Thanks so much for the reviews, favorites and follows! It's nice to know that the story is getting some views. Of course, I'd love to hear more from you all, especially those that have been reading but not reviewing.
In this chapter, we get a glimpse into Fili and Kili's life in Gondor, and they get a surprise visitor. Hope you enjoy it! At this point I expect the story to be about 6 chapters long, and there will probably be another short story or two set in the same universe.
Chapter 4
5 years later…
Dwalin sighed deeply as he took a seat behind his desk, depressed by the stacks of paperwork still littering the surface. Accepting the inevitable, he pulled one pile toward him, only to have his attention caught by a small piece of parchment folded neatly on top.
Curious, he unfolded it to find a few words written in what he immediately recognized as Nori's neat runes. He snorted to himself, the thief was surely well aware that Dwalin recognized his hand—he strongly suspected that Nori enjoyed demonstrating how easily he could enter and leave Dwalin's office in secret.
There were just five words on the parchment: Jafi and Naki, Minas Tirith.
His eyes widened in surprise; Fíli and Kíli had shown more initiative than he expected, to flee so far from home and kin. Dwalin refolded the parchment and tucked it carefully into an inside pocket of his tunic.
It was time to bring the lads home.
-ooo-
Kíli was dragged toward wakefulness when the warm body in his arms stirred. Recognizing the signs that his lover was about to get up, he clutched tighter and whined sleepily, "Aww, Fee, no, don't leave. It's too early."
Fíli chuckled and turned toward his brother, planting a soft kiss on his lips, "I have to, Kee. Prince Thengel is coming to pick up his blade this morning, and I want to make certain everything is ready."
"You finished it days ago," the brunet huffed. "You know it's ready."
"Humor me, love," Fíli said soothingly, his breath ghosting over Kíli's ear. "I promise I'll make it up to you tonight."
"You'd better!" Kíli retorted, reluctantly releasing his brother. Fíli laughed and stood, landing a brisk swat on the younger dwarf's backside, earning an outraged squawk from him. "Fee! If I weren't so tired, I'd…" he began, punctuating his claim with a yawn.
Fíli leaned close and kissed his temple, "That's what you always say, atamanel."
Kíli harrumphed to maintain his dignity, but fell asleep with a smile on his face.
Sometime later Kíli awoke and stretched, wondering whether Prince Thengel had arrived yet. After throwing on some clothes and raking his fingers through his hair (waking after his brother had the disadvantage that he had to tend to his hair himself) Kíli ambled into the kitchen. He smiled broadly to find that his brother had left out some breakfast for him.
When he clattered won the stairs to the forge a few minutes later, Kíli grinned at the sight before him. Two blond heads were bent over a shining blade, Fíli holding the sword and pointing out its features while Thengel looked on, eyes gleaming with excitement. The Rohirrim prince's hair was paler, straw colored to Fíli's gold, and he towered over the dwarf smith, but still, in spite of the differences Kíli had always felt there was a…kinship of sorts between the two. Certainly they had enjoyed each other's company since they had first been introduced by Lord Ecthelion, despite the fact that Thengel had no idea that Fíli was a prince in exile as well.
As Kíli neared them, Fíli offered the sword to Thengel, hilt first, with a smile and a small bow. The Rohir took the sword, his eyes alight and a smile on his face as well.
His smile widened when he saw Kíli. "Ah, Master Naki, it is good to see you again." He shook his head, "Your cousin has outdone himself! I expected a fine blade, but this…this is magnificent!"
Kíli glanced at his brother; Fíli's face was slightly flushed, embarrassment at the praise clearly at odds with his (entirely justifiable in his brother's opinion) pride in his handiwork.
Thengel murmured, "Such a fine, strong blade deserves a name to match it. I will have to think on it." Then he moved away from the two dwarves; far enough to try a few practice strokes.
An idea appeared fully formed in Kíli's mind, and determined to act on it, he remarked, "You must be eager to try out your blade with a worthy opponent, Prince Thengel."
"Aye, I am," Thengel answered with a huff of irritation. "But my father has commanded that I attend him in all haste and I am leaving this morning. That is why I called so early. I fear I will have to wait until I reach Edoras." He glanced up to meet Kíli's eyes and obviously recognized the hint of challenge there. "Unless you are offering, my friend."
Kíli shook his head, "I do well enough, but I am not the master swordsman here."
"Kee!" Fíli hissed in exasperation.
The dark-haired dwarf just grinned brightly and strolled over to the chest where he knew his brother kept his twin falchions. "How long has it been since you sparred against a taller opponent, Fee? It wouldn't do for you to get out of practice."
"If you can wield a sword with anything like the skill you can craft one, Master Jafi, I would be honored to cross blades with you," Prince Thengel said, bowing slightly.
After giving his brother a baleful look he replied politely, "Of course, my prince, I would be honored as well." He grabbed the double scabbard from the younger dwarf and drew out one of the blades. "We have a small practice ring in the back if you'd like to…"
In the meantime Thengel had approached Fíli and was gazing at the scabbard curiously. "A double sheath? I have never seen the like before." His eyes lit, "You use both swords in battle?"
"He certainly does," Kíli said with a grin, "I doubt you'll see a finer swordsman with twin blades in your lifetime."
Fíli reddened to the tips of his ears and shot his brother a glance that promised retribution later. Kíli knew full well that the blond had planned to use one blade only when sparring with Thengel, long arguing that his fighting style was too distinctive and that it might reveal their identities. The brunet understood his wariness, at least at first, but now thought he was being overly cautious. It had been five years, for Mahal's sake!
Kíli unsheathed the second blade and handed it to his brother, who took it reluctantly. "Here, Fee, I'm sure the Prince would prefer you not make it too easy for him," the brunet said with a chuckle.
"Indeed not!" Thengel agreed with a grin.
The older dwarf knew he was trapped, he could not refuse without it appearing peculiar and rude to their royal guest. "Of course," Fíli replied graciously—but not without a final glare at this brother—and led Thengel to a small courtyard behind the building, bounded on one side by an alley.
Shortly after the dwarves had moved in they had marked a sparring ring in the dirt of the yard behind the forge and began to practice there. At first, the sound of steel on steel was cause for some alarm among the nearby residents. But soon it was accepted as an interesting eccentricity of their dwarven neighbors, and indeed it was not unusual for a small crowd of onlookers to appear, hanging on the fence that bordered the yard as soon as the ring of steel could be heard.
Today was no different; soon after Thengel and Fíli strode into the ring, bowed and took their first tentative strokes, heads began to emerge from the windows overlooking the alley. Evidently word spread quickly that this bout was different than the usual matches between the dwarf cousins, and shortly the fence was lined with eager spectators. Kíli grinned to see money changing hands and ambled over to place a substantial bet on his 'cousin'.
In the ring, Thengel was still testing the defenses of the blond dwarf. Naki's praise of his cousin's skill had made the prince wary, but he was still confident he could prevail against an opponent so much smaller. However, when he pressed his attack, curious how Jafi would respond, he got much more than he bargained for.
For some reason the Rohirrim prince had always thought of dwarves as slow, heavy-footed creatures; now he realized he could not be more wrong. On the contrary, the dwarf was frighteningly fast, countering Thengel's attacks casually and advancing, braids flying and blades flashing. He was soon retreating across the ring desperately trying to evade Jafi's whirling blades. It was painfully apparent that he had seriously underestimated his opponent—Thengel had never seen anyone who could use twin blades with such skill. To his alarm, the prince found that not only that he was required to block two blades instead of one, but the dwarf's small stature meant that he must defend himself from attacks well below what he was accustomed to.
Thengel quickly understood that letting the dwarf engage him closely was not to his advantage. Instead, he retreated enough to use his much greater reach to keep the smith at arm's length. He met Jafi's blue eyes and received a smile in return; Béma curse him, he wasn't the least winded!
They warily circled one another for a time, neither able to prevail. Thengel knew that he must take the initiative if he wished to defeat the dwarf, but was reluctant to close with him again. The matter was decided when what started as an unremarkable exchange of blows was followed by a lightning quick move from Jafi that brought him under Thengel's guard. Sensing that defeat was imminent, the Rohir deliberately snarled his blade with the smith's, and—deciding to use his greater size to his advantage—pushed with all his might.
The Rohirrim prince later said that he would have had more success trying to shift Mount Mindolluin from its foundations. As far as he could discern, the only immediate consequence of his efforts was that the blond dwarf's eyes narrowed speculatively. Jafi's heavily muscled arms bunched, and it was then Thengel understood the folly of challenging a dwarf in a test of strength, especially one who had spent the last five years with a smithing hammer in his hand. Before he had time to react he was falling, hitting the ground hard. A heavy dwarven boot planted itself on his sword arm and he looked up to see a blade at his throat. He chuckled ruefully, "I yield, master dwarf."
The blade disappeared and Jafi extended a hand to help him up. Smiling genially, the smith remarked, "There is a reason why Men say that dwarves are born of stone, my friend. The Maker created us to endure."
"That is one lesson I am not likely to forget," Thengel replied, shaking his head with a smile.
The crowd of onlookers had roared when Thengel fell. Kíli was gratified and a bit surprised how many seemed to be cheering for Jafi, hoping that one of 'their' dwarves would defeat the tall horselord. Gleefully pocketing his winnings, he strolled over to join Thengel and Fíli.
"Next time I shall heed your words more carefully, Master Naki," Thengel called as he approached.
"They were the result of long and painful experience, Prince Thengel," Kíli chuckled.
"And has that experience enabled you to defeat him yourself?" Thengel asked dryly.
The brunet dwarf looked at little sheepish. "Well, my lord, Jafi and I are more or less evenly matched with one blade, but with two…" He shrugged, "I have bested him a few times in the last fifty years."
Thengel gaped at him in shock—he knew that dwarves were longer lived than the race of Men, but it was hard to imagine that two such young-looking dwarves had been sparring together longer than he had been alive.
Clearly attempting to change the subject, the blond dwarf cleared his throat, "I hope you found the blade to your liking, Prince Thengel."
"Oh, very much so!" Thengel replied earnestly. "Please be assured that I am not foolish enough to blame my defeat on the sword rather than the skill of the one who wields it." He slid the sword back into its sheath. "But now I really must go, my father is awaiting me."
"Of course," Fíli replied courteously, leading the prince back through the building to reach the street at the front. "Do you expect to stay in Rohan long?"
"That depends in part on my father," he answered, a hint of bitterness in his tone. "But I must return before winter sets in," Thengel added, flushing. "My wife and I are expecting another child, and the babe is due at the end of the year."
Fíli's face lit. "That is wonderful news! You have my heartiest congratulations; and you must give my best wishes to your lady wife."
Thengel nodded happily, "I will certainly do so." He thumped his hand against the hilt of his new sword. "And if it is a boy, I now have a blade worthy enough to bequeath to him when he is of age."
The blond dwarf felt a lump form in his throat, "I am honored, my prince." They clasped arms companionably, and Fíli watched as he rode away.
-ooo-
Kíli hummed to himself while he packed the bag he planned to take with him to the market. He had been working in his woodshop behind the forge all morning and was feeling a very un-dwarvish desire for some fresh air and sunshine.
It was a warm day, and when he entered the forge he noted with satisfaction that Fíli had decided to work shirtless. After taking a quick glance around to make sure that they were alone and that his brother was not in the midst of something it could be dangerous to interrupt, he slid his arms around Fíli's waist from behind and buried his nose in his hair.
"Have I ever told you how much love seeing you like this, nadad?" he murmured.
Fíli turned in his arms and smiled before capturing his lips in a kiss. "Countless times, nadadith, but that does not mean I'll ever tire of it." Noting Kíli's bulging pack, the blond asked, "Where are you off to, Kee?"
"Just dropping off some new items with Bachron—toys, a few flutes and wood carvings. The usual. Is there anything you need done while I'm out?" the brunet asked between kisses.
"I repaired some items for Mistress Laereth, if you don't mind dropping by the bakery on the way," his brother replied with a knowing gleam in his eyes.
"Not in the least," Kíli grinned, his already good mood improving markedly. Mahal, this was turning into a fine day indeed!
Fíli indicated the items to be returned to the bakery, and as he was stowing them the younger dwarf asked, "Raithon's not here today?" The blond had taken on an apprentice a few years earlier, a quiet, earnest boy who showed some promise to be a fine smith someday. He'd probably never be Fíli's equal in weaponcraft, but that was to be expected.
"I sent him to Harlond to check the new shipment of iron stock," Fíli explained. "He'll be back this afternoon."
When Kíli raised an eyebrow questioningly, his brother shrugged and smiled wryly. Judging the quality of stone, metals, and gems was easy and instinctive for dwarves, but had proven to be more of a problem for a child of Men. "He has to learn sometime if he's to have his own forge someday."
The brunet hoisted the bags on his shoulder and kissed his brother on the cheek, "I'm off, Fee, see you soon."
Fíli snorted, "Be sure to bring something home from the bakery this time, eh, Kee?"
"I'll do my best!" his brother grinned and headed out the door.
When Kíli arrived at the bakery the shop girl, Neredis, smiled shyly at him and called, "Mistress Laereth, Naki is here to see you."
Laereth, a gray-haired woman just a little taller than Kíli and twice as wide, bustled out of the back room and beamed at the dwarf. "Ah, Master Naki, a pleasure as always. I trust your cousin is well?" When Kíli assured her that he was indeed well, she went on, "You'll stay and have a bite."
It was more a statement than an invitation, but Kíli didn't mind. The brothers had learned long ago that the baker did things in her own way and her own time, and could not be rushed. Besides, there were some definite…advantages to letting her have her way.
"Of course, my lady, I would be honored," Kíli said gravely, pulling out a chair for her at a table near the window before seating himself.
"Ach, such good manners! Some of the young louts around here could learn from you and your cousin." Shaking her head at the perceived failings of her own kind, she turned and called, "Neredis, some tea for our guest, and some of that strawberry tart as well."
Presented with a cup of hot tea and a truly excellent strawberry tart, Kíli tucked in, letting Laereth's chatter wash over him. Finally, one topic caught his attention, nearly causing him to choke on a bite. "I was just saying to my husband the other day," Laereth began, fixing the dwarf with a penetrating look, "that it's a shame that you and Jafi are still unmarried. 'Polite', I said, 'hard workers, and easy on the eyes as well, despite being dwarves and all.' Now, I don't know what lady dwarves look for in a mate, but it seems to me that you two would be quite the catch."
The brothers had decided when they had first arrived in Minas Tirith to keep the full extent of their relationship a secret. Love between males was fortunately not forbidden in Gondor, but neither was it practiced as openly as among dwarves. So far there had been no awkward questions on the topic, those who knew them most likely assuming that the lack of female dwarves was the reason for their bachelor lifestyle.
Consequently, the baker's well-meaning inquiry caught Kíli off guard, and he struggled mightily to keep his features even. Oh, how he would enjoy recounting this conversation to Fíli later! When he could trust his voice again, he cleared his throat and replied, "It is most kind of you to say so, Mistress Laereth. But besides the unfortunate fact that there are no dwarrowdams here for us to court, my cousin and I still considered rather young to marry." Which was certainly true, though Kíli chose not to mention that the traditional dwarven age for marriage was one hundred years.
"Hmph," Laereth snorted, unimpressed. "I suppose you'll just have to travel some place with lady dwarves eventually." Evidently having decided it was time to conduct their business, she added, "I believe you have something for me."
"Yes, of course," Kíli smiled, and hauled out the pack with the items that had been repaired.
After carefully inspecting each one, she smiled, "Excellent work as usual, how much do I owe you?"
The dark-haired dwarf firmly suppressed a grin; their interactions had developed into a definite pattern over the years, and he knew very well what was expected of him. "Oh, no, Lady Laereth," he replied, his most sincere expression on his face, "Jafi insists it was but a few moments' work and no payment is necessary."
She feigned surprise, "No payment? It beats me how you two stay in business. Would you take something home with you at least? We have some lovely meat pies fresh out of the oven."
When Kíli left the bakery a few minutes later, it was with a spring in his step, enough meat pies for their supper, and a few more strawberry tarts as well. His next stop was Bachron's shop in the market square. When the two dwarves moved into this area on the third level, they hit upon a simple solution to the problem of introducing their wares—and themselves—to the local Gondorians. They came to an arrangement with Bachron, a respected local merchant, to sell some of their products through his shop for a substantial commission. He had also agreed to refer customers who needed repairs or more specialized items such as weapons directly to the dwarves.
At first the residents were wary of their strange new neighbors, but over time they proved themselves to be friendly, polite, and generous in the use of their skills to benefit the community. When Fíli took a local boy in as an apprentice, it did much to ease their concerns, as did the fact that Lord Ecthelion and others of Minas Tirith nobility were seen to prize their work. But what finally convinced many of their value as neighbors was the capture of some thieves who had been preying on merchants in the area. The thieves were foolish enough to target the dwarves' smithy, and found to their regret that dwarven fists were as hard and unforgiving as the iron they forged.
Kíli entered Bachron's shop and began unpacking his wares with a cheerful grin at the proprietor. But before he could speak Bachron hailed him from behind the counter. "Naki, what luck—you just missed a fella who was asking for you."
The brunet dwarf glanced up, puzzled, "Who was it?"
The shopkeeper shook his head, "Didn't know him, but I think he was a dwarf—a tall dwarf or a short man. I didn't see much of his face; he kept his hood pulled up over his eyes. He asked for you and your cousin by name, so I gave him directions to the forge."
For a moment it felt as if Kíli's heart had stopped beating altogether. He tried to steady himself against the counter but his hands were shaking. "When?" he demanded hoarsely. "Was he alone?"
Bachron eyed him in concern, it was readily apparent that something was wrong. "I…I just saw the one, but I suppose there could have been more waiting outside the shop. He was just here a few minutes ago; I'm surprised you didn't cross paths."
"I came from the bakery," Kíli explained, trying to set his thoughts in order. "Mahal help me, Fee is alone!" he whispered harshly. Hurriedly setting the items he was carrying on the counter, he found the merchant's eyes and said, "I'll be back for these if I can," before bolting out the door.
"Naki, what is it?" Bachron cried in alarm. "What is amiss?"
With no time or inclination for explanations, Kíli started back to the forge as fast as his legs could carry him and prayed he was not too late. He had one advantage over their mystery visitor; he knew the fastest way home through alleys and yards, while Bachron was sure to have sent the dwarf by the easiest route down the main thoroughfare.
He emerged from the side alley closest to the forge and immediately spotted the dwarf that the merchant had described, just a few yards away cautiously approaching the building's door. Kíli's breath rasped in his throat as he bit back a sob of dismay—he knew that back, that gait—it could be no other. Thoughts of Fíli alone and unprotected spurred him to action. The dwarf had just begun to turn at the sound of his footsteps when the young dwarf was upon him. Between one breath and the next the larger dwarf's back was slammed against the stone of the building, Kíli's left arm held tight across his throat and with his right, a knife pressed under his ear.
"Don't move," Kíli ground out. "I would prefer not to kill you, but I will if I must." He looked up into the face of a dwarf that he and his brother had once considered a friend and mentor; but also their mad uncle's closest friend and confidante.
Dwalin had started to struggle against his assailant, but relaxed when he recognized Kíli. "Kíli, lad, thank Mahal I've found you!" He shook his head, "Now don't you go doing anything rash, I'm just here to talk."
"You are not taking us back," Kíli said fiercely, pressing his arm tighter against the bald dwarf's throat for emphasis.
"Kíli, I trained you and your brother," Dwalin replied, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "I know better than to think I could drag you lads back to Erebor all by myself."
The brunet snorted, "There could be a dozen others beyond the gates waiting for you to lure us out."
The big dwarf sighed, "I understand your caution, but on my honor I'm just here to speak to you and Fíli. Please hear me out; there are some things you need to know. Afterward, I'll leave you here in peace if that is your wish." His voice fell, "Lad, I have a letter from your mother."
Kíli briefly closed his eyes, heart clenching. Dwalin seemed sincere, and he wanted to trust him… But before he could decide what to do, he heard his name called. He turned to see Bachron approaching, accompanied by several other men from the neighborhood.
"Naki," the merchant called again, "is this villain threatening you? You left in such a hurry, I thought you might need some help." Bachron glared suspiciously at Dwalin, "Should we call out the guard?"
Knowing that Dwalin would not attempt to overpower him in front of so many witnesses, he fixed the bald dwarf with a hard look before releasing him. "No, Bachron," he replied. "It is very kind of you, but that won't be necessary. It was a…misunderstanding.
At that moment more men joined them, this time two uniformed city guards. "Master Naki!" one called, and Kíli hurried to join him. "My apologies," the senior guard murmured, his voice pitched low. "I know there is a standing order to interrogate any dwarves seeking entrance into the city, but there was an accident at the gate and that fellow," he nodded in Dwalin's direction, "slipped by and was lost in the crowd before we could stop him. Do you wish him to be detained?"
Kíli pondered for a moment before replying. "No, that won't be necessary. But if you could have one of your men keep an eye on his movements while he's in the city, I would appreciate it."
The guard nodded his understanding and they returned to their duties. Kíli then sent Bachron and the other men home with his heartfelt thanks, promising to retrieve his belongings soon. When they were alone again Dwalin remarked dryly, "I can see now why our inquiries here turned up nothing and trade caravans have reported a less-than-friendly welcome of late."
The younger dwarf shrugged, "Lord Turgon has been…sympathetic to our situation."
"It seems you've made some friends among these Men as well," the big dwarf snorted. "But I suppose with none of your own kind around you had to make the best of a bad situation."
The look Kíli gave him in return was frosty, "These Men welcomed us and treated us as friends. Fíli and I have been safe and happy here, which is more than I can say for when we last lived among our own kind." Dwalin's eyes fell, and after a moment Kíli continued, "I am willing to trust you for now. What is it that you need to tell us?"
Dwalin glanced up, "I'd prefer to tell you both at once, if possible. He gazed at Kíli anxiously. "Fíli is here, is he not? Is he…well?"
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Kíli couldn't suppress the grin that crossed his face, "See for yourself." He opened the door to the smithy and motioned Dwalin inside.
When they entered Fíli was absorbed in his work and unable to hear them over the sound of his hammer, so they were able to watch him for a time unobserved. Dwalin had last seen the blond prince more than five years earlier; then he had been pale and thin, eyes haunted by Thorin's abuse. There was no trace of that dwarf now. His hair and beard were longer and fuller than before, and his hair had been tied back to keep it out of the way in the hot forge. The other changes were more dramatic; eyes clear and bright, skin golden where it had been pale, with heavily corded muscles across his bare arms and chest attesting to the benefits of years at the forge.
In Kíli's admittedly biased opinion, he looked magnificent, the realization of the great promise he had shown as a dwarfling—Thorin's golden heir. Dwalin evidently agreed, he exhaled loudly, his shoulders slumped in relief, head bowed. "Thank Mahal," he breathed.
The brunet stepped closer and called Fíli's name, raising his voice to be heard over the hammer strokes. The blond paused and glanced up, a smile on his face for his beloved brother. When his eyes fell on the newcomer, he froze, face pale.
Dwalin strode forward until he was within a few paces of elder prince and to the brothers' astonishment, dropped to one knee. Right hand clutched to his chest, he met Fíli's eyes and spoke, "Fíli, son of Dís, rightful King Under the Mountain, your people have need of you. You are called home to claim the throne of Erebor."