emerging from behind the throng, Fili, Kili's brother, came toward him with a small cloth parcel in his hand.
"Tholi, I am going to skip normal courtesy and arrive at the point of this." He said, unwrapping the binding from whatever he was holding. The distance still being closed between them, Tholi was beginning to see the long, slender shape of what appeared to be a dagger, small flecks of blood staining the closest wrappings. "The third watch was ambushed near Dale. We haven't been able to figure much besides who the assailants were."
Still not recognizing how he could be involved in this, Tholi turned his gaze toward the bed, now seeing a shape lying on what once were white sheets. "Is he alive?"
Fili waited a moment, seeming to consider the situation. "Yes, though he will not last the night."
Feeling sorrow toward his situation, he turned back to Fili who had begun to uncover the final layer of the dagger.
"We found this stuck deep in his stomach." He said, handing the dagger to Tholi. "An orcish blade. One of which we haven't seen for some time now."
Tholi turned the blade over in his hands, glossed with a ruddy sheen over its blackened steel. Looking at the blade made bile form in his throat. "Not since the battle for the mountain, I'd suppose," he said somberly, realizing the gravity of the situation. If orcs were beginning to come back to the grey mountains, they would have more than one company of dead dwarves on their hands.
"What has the north watch said of this?"
Fili shook his head. "Nothing. This is the first sign of any renewed trouble, and we fear that it may not be the last." Gesturing to take back the blade, Fili returned the blade to its wrappings. "Tholi, King Thorin has tasked me with finding the most skilled tracker that we have, to find this group of orc or follow them to wherever they are coming from."
"Aye, and I suppose I'm the one you've thought of." Tholi said. In honesty, he was excited by this. Aware of the danger of what Fili was asking him, yes, but he couldn't deny that the thought of running through the trees, over the rocks and hills in pursuit of the orcs . . . it was a very welcome departure from his accustomed life in the mountain.
"Yes, you are. Growing up with Kili in the Blue Mountains, no one could move more quietly or quickly than you could." Fili said, clasping Tholi on the shoulder. "I would task you with this if I didn't think you could return unharmed."
Tholi smirked, returning Fili's gesture. "Don't worry, if I come back with a single scratch you'll never let me live it down." The two laughed, and sat down to discuss the logistics of Tholi's journey, and with each passing breath, he became more anxious to depart from Erebor.
Thank you everyone who took the time to read this first chapter! Posts will be regular, and don't be shy to tell me what you think about the characters, or if you see something wrong with inconsistencies in the lore! Until next time!