"Gondor?" The opinion was offered hesitantly, as if the speaker wasn't sure of his own guess.
Legolas tightened his lips, peering out the dirty window of the ferry waiting area at the trio of young campers out where they weren't supposed to be. Finally, he shook his head. He did not have to ask whom his new friend was talking about. Faramir had already admitted to being Boromir's younger sibling. And the nervous looking one wore braids, clearly demonstrating his allegiances. But the brunet with was a mystery. "Not tall enough for Gondor I would hazard to guess. Are you sure he's not from Erebor stock like you? Then again, for your nationality he's actually a little tall."
Fili shrugged unhappily and didn't bother to comment on the jibe about his height. Those from Ereborean stock were huskier of build than say Rohan or Gondor, but shorter generally. "No braids. And he's younger than we are, it could be that he's just not had his growth spurt yet. He could be from Gondor."
"Doesn't move like someone from Rohan." Legolas mused aloud, his eyes speculative.
"I've never met anyone from Rohan before." Fili admitted quietly, his frown sharpening as he saw the trio wait for traffic to clear before starting to trot across the street. "Do they even know that man?"
"Man?" Legolas snorted rather haughtily. "He looks more like a troll to me."
Fili sniggered and shook his head. "Cruel." Though he didn't disagree.
The blond practitioner shrugged, mostly unrepentant. "If trolls were real, that's what they'd look like." Suddenly he stiffened. "Do trolls come in threes?"
Blue eyes moved immediately to the dilapidated building across the street, right where the three campers were heading. There were two more males standing there. Equally as huge and solidly built as the first one. "Forget trolls, they're giants."
"I don't like the look of this." Legolas shifted his weight uneasily, watching as the three laughing campers seemed to hesitate, possibly sensing wrong. "Don't do it, come back." He whispered, even though they couldn't hear him.
"We have to tell someone?" It was a question, not a statement.
The blond winced. "I've been here for five summers, you may depend upon my word that if we get a reputation for running to the counselors and telling on others? We'd be bad news."
Fili looked around, feeling antsy and wanting to DO something. The young brunet had annoyed him a little. A bit brash and maybe reckless. But he didn't want anyone to come to grief either, brat or not. He peered across the street as the one he was thinking about suddenly threw back his head and laughed easily at something said. That wild mirth made Fili's frown deepen as he grunted. "Definitely reckless. They're going in with them!" He clapped a hand on Legolas' shoulder.
Legolas turned and scanned the area. "All the adults are over there, dealing."
Fili followed the other blond's gaze, grimacing to see a crying young camper and a hand-cart turned over. Trunk spilt open and personal items everywhere. All attention was in that direction. The only one sitting close to them looked like a young, curly haired child curled up in his coat and taking a nap on the bench. "Damn."
Legolas rolled his shoulders. "Feel like bearding three trolls in their den and rescuing reckless fools?" He smiled dangerously.
"Are you unarmed?" Fili prodded, liking his new friend but still cautious. This was Thranduil's son after all.
"I'm a practitioner! That means I'm never unarmed, even when I have no weapons." Legolas winked, his smile turning into a smirk. "The camp wards keep me from using mystical stuff in here. But those wards don't expand out past the ferry areas."
"You have offensive magics?" Fili asked, his blue eyes widening in appreciation. He was under the impression that only very high level practitioners could do such things.
Legolas suddenly deflated with a self-depreciating grin replacing his arrogance. "No. Not yet. But I can distract really well!" He leaned in to whisper. "And I go nowhere unarmed." He patted his side in a manner suggesting he had something sheathed there.
Weapons were prohibited at Camp Imladris, except for those provided for their activities. Nothing could be brought from home.
That was the way it was supposed to be anyway.
Fili grinned, winked back and simply said. "Let's go rescue the fools." It was his way of saying that he wasn't unarmed either. He didn't bother patting his weapons though. There were too many. Being of Erebor meant he had enemies. Being of Erebor had once been mighty and wondrous, but that was before Smaug. Before exile. He'd been raised in Britain, and felt at home there. But Fili never forgot his true place, even if he'd never seen it before.
The taller boy nodded happily, then shook his head. "They might not actually need rescuing you realize?"
"They're still fools and shouldn't have left." Fili grunted, eyes scanning the area. No adults watching them. He cocked his head to the side and made a gesture for silence, pointing at the sleeping child close to them. Both blonds carefully made their way out the smaller side door with the broken latch.
From tolerably near their area which the two blonds had just vacated, there was a scritch of a sound. A coat moved slightly and two bright eyes blinked open from where their owner had closed them for a pleasant little cat-nap while waiting for the local ferry.
The man was on the smallish side. Childlike and almost tiny in comparison to …well, most everyone else. His features were pleasant and jovial looking, hiding a highly intelligent mind. But he was definitely no juvenile.
He sighed. His highly intelligent mind was telling him to mind his own business. "This isn't on you." He muttered to himself. Still, he was standing before he knew it, straightening his waistcoat and patting every pocket to assure himself that everything was in order. His fingers absently straightened his handkerchief.
Being in order was very important to Mr. Baggins. Bilbo Baggins of …. "Oh drat it all." The short fellow murmured. He was having difficulties naming his new home. Thinking of his comfortable abode and it's very full pantry culled a smile from his lips.
Camp Imladris was located on an island, taking most of the property. The locals called it Rivendell though, always had it seemed.
Bilbo wasn't a local.
His new home had been won, er …stolen, from someone. Someone who had stolen from a lot of other people. So Bilbo had freed it, and many other things. He'd turned over most of it back to the rightful owners, taking a large percentage of profit, of course. He was the grandson of the brilliant and slippery, never-caught Great Took. Still. Of all he'd acquired, that single property had held no records of who had owned it previously and Bilbo, upon inspecting the place, had simply fallen in love.
Since he already had it, he might as well just keep it. It's what proper burglars did, wasn't it?
Rivendell or Imladris, whatever you called it …called to him on a very basic level. It was peace. It was home. It was …still unnamed. "Drat and double drat." Bilbo sniffed and looked for his shoes. Where had the blasted things gone? He looked up and out the window, seeing the two conspiring blond tow-heads hurrying across the street against the lights.
No help for it. He slipped barefoot out the side door. Unseen. He was good at unseen.
Bilbo shook his head mentally, wondering why he was going to rescue five silly teenagers. Awful things, teens. In his experience no one was even slightly interesting until they turned thirty-three at the very least. Old enough to garner some life experiences, and young enough to still do something about it. And yet these youths appealed to something in him. The two blonds had proven to be protective minded at the very least, if a bit reckless. Though not as reckless as the original three, going off with a stranger like that.
Bilbo turned and looked back inside the ferry waiting area. He was supposed to have met Gandalf here. But the tall headmaster had his own sense of time that the world did not seem to recognize.
"Fool." Bilbo muttered, wondering if he was describing Gandalf or the teens. Most likely, he mused a bit sardonically as he crossed the street, himself.
o.o.o.o.o
o.o.o.o.o
"This doesn't smell like a café." Faramir said hesitantly, obviously nervous.
Kili nodded, his hand moving into a silent hand signal to be on alert. Ori signaled he understood. The young teen from Gondor did not. The brunet kept his expression light, although inwardly he was cursing. "I think we need to get back before we're missed." He said with a bright laugh.
"What about your phone call young master?" Asked Tom genially.
"I'm fine. I was just being a bit silly." Kili spread his hands as he stopped shy of entering the run-down premises. "Homesick already, can you believe?" He asked rhetorically.
Tom's eyes narrowed and his jovial expression turned sinister. "No." He obviously had some moves on him, for he didn't reach for either Kili or Ori, but grabbed the youngest.
To his credit Faramir made no sound, nor did he freeze up. The youth from Gondor reached back and jabbed his fingers instinctively at Tom's eyes. Shocked he might be, but he was obviously also well trained in defense.
Unfortunately, so was Tom. He growled, and kicked open the door of the building and all but threw young Faramir through to the interior.
Kili flashed another silent hand signal for Ori to get help, and his friend obeyed instantly. The young brunet tackled Tom around the knees, trying to bring the much heavier and taller opponent down and give his friend a chance to get away.
Eyes streaming from Faramir's attack, Tom reached down and grabbed a handful of Kili's dark hair, yanking him up painfully. Without regard to anything, the tall man started to drag the teen inside. He stumbled as Kili's hidden blade suddenly became un-hidden and sliced into his heavily muscled thigh.
With a shout, Tom threw Kili inside the building. The dark haired young male rolled and sprang up immediately, his eyes taking a second or two in order to adjust to the dim lighting after being outside in the afternoon sunlight.
What he saw made him pale.
Faramir was being held suspended in the air between two men even bigger than Tom! He gritted his teeth and attacked, darting forward with his blade.
"Stop, or we tear him in two."
Faramir's eyes were wide, but he still made not sound. His mouth was set grimly, but anger not fear shone from his eyes.
Kili froze in place. Hopefully Ori wouldn't be long in bringing aid. "Drop him or else!"
"Or else what?" One of the two giant-sized men sneered. Was this Bert or William? Kili snorted. As if that even mattered at this point.
Suddenly from behind him came the sound of something big hitting the floor. Kili's dark eyes widened as from either side of him came two blond blurs. He was quick to join in the attack, even as he recognized the two older campers from earlier. Worries he might have about them, but that was nothing compared to the immediate danger.
Blades flashed and blood dripped as William and Bert were forced into dropping young Faramir. The youth from Gondor was quick to retaliate, springing into action himself. The four of them weaved through the area looking to make a quick getaway.
As if on some silent internal cue, they ran toward the exit only to draw up short as Tom stood there, outline by the much brighter sunlight outside. Disconcertingly, he was grinning. He brought one large hand out and dropped a stone on the floor which immediately started glowing a sickly green.
Legolas ceased moving, staring in awe and even with a hint of fear. "Wards." He hissed, meaning that he could no longer work magic within the boundaries set up by the mystic wards that Tom had just activated. "And a spell of containment, the door is blocked now!"
"Well. You all belong to us now, and we're going to be handing you on to someone much, much darker. What he wants with you I couldn't even dare to guess."
"Which one of us?" Fili asked boldly.
Tom grinned evilly and shrugged, declining to answer. "Does it matter? We're sending you all on. He could filet and eat you for all we care."
"Spice you up with some nutmeg." One of his brothers quipped.
"Naw, Bill. Roasted with plain salt and pepper. You never season things up proper." The other brother spoke up in a surprisingly high voice for one so large.
Kili's mouth dropped open in disgust.
Fili yelled out something harsh in Khuzdul without thinking, telling the younger boys not to be tricked by foolishness and calling them idiots.
Faramir and Legolas both didn't even blink, although the blond's mouth tightened. "I assume you realize we don't understand you!"
Fili flushed while the young brunet sent him a withering glare of disdain, taking offense.
"Now, now. The killing may be easy enough, but if you don't do it in the proper manner it ruins the taste of the meat."
The calm, collected voice startled them all. Everyone spun, staring at the diminutive male who had somehow come in the back way and appeared the very picture of sanguine languidness.
"Who be you?" Tom demanded roughly.
The stranger blinked slowly, then tutted his tongue and shook his head as if monstrously saddened. "If your grammar skills are as fine as your culinary skills I lament for your meals, you must truly be horrid chefs."
The broadest of the three huffed and groaned in confusion. "Huh?"
"He says you can't cook, Bert."
Bert, for apparently the broadest of them was he, seemed hurt by the comment. His hand went to his heart, inadvertently smearing blood from a shallow cut that Kili had managed to land. "Has him tried my cooking?"
"He." The stranger closed his eyes and shuddered. "Has HE tried my cooking?"
"Er …no. Don't think we're acquainted." Bert offered, still looking confused. "So I don't think I've had any of your cooking."
"Oh dear. Wasted wit is a lamentable thing. By the way, the door's not warded anymore. You boys scamper on back to the ferry now. Good lads. Don't want to worry the counselors." The strange little man said with a small smile.
Tom straightened, looking startled. He glanced down at the mystic ward he'd used. His eyes rounded with alarm to see that it was no longer glowing any color at all. "But …"
Bert growled, shaking his massive bald head. "Never you mind! Even without the ward Tom will be able to stop them from getting away!"
The stranger tossed something into the middle of the room, where it flashed with light. The three criminals froze. Stopping. Not moving at all, not even blinking.
Legolas goggled in wonder, waving his hand in front of Bill's eyes. "He might as well be made of stone!" He sounded a bit in awe.
"Something I picked up from a friend a long time ago thinking it might come in handy." The stranger made shooing movements at the boys, who finally started grinning.
Fili pushed on Tom's arm, but the big man didn't even look at him. He whistled.
"Now. I mean it. You need to run along now lads. Did I mention this little spell doesn't last but a minute?"
Faramir threw a wild look at their savior and then back at Kili, the two took off. A moment later, so did the two blonds.
o.o.o.o.o
o.o.o.o.o
Ori met them in the middle of the street, much to the consternation to the drivers trying to get to where they were going. He had Eomer and Boromir with him.
The two counselors looked at the young men and stopped, pulling them back toward the ferry area. Boromir laughed and ruffled his younger sibling's hair, telling him that adventures awaited them ON the island, not here in town.
Eomer looked suspiciously at Ori. "I thought you said they were in trouble?"
Legolas stepped forward quickly. "He was telling us we'd BE in trouble if we didn't come back."
Eomer pushed his long hair behind his ears, his eyes showing he had his doubts over that explanation but could see no way to say that without causing offense. "Is that true?" He asked Ori directly.
The teenager swallowed hard, but nodded gamely. "They left the area." He said, then shot a questioning glance over at Kili.
Fili was watching the building they'd just come from, wondering where the man who'd saved them had gone. Should they go back for him? He caught a vague movement from the corner of his eye, almost like the young brunet whose name he didn't even know knew Ereborean sign language. But when he focused in that direction, the dark-haired boy wasn't doing anything except trying to look innocent.
"Well let's all get back before anyone gets in trouble." Boromir grinned good-naturedly. At his side, Faramir relaxed with not a little bit of relief.
Fili rolled his eyes toward the building, looking at Legolas. The taller blond shook his head and lifted his chin back at the ferry area. When Fili turned to look, he saw their short statured rescuer calmly waving at them.
How? How had he gotten by them? What had happened to the three criminals? Were they still statues, or had it worn off by now?
"Come." Eomer said, as if that was the end of it.
The dark-haired brunet walked by him, still looking innocent as can be. Then as he passed he whispered. "Watch who you call an idiot, idiot."
Fili gritted his teeth and followed the rest of the group inside. He watched the trio they'd gone to rescue move back over to the far side of the waiting area.
Legolas walked up to him. "That was ….odd."
"A panic and a half." Retorted Fili, using slang to indicate it was all a big joke. Only no one was laughing.
"What'd the Gondor kid say to you?"
"Faramir? Nothing." Fili's blue eyes blinked and he rolled his shoulders.
"Naw. The other one. With the dark hair." Legolas clarified his question.
"Nothing, called me out for saying he was an idiot."
"When did you do that?" Legolas asked, confused. "I don't remember that."
Fili now froze, almost as still as the stone trolls they'd run from. He'd called the brunet an idiot alright. In Khuzdul. And the teen had understood him! "He's not from Gondor." He whispered.
Legolas nodded, then looked up with some relief as a horn sounded. "Ferry is arriving!"
"You sound too excited for a ferry arrival." Fili commented absently, his mind puzzling on how the brunet without any braids could possibly know anything about the Khuzdul language. It was not taught to outsiders, nor even really used in front of them. He flushed a bit, realizing he'd done just that.
"It's not the ferry I'm excited about." Legolas grinned. "It's her."
It took a moment, but Fili finally looked up. "Her?"
The blond reached out and touched his companion's chin and then pointing over toward the offices where the administrative work was done. A very pretty girl walked out with brownish-honey colored hair with soft curls escaping her braids and framing her heart-shaped face. Fili caught his breath, temporarily pushing aside all thoughts of bratty and reckless brunets who knew more than they should. "Oh."
"Sigrid." Legolas sighed happily, laughing at the snagged attention of his newest friend.