Chapter Four: Traditions and Preparations
Wrought iron gates stood open in the central plaza of the Iron Hill's primary hall and seat of power for Lord Dáin. The iron was shaped into a large symbol of Durin's folk and was intertwined with the hammer and anvil of Mahal. Each side of the gates had the symbols surrounded by a geometric border.
Within was the high-see of Mahal. This particular see was the great IronHaven. One of only a few surviving holy sites.
Dwarves of all stations and wealth traveled in and out of those gates. Many were on pilgrimage to the see, seeking guidance with Mahal. Some stayed for years as they waited for their answers. Others came and went like a migratory flock of birds. Whole groups of dwarrow traveled their entire days between the holy sites, living as nomadic merchants as they seeked their answers from the creator.
Fíli moved with purpose, dressed as the prince he had never felt like. Times had changed, life was never going to be the same. He had known it would eventually occur but he had not been prepared for it to happen so soon.
Now he was deciding the fate of his people with uncle indisposed. It was his duty to follow the traditions as he prepared for the scouting trip. The first and, the most important to many, was to seek guidance and ask for blessing from Mahal.
He took care to never flatter as he traversed the famed nine hundred and ninety-four steps to the inner sanctum. Dwarrow slowed and stopped to take in the magnificent carvings that told their creation story in the Stonefoot tradition and perspective. Many though, paused at the sight of him. Expressions of shock and bewilderment crossed many dwarrow as they realized they were walking alongside the heir of the Longbeards.
The blond didn't give any the chance to recover from their shock. He didn't need to deal with them at the moment. He wasn't convinced anyone would follow the expected edicate within a see and leave him be.
Every seven steps there was a large landing with benches and kneeler pillows before a major carved creation scene. Fíli passed them all with barely a glance. One day, he would return and have a proper mediation of the master pieces.
Right now, he had duties to attend to.
The inner sanctum was filled with geometric carved pillars that vanished into the dark as they supported a hidden ceiling. Candles lit the places with halos of golden light reflected off wrought iron stands. More benches and kneeler pillows dotted the expansive room. Many thousand dwarrow could stand shoulder to shoulder within the place, not that so many would be allowed at once.
Fíli's every step echoed out, mingling with the constant chanting of the seven monks holding vigil over the sanctum. Each wore robes in the color of each dwarven clan. Sapphire blue for Longbeards, ruby red for Firebeards, emerald green for Broadbeams, beryl gray for Ironfists, citrine yellow for Stiffbeards, onyx black for Blacklocks, and topaz brown for Stonefoots.
They sat or knelt in a circle around the Great Anvil in the center of the sanctum. The Hearth Lantern hung above it, filled with vibrant flames. The lantern was crafted from mithril, as all the ancient lanterns were held within the holy sites were. Diamonds reflected from the lantern, gleaming with the fire's golden light and the mithrils reflected silver.
He couldn't help but pause as the alter came into view. Such mastery of silver would have caused him to pause no matter the situation. And it was mithril. He had never seen so much mithril in one place before, certainly not for a single creation.
Fíli slowly walked the final few yards to the central rows of benches and pillows, and knelt besides the monk representing the Longbeard clan. He took a few proper minutes to appreciate the workmanship of the lantern and anvil. Both were covered is careful designs. Masterworks of pure artistry. He could mediate upon them, as was right in reverence to Mahal.
He was not here as a pilgrim, though. So Fíli turned to what he was there for. He joined in to the chant and, once he had the rhythm, ruminated upon the scouting party and Erebor. Eyes locked onto the material representation of Mahal as he called for guidance and a blessing. Slowly he fell into a meditative state. The world faded from his attention. All that mattered was the embrace of Mahal.
Glóin and Óin were waiting for him as he left the sanctum. They were dressed with care, bearing their weapons with the symbolic ties for peace and honor secured to each handle or stave. They were here as his honor guard.
Balin must have sent them. He wasn't supposed to go out in public without a guard. There was probably some rule he had forgotten about going to a see with a honor guard.
Fíli carefully withheld his impulsive reaction and snap at his comrades. He was glad he had done so when multiple lords of the Iron Hills, and beyond, rose from their supposed mediation of the creation scene at the first landing. A good hundred eyes locked onto his form as he descended the seven steps to the landing.
A dwarf dressed in the holy robes of the head monk, followed by seven within the robes of the clans, joined Fíli in his descent. None of the monks spoke, as was expected for such a visit. It would have been inappropriate since Fíli was supposed to slowly leave his meditative state by visiting each creation scene once more. No one complained as he left with the stride of purpose he had used entering.
He had gotten what he had needed. Fíli knew who would travel with him of his company. The blond had a good idea what to expect. The Arkenstone was of some importance to the land which meant there would be some type of damage because of its destruction. He had a distinct idea he'd know what the Arkenstone's power had been if he could speak with Llorabell.
That wasn't going to happen anytime soon but it did tell him one important fact. The Arkenstone, the heart of the mountain, was crafted by Mahal when their creator shaped the world at the beginning of all things. It was within the realm of nature — something the dwarrow race had never fully understood outside of molding it to their desire. That meant they would tread with care.
It also meant the presence of a stone sensitive dwarf would be imperative.
A messenger was waiting outside the see's gates. Fíli offered the appropriate thanks to the head monk, who had bent into a deep bow waiting for Fíli to acknowledge him. Then he turned to the messenger.
Said dwarf also bowed deeply as he announced, "Lord Dáin wishes to meet with you over dinner this eve', your Highness."
Fíli slowly nodded. He still needed to speak with the others to learn about his cousin but he had time before dinner. "I accept."
The messenger bowed again. "I will be by to guide you to the correct room."
"Very well," Fíli said, feeling awkward, "thank you."
With a third bow, the messenger near flew from the courtyard.
Fíli followed his example and stroud from the area. There was a large crowd staring at him. It parted for him and his companions but it could have been a entirely different situation. Neither Glóin nor Óin would have been much protection from such a large crowd if they turned into a mob.
Perhaps there was good reason for a few of the rules he had always scoffed at.
"What were you thinking?" demanded Balin as Fíli entered the house he and the other healed members of his company shared, "Of all the foolish, stupid things to do, you go off clear as day as Prince of Erebor and you didn't take a single guard!"
Fíli flicked his eyes at Balin but ignored him as he took in the rest of the company present in the large sitting area. Of the healed members, only Dwalin was missing. "Having a meeting?"
Balin frowned at the blond's lack of response but answered, "We need to decide who is going on the scouting party and I've been reviewing all the various nobles feeling out a possible marriage with you."
"I'm not marrying any of them."
The elder huffed. "There won't be a marriage immediately. You'll have to meet the ladies of the proper position once your back. Court the few with potential and personality you feel acceptable. Then, in a few years tim–"
Fíli pivated to face Balin and snapped, "I have a wife."
The white haired dwarf gawked and sputtered in surprise.
A short round of claps came from some of the other dwarves in the room. Fíli glanced back and found Bofur grinning. "Here, here. The lad's right; he's gotten a pretty lass already. No need ta make things strange by claiming otherwise."
"We all know that they are married," agreed Dori who was giving Balin a less than pleased look.
"Wait a min!" snapped Glóin, "We cannot have a bleeding hobbit as a princess! She knows nothing on how to handle the position and duties."
"It's called teaching her," sniffed out Nori.
"Oh, now ya want them to be together?!" cried Glóin.
Nori scoffed back, "I'll be watching and if he doesn't take care of her proper, I'll make sure she knows her options."
Dori turned onto his brother with a snap, "You'll do no such thing!"
"They are not married," Balin shouted out over the ruckus as the Ri brothers fell into an argument.
"I am married to her," Fíli countered, "L–Bilbo is my wife. It's obvious that Hobbit bonds are more permanent than any contract. So — I. Am. Married. I don't care that Bilbo said she wouldn't force me or that we didn't have to be married. She is my One and I will gladly accept the consequences of our actions and claim her as my wife. Anyway, Thorin gave his blessing."
Silence.
Horror was written across Balin's face. Glóin gave a short nod of understanding. The rest all looked decidedly pleased — Nori admittedly looked slight pained and resigned but that might be because of Dori's strangling grip on his tunic.
"As for who will be traveling with me," Fíli continued, "Bofur, are you able to travel?"
The hated dwarf slumped. "No, lad. Not long distance yet."
Fíli nodded, he had expected that. "Then it's Bombur, Dori, and Glóin. Any issues with that?"
"I can't," Dori announced, "Someone has to keep an eye on Ori and I've guild matters that have cropped up. The Eastern Glassblower guild has requested meetings since I'm here. I've already agreed to them...It's not something I should cancel."
The blond sighed, his eyes flicked closed for a second. That left Dwalin or…
"When are we leaving?" asked Nori, also coming to the same conclusion.
"Can you handle this on your limp?" Fíli asked as he attempted to find some excuse to leave Nori here. A small part of him had hoped to continue the scouting on toward Llorabell, depending on how close she felt. Fíli didn't want Nori anywhere near Llor until after he had the chance to speak with her properly.
"Limps gone."
"What?" snapped Dori as he rounded onto Nori once more, "You were limping a few minutes ago!"
The thief rolled his eyes at his brother. "It's called faking."
Fíli shook his head and turned to Balin. The scholar looked displeased but that wasn't Fíli's problem. "What do you know about Dáin? I've dinner with him in a few hours."
Balin turned thoughtful. "Dáin has always been a reasonable lord to work with. He's cousins with us, as you know. That said, he has rarely left his seat of power. And when he has, it has never been for long...The loss of Erebor damaged the stability of his family's power. I believe he will support us where he can but I would not expect the support to go far. He will likely know which nobles he doesn't want us tying ourselves to though it's debatable whether what he wants is in alignment with us."
"So treat him with the care of any other noble with unknown desires," Fíli offered as he settled into a seat.
"I wouldn't say that," Dori remarked, "We can guess at his desires: Power and stability. Anyone with ambition wants some type of power. And only a fool doesn't want stability when they've already in possession of some power."
Fíli leaned back and considered that. "The Kingship?"
"He is in line for it," Balin stated, "but he had never shown any interest in it."
"There was nothing to be interested in," Óin nearly shouted out, "Dáin was a wee laddie when we lost Erebor. Just like the rest of us. By the time he came into power, Erebor was Smaug's. Now is different, though."
"You think he'll try something?" Fíli asked.
"I don't believe he'll try to kill ya," Óin answered, "but he may try to tie his family even closer ta the line. He's not near as close in line with ya and Kíli."
"And we're back to marriage," Fíli sighed out.
"Aye," Glóin agreed, "but none know you aren't available, meaning all the focus is on ya when it should be on Kíli. Say nothing and Kíli will be left alone on the marriage front."
"It will make is easier for when Kíli takes over here," Balin reluctantly agreed, "One less angle we need to worry about would be good."
"But once I'm gone, Kíli is their only option."
"Yes, but they'll still focus on you for the marriage," Balin explained, "They'll try to use Kíli to point you to the female they want you to marry...Some might take the opportunity to introduce Kíli to the various lasses also but the dams would be ordered not to attempt anything with the spare. You are the bigger catch."
"It's honestly a good way for Kíli to meet the ladies," Bofur remarked, "Who knows, maybe one is his One."
"Perhaps," Fíli agreed, dubious of the possibility.
"Just don't promise anything, lad," Balin added, giving Fíli the recommendation once more.
Beams of sunlight filtered through a variety of green and blue crystals to softly illuminate a garden of mushrooms and algies that hugged the edge's of the private courtyard. Short wrought iron fencing wrapped around the various plots of plants and a mix of metal and stone sculptures rose in strategic places to reflect or fracture the soft light. A decorative stream with multiple tiny waterfalls flowed through the main section of the garden. A scattering of bats fluttered by, through the stalactites. The peaceful trickle of the stream muffled the stamping of dwarven feet.
It was a beautiful setting for a dinner.
At the center of the courtyard, near one fantastic little waterfall, was a stone table set for dinner. Dáin was already there, standing arm in arm with a dwarrowdam — she had to be the Lady of the Iron Hills. Fíli attempted to recall Dáin's wife's name but came up blank. That wasn't entirely surprising. It was traditionally considered improper to discuss a dwarrowdam outside the protective walls of a mountain hall. Compound that to the fact that he had never had a proper discussion on Dáin left it clear that he had never learned her name.
Two others stood in the courtyard. The male was a miniature Dáin, but brunet. The female had Dáin's coloring but looked more similar to his wife.
Dáin turned and spotted Fíli. "Lad!" he beamed as he waved Fíli over and insisted, "Come meet my wife and children."
Fíli continued over and offered a polite bow to the family. "Good evening."
"My wife, Jytte."
Jytte swept down into a curtsy. She was a few years younger than Dáin, or she was wearing her age better — a common sign of a dwarrow with longer life expectancy than their spouse. She was a brunette with her hair braided up into an intricate net. He beads for marriage, children, clan, and craft were proudly placed. She was a jeweler. And she was of Longbeard descent. That meant Dáin's children were more Longbeard than anything.
If they weren't Ones, even though both bore their marriage beads within braids pronouncing that they were, then the blood status of the children gave them a better position to inherit Erebor and the throne. It was a cynical thought. Balin's words and actions made it blatant that it was a possibility, though.
"My son Thorin," Dáin continued cheerfully, "Ya should have seen yer uncle's face when I told him!"
Jytte smacked Dáin's arm even as the young Thorin looked resigned. "Hush, you can embarrass Thorin after he has a proper chance to meet his cousins!"
Fíli couldn't stop the faint grin. Perhaps he didn't have to worry too much. He offered a hand to his distant cousin. The brunet accepted, clasping Fíli's forearm, with a cheerful grin.
The younger Thorin had pale gray eyes, brown hair, and his mother's slightly browned skin. Beads of apprenticeship for swordmanship gleamed in his various braids. A warrior by craft, not just tradition, was rare. There weren't many dwarves that had an activity instead of an act of creation as a craft but it was no less honored. It also usually led to a secondary craft the dwarrow pursued from a need to keep busy when they couldn't pursue their actual craft.
Thorin was young enough that he likely hadn't had a chance to find that secondary craft. Of course, Fíli had learned early on of his two crafts. It varied by person.
"And last, but not least by any imagination, my sweet little ruby. Ulla." rambled Dáin. He clearly adored his daughter. Something entirely, completely normal of any father blessed with a dam.
Ulla followed her mother's actions by sinking into a polite curtsy. Her flaming red hair glittered with every possible family bead a dwarrow could wear. He couldn't spy a crafting bead and braid but she was clearly young. If he had to guess, Ulla wasn't yet old enough to apprentice for a craft. The faint hint of curves hinted that she wasn't too far from the age though. Probably another eight, ten years till half the kingdom would attempt to claim her heart.
Luckily she was too close in relations to Fíli and Kíli. She wouldn't be the dam Dáin would try to entangle them with. Hopefully.
"It's good to meet you all," Fíli said as Ulla rose from her curtsy.
"We've should have had a family meal years ago," Dáin stated as he waved towards the table, "but distance was a concern. Won't be for long, eh?"
"That is the hope, " Fíli agreed.
"It will be good to have the Longbeard clan returned properly," Jytte said as she settled into her seat, "Long have fools tried to claim rights not theirs to have."
Dáin snorted. "Damn Blacklocks."
"Let's not," complained Ulla, "I want to hear about the Blue Mountains!"
"What would you like to know?" Fíli asked in bemusement, "It's another mountain range. Looks similar to the Iron Hills to be honest."
She huffed as she flopped back in her seat and folded her arms as she announced, "You're no fun! There has to be more than that !"
"It has been a decent home but it is no Erebor," Fíli offered, "There are pines a thousand covering the face of the mountains. The primary ore is iron. Just as it is here...I suppose there is also the granite mines."
She lit up at that. "I've heard of the Blue Mountain granite! It's veined and speckled with blue, isn't it?"
Fíli nodded. "Yes, the best granite has a sky blue coloring amongst soft cream or white. Most are a more cloudy blue, almost a gray instead."
"What's the plan for the scouting trip?" Thorin interrupted.
"Nadad!"
The young dwarf rolled his eyes at his sister. "You can bother one of the company members left here.–" He turned to Fíli. "–There is a member of your company that could answer her millions of questions, yes?"
"Kíli, perhaps?" asked Jytte.
Fíli grimaced. "Eh, Kíli might not be the best option...Ori would be better but he's in the healing halls along with Kíli. So you might find them together."
"See?" Thorin said as he turned back to his pouting sister, "You have two poor souls trapped in bed to bother."
"Thorin, be nice," huffed Jytte.
Fíli struggled to keep a straight face. The entire statement was fine, except he kept fighting the instinctive reaction to look for uncle. That led to him connecting the statement to Thorin, the older Thorin, and it was entirely wrong. No one told uncle off for something like this.
The table fell silent for a moment. Servers swept in with the first course. A creamy soup with mushrooms and a dusting of golden power was across the top — Fíli assumed it was some excotic spice. A small basket of rye rolls and a small dish of sweet butter were placed before each person. Smell of yeast and fresh bread filled the room as the servers left.
"On the scouting," Dáin said, smoothly claiming the conversation away from his arguing children, "I have decided on my representatives. My son has been part of the scouts and guards of the Iron Hills for the last ten years. Thorin will be going with ya."
Fíli stared. He spoke slowly, not wanting to insult his cousins but also feeling he had to bring it up. "We will be going extremely close to Erebor."
"If something happens to me," Thorin stated, understanding Fíli's implications, "Ulla will be heir."
"Of course," Fíli agreed. His mother ruled for uncle most of the year after all but if Ulla married the wrong dwarf, it could mean loss of control. That was something he should care about, if they regained Erebor and the younger Thorin was killed. Of course, it could lead to Kíli taking over the Iron Hills...and now he sounded like Balin with all the political maneuvering. He turned back to Dáin. "And the other?"
"Haip is one of three with stone sense," Dáin stated, "She has agreed to go."
"She?" Fíli repeated with sudden, strangled horror.
"She's my niece," Jytte said proudly, "A good lass, about your age in fact."
And there it was. This Haip was the dwarrowdam they wanted him to marry. And she was, Mahal bedamned, going with him.
"And we aren't concerned about taking a lass on the scouting party because?" Fíli demanded.
Jytte beamed. "Nice of you to care for her but she has been traveling most of her life. My brother is a merchant by trade and took to the pilgrim route the moment he was old enough. Met his wife in the East. Haip know's how to handle herself. Always has."
"Ya need someone with 'abanizûghel and she's the best option," Dáin added with a final note to his voice.
Fíli raised a brow and countered anyway, "A woman with stone sense should be protected–"
"See her agree to that," grumbled Thorin.
"You just don't like that she talks back to you!" Ulla said sweetly, all teeth at her brother.
Thorin scowled at her. "You need to stop hanging out with her! She's a terrible influence."
"I think she's an excellent influence," Jytte interrupted the budding argument with practiced ease. The two siblings clearly rubbed each other the wrong way, on purpose. Fíli had the sudden relief that he had no sister to deal with. Llorabell was going to be plenty.
"I see," Fíli finally said, "Well then, we'll be headed out in two days time. Will Thorin–" He glanced at his younger cousin. Thorin straightened under Fíli's gaze and met Fíli's stare with a steady one of his own. Fíli nodded and turned back to Dáin. "–and Haip be ready?"
"Of course," Dáin answered boisterously.
"There will be a meeting tomorrow afternoon with the scouting party," Fíli said with minor resignation coloring his voice, "they are required to attend."
"Excellent," Jytte said before she waved her hand up, "Now let us enjoy dinner."
Servants swept in and traded the empty soup bowls and bread baskets for platter's of well seasoned game. The rest of the dinner was filled primarily by Ulla proncouncing her pleasures and complaints of various studies she was in the middle of. Thorin would interrupt whenever he felt it too boring with some story of his own.
It was, in the end, a family meal. Fíli found himself liking his distant kin, no matter the concern in the back of his mind about them plotting against him. The entire experience was oddly comfortable once the business side had completed. There were plenty of people missing but it worked all the same.
Fíli was busy in the most inane ways the next day. He had no idea where the time went but it seemed one minute he was going over supplies with Bombur and the next the scouting meeting was about to begin.
Bofur cheerfully announced the Iron Hill representatives to the party. Young Thorin stamped in cheerful but quieter than his father. Haip entered silently but her very presence was announcement enough.
"Afternoon," Thorin greeted. He held out a hand to the closest dwarrow, Glóin, and announced, "Thorin son of Dáin."
"Eh?" Glóin startled at that fact even as he clasped forearms with the lad.
Haip nodded to Glóin, not offering a hand as was proper of a unwed and unrelated lass. The majority of the company took a double take on Thorin and a triple take on Haip. No one had expected Dáin's son and heir nor a female to join the party.
Fíli took a moment to take her in as the two newcomers made the rounds. Deep brown, almost obsidian like skin, swallowed the firelight. Black hair was weaved into thousands of tiny braids, then braided together into larger braids that weaved into a tight net that sagged with the weight of all her hair at the back of her neck. Black braids were braided from ear to chin, taking all her delicate facial hair to frame her face. Her eyes jumped out against her dark skin. They were green, a dark, deep green like the green in the marble that covered most of Erebor.
She was the exact opposite of Llorabell but no less beautiful. And yet, Haip was not for him. She was not his One.
He already felt bad having her joining when nothing would come of it.
"Haip," she introduced herself with a calm, self assured voice as she reached Fíli, "your Highness."
Fíli gave a brisk nod back. "Good to have you." His eyes jumped to Thorin with a nod to include him in the statement. He caught the sight of Balin's frown but ignored it. So maybe he should have warned them about Haip. They'll survive. He had needed the time to come to terms with having a female join them, when said female was likely going to attempt to pursue him.
At least they knew she was female this time.
He pulled the meeting to order and gave a quick rundown of the plan. A short, somewhat limited scope of the companies abilities were offered. Nori had more skills than scouting and knife work, Bombur was more than just a chef, Glóin had skills with multiple weapons not just his preferred axes, but there was no need to explain that fact. Then he requested details on the new comrade's abilities. They responded in a similar, simple rundown.
"My primary weapon is the sword," Thorin answered, "I'm here as the scout. I have over a decade of experience traveling over the Iron Hills and slightly less of the land between here and Erebor." With that he turned to Haip.
At the glance, Haip spoke up, "I'm here because of my stone sense but I've traveled all my life. I know these lands, near the trading routes, about as well as Thorin–" Thorin snorted but didn't disagree. "–My primary weapon is the crossbow. At close range, I've my bill."
"Excellent," Fíli said as he stood and closed the meeting out, "we'll be following your–" At this Fíli nodded at Thorin. "–direction on the best routes to Erebor. Any questions?"
The rest of the dwarrow rose with various negative responses. It was a basic scouting mission. The side aspect of finding Bifur didn't need to come up until they were actually there.
Fíli flicked his gaze to Haip as he considered bringing up the Arkenstone to her but withheld the thought. He didn't know who knew the stone had been destroyed. If it wasn't a commonly known fact, then he could imagine the dung pile he'd fall into bringing it up now.
Laughter filtered out of the healing room Kíli was still inhabiting. Fíli slowed as he heard a vaguely familiar voice. Ulla was seated in a chair beside's Kíli's bed. Ori was seated besides her, bright red. Thorin, the younger, stood scowling over at his sister. Haip and Kíli were laughing their heads off.
Fíli flicked his gaze to an unknown dwarrowdam standing to the side. The dark skinned lady looked resigned. Her armor and weapons implied she was a guard. Probably Ulla's personal protection.
She was the one to notice him. Instead of the expected bowing and simpering, she gave him a short, curt nod. Fíli, deciding he liked the woman, nodded back and quietly settled beside her.
"You can't leave it there!" cried Kíli, still distracted by whatever ridiculous story had gotten him laughing, "What did Thorin do?"
"Well–"
"Ulla!" interrupted Thorin, his face turning red.
She grinned impishly at him. "But nadad, it's the first time you met your One. I have to tell!"
The guard woman snorted besides Fíli as the two Iron Hill siblings fell into bickering.
"That entertaining?" Fíli asked quietly.
Her dark eyes flicked over to Fíli and her professional expression cracked with a faint smirk. "Lad kept mixing his words every which way. Ended up telling the poor lass that he liked her sword and she should buy her eyes — she was considering purchasing a axe at the time and didn't have a sword on her person at all."
Fíli grinned. "How terrible."
"Aye," she agreed before she held out a hand, "Haria, Ulla's right hand."
Fíli clasped her forearm as he accepted the woman's decision to ignore noble property. Haip hadn't offered her hand because it wasn't proper but it wasn't the same with Haria. She was neither a noble, as far as Fíli could tell, nor was she presented as a female. She was present as a guard and protector which meant she was a comrade-in-arms.
It was nice to be reminded of simpler times, that there were still people that didn't require the parade of tradition.
"Fee, when the bloody hell did you get here?" demanded Kíli.
The rest of the room's occupants turned towards him.
"He's been here for the last few minutes," Haip answered, amusement coloring her voice.
Fíli paused at that. He frowned over at her as he tried to determine how she had noticed. He couldn't recall her noticing.
She explained with a shrug, "The feel of the stones change as people walk over them."
"Her 'abanizûghel strongest seen in generations," Haria remarked.
Haip rolled her eyes. "Yes and everyone always trying to bribe me because of it. At least I finally get to do something interesting.–" She turned back towards Kíli. "–What is Erebor like?"
Kíli offered a crooked smile before he dived into an explanation. Fíli stared at his little brother, unable to keep his eyebrows from raising as Kíli spoke poetically about the lonely mountain. "It's a sight to see, m'Lady. Veins of deep green travel through the marble used for the vast majority of the halls and courtyards–"
Fíli shook his head and found himself sharing a look with his male cousin. Thorin looked bemused, his gray eyes jumped from Haip to Kíli and back. Fíli looked over to Ulla as a round of giggles filtered from her spot. The red head was giggling all cute like into her hand as a red faced Ori continued to explain something, likely about the Blue mountains.
"What the bleeding hell?" muttered Thorin, having noticed his sister also. He shook his head. "Thank Mahal I'll not be around to deal with that."
"I'll inform Lady Jytte," Haria assured the horrified looking dwarf.
Thorin shook his head again and, grabbing Fíli, stomped out of the room while muttering about puppy love. The younger Thorin took Fíli to the closest pub and they ended comparing horror stories about their little siblings.
Fíli thanked Mahal, once again, over Kíli being male. He would have gone gray or bald like Dwalin if Kíli had been female. He was surprised his cousin wasn't more stressed after all the antics of his baby sister.
The next morning Fíli took a few minutes to attempt to meet with Thorin but his uncle was asleep, something that apparently eluded him most days. So Fíli went to see Kíli as he had originally planned yesterday.
His little brother needed a short rundown of what Fíli had noticed with all the nobles and political agendas. He frowned as he realized this had to include Balin's and the apparent expectation to marry politically. Their parents should have warned them years ago.
"Salvation!"
Fíli stilled as he entered and stared as Kíli.
"Fee, you have to break me out!" Kíli continued with clear desperation written across his face, "I'll go hang out with uncle...or I can go with you on the scouting trip!" His brown eyes lit up. "Haip was telling me about the northern lights. She's been to the Gray Mountain and that isn't all that far fro–"
"Kíli," Fíli interrupted, "I'm not going against Óin's orders. He'd lock me back in bed if I did."
Kíli flopped back against his pillows with a pout. "You're leaving today, aren't you?"
"Yes," Fíli closed the door and claimed a chair. "Kíli...you need to be careful. Everyone wants a piece of us. They want to force us to marry so they have power in Erebor and some likely want us dead so Dáin might take the throne."
Kíli's pout faded into a serious expression. "Balin's been by...and Nori."
"Nori?" Fíli asked in confusion, "I understand Balin. He was probably attempting to convince you to accept marrying some random dwarrowdam bu–"
"Oh he was and I told him I'd consider it," Kíli answered.
Fíli stiffened. "Kíl–"
"You've Bilbo. She is your One," Kíli explained, "I–" He hesitated for a moment, dark eyes jumped to the door and then back to Fíli. "I think you realized it a while ago, long before I did...I don't think my One is a dwarrowdam. She isn't a hobbit either." The dark haired dwarf tilted his head and offered a sad sort of smile.
"When did you realize?" Fíli asked quietly.
His little brother shrugged. "I acted really, really dumb in Rivendell...The woman there felt a little more...right, I guess." Kíli turned to stare up at the ceiling. "A dwarf with an elven One doesn't happen."
Fíli attempted to counter but couldn't think of what to say.
"But that is alright," Kíli said, "I don't...I don't know if I could accept such a One. Everything elves did to us, to our families and our people...it's not right and I don't know if I could handle being tied to one because of that — especially since, with their long lives, my One might have been involved." Kíli shook his head and turned back to Fíli with a faint grin. "Haip could work."
"Don't decided something like this after a single meeting," Fíli countered drily.
"So says the one that got high and fucked his One, marrying her , right after finding out she was a she," Kíli snarked back.
Fíli's faced turned vibrant red. "What was Nori doing here?"
Kíli smirked but didn't fight the topic change. "He came by to give me a rundown on all the dwarrowdams I'll be meeting and their families. He's confirmed Dáin's less hostile position against us also."
"Seriously?" Fíli couldn't keep the slight pout from appearing. "He hasn't said a word to me...Is that all he said?"
"Ah, no...He talked to me about Ones and marrying someone that wasn't and all that. He helped me put some things in perspective," Kíli hesitated, his voice dropped to almost a whisper, "Did you know that Dori, Nori, and Ori all have different fathers? Each of the dwarves claimed Nori's mother had been their One and she fell for each of them...and each of them up and left soon after she became pregnant. I think that is why he's been there for Bilbo. He doesn't want something like that to happen if he can help it. It probably helps that he gets on with her."
Fíli paused at that. That did put a different perspective on Nori's actions. "You think his One is a hobbit also?"
"Ah, yes...possibly," Kíli agreed with a hint of surprise at the question, "Suppose you should take him with you to the Shire in that case."
He sighed. Fíli had hoped to keep Nori away from Llorabell but he couldn't now, not when it would give the dwarf a chance to find his own One. And really, he could probably use the help in protecting Llor.
"Will you be alright?"
Kíli grinned as he answered, "Yes. I'm not the idiot running off to an orc infested mountain, anyway."
"You're just stuck in a rat infested one," Fíli countered dryly before he rose, "Hold down the fort then."
"Ya, ya," Kíli waved his hand about as if waving the statement away, "Keep an eye on my wife. Think of it as returning the favor!"
"You aren't married yet!" Fíli snipped out before he left with a helpless shake of his head. He hopped Kíli knew what he was doing. This was something Fíli couldn't help him with as much as he would like to.
His small scouting team was waiting at the large entrance to the hall. There was no fanfare — Fíli had given some misdirection on when exactly they were leaving. Dáin had been made aware of the plan and has simple laugh and demanded a proper drink before they left. With the party all dressed for travel and battle, no one noticed exactly who was leaving the mountain.
A few mishaps occurred but all of book one and two have been updated with chapters with updated grammar (no promises that I found it all). I apologize for that but here's the new chapter. (Sorry for posting it on A03, like, a month ago and just realizing it wasn't on here.)
