Author's Note: A little later than I expected, but it is here nonetheless. And a shameless plug for It's-A-Passion and BlueRiverSteel. They both have excellent works that you should take a look at.


A Contest and the Rule

In which two archers find good aim and a dwarf shows manners


The day had dawned warm and soft, the sun clearing the edges of the valley to bathe the entire city in a gentle glow. She'd been up for some time, having been unable to find sleep after her conversation with the dwarf. And what a conversation it had been. He wanted more out of his life, that much had been clear, but he'd also seemed so sure of himself. He hadn't judged her for what she looked to be; he had been talking to her as an equal, something that had been rolling about in her mind along with all the other thoughts for the coming day.

She'd finally brushed that thought to the back of her mind, pushing it away to think on at a much later date. As she pulled on a boot, a knock was heard at her door; Tye would never intrude until she was already out of the room, and Carden was most likely passed out from the night before. So, that left Syloris.

"It's open."

Shoving her foot into her remaining boot, she looked up to see the swordsman mostly dressed, his shirt and jerkin still open, though his fingers were working on tying them up. She stood and slid on her own long, black vest, lacing it up while speaking.

"What brings you to my room this early, penada?"

He smirked at that, tossing his cloak over the back of a chair and going back to the leather strings of his jerkin.

"You know I can't resist your shining personality in the morning, riel."

She knew she shouldn't have encouraged his learning of that particular language, but it had come in quite handy more than once. Rolling her eyes, she turned her back to him and shook out her thick, black hair. Rhegda heard his footsteps come closer, and then his deft hands were combing through her locks, tugging them slightly as he separated them into manageable sections.

"I heard there was going to be a little contest today."

There was nothing more to say other than to agree, so she did with a grunt. The woman could feel her hair being folded over and over, her swordsman making steady work of his task.

"Do you think it wise to let Tye loose on these dwarves? There is no telling how good that dwarf actually is, but we both know how talented our boy is."

Rhegda sighed, that very thought having gone through her head multiple times since the mess of them agreed to the match. It wouldn't do anyone any good if there was a feud started simply because her archer was better, and a Man to top it off.

"I've weighed it. I don't think that dwarf will take offense to losing, particularly not to Tye. They seem to be...friends."

With a final tug, Syloris finished up the braid, tying it off with a leather strap she handed over her shoulder. This act, it had been done many a time, and it was a way for them to ready themselves for the day, a ritual that allowed them to discuss their next moves while in private, knowing there would be little chance of them being disturbed. Though she was never one for intimacy, she and the notoriously drunken, handsome man had found a balance between them that allowed for physical touch while maintaining their separate statuses. For his part, Syloris had always enjoyed having a moment with the two of them; Rhegda was a calm woman and intelligent, and he had very rare occasions outside of their morning routine to speak with her. She was an entirely different person when on the road – most usually – and her icy nature rarely cracked until she was behind closed doors. Even then, he'd found it difficult to get past the strangle hold she'd placed on her emotions.

He had ridden with her for years, and she had yet to show him all of her.

"I want your sword on your hip today, Syloris. I don't think much will come of our presence there, but one never knows with dwarves."

She turned to face him, her hands finishing up the laces of her vest. His green eyes were narrowed slightly, but he nodded and took a step back, retrieving his cloak and slinging it over his shoulder.

"As always, I live to carry out your commands, riel nín."

He grinned then as he retreated from her room, closing the door behind him with a gentle click. She was feeling an itch to wear her own blade, but strapping it on at this point would just beg for the dwarves to say something, or perhaps act on something. Sighing, she reached out and snared a smaller belt from the bedpost, the single sheath on it small and well worn. With a practiced sling, she wrapped it round her waist, buckling it swiftly and adjusting the leather so that it rode at the small of her back.

Reaching over to the table beside the bed, she retrieved a simple, curved knife. It wasn't pretty, nor was it particularly elegant. It was functional, and exquisitely sharp, the only two requirements she'd ever had for a weapon. But that particular knife had been with her for most of her life, and was quite possibly the one thing she could consider close to her.

In a sure motion, she slid it home, the sheath making no noise as it came in contact with the blade. As she reached for her coat, she heard voices from outside her door, voices she knew and a couple she'd only recently met.

Stuffing an arm through a leather sleeve, Rhegda opened her door to see a gaggle of people standing around chatting. Tye was the first she spied, his bow in hand and his quiver strapped to his back. There was a smile that he couldn't let go of splashed all over his face, and it was mirrored in that of his dwarven counterpart. Kili was grinning from ear to ear, his own bow ready and a quiver of beautifully fletched arrows slung over one shoulder. His brother had also decided to make the trip, and was standing to the side speaking with Syloris; all were incredibly animated for so early in the morning.

As per her request, her swordsman was strapped and fully armed.

Exiting her room, Rhegda finished donning her coat and swept up beside them, standing arms crossed, until one of them realized she'd materialized in their group. Of course, both Tye and Kili registered her appearance almost immediately, both halting their chattering and turning to face her.

Tye seemed as though he was trying to keep in all the excitement in the world.

Kili was staring at her with some sort of face she couldn't discern.

She couldn't blame him for having misgivings about her after the previous night, so she simply nodded to them both and turned to Fili.

"I suppose you're the one who's going to be running this show?"

The blond grinned and nodded once.

"Of course. I can't expect them to do it, and the rest of our company will be making too many bets to actually keep track. And I can't leave it to you or..."

His words trailed off as he registered what he'd said. The dwarf's mouth hung open for a bit as Rhegda fished out a small pouch that felt heavy with coin. She tossed it to Fili, who – thankfully – caught it and stared back at her.

"I think you know who to put it on."

Sublimely happy that he hadn't trod on her toes, Fili stuffed the pouch into his coat and beamed up at her. Syloris – not one to stand around and do nothing unless alcohol was involved – clapped his hands and rubbed them together, a sly smile on his lips.

"So when are we getting this mess on the road? I'm looking forward to winning well more than my fair share."

With that, the lot of them began traipsing down one of the halls, turning corners as though they knew exactly where they were going; surprisingly enough, they were actually going the correct way. She withheld comment as they strolled, allowing Syloris to take control of the conversation, when and if the two archers allowed him to. They were spirited and jesting, and she had to admit it was good to know Tye was finding a bit of time in which he could practice his craft without that including the head of a man. He had been too young for their journeys, but she'd needed a bowman, and he'd been qualified; she had since wondered if he wouldn't have been better in that miserable little village.

Eventually, the gaggle of Men and Dwarf arrived in a large, impeccably groomed space settled against a structure that seemed to be carved from the hill stone itself, and rose up above them in graceful spires. There were targets already set at varying distances – she would not be surprised to find out the Elves had placed them out during the night – and their bright colours glittered in the early light.

Eagerly, the bowmen hurried onto the field, only to find they had an audience. Most of the dwarves had already taken up residence on the benches lining the stone wall, eating what she assumed to be their second breakfast for the day. A couple more were standing near the entrance, one of which appeared taller, broader, and far more menacing than the rest combined; he had the look of a dwarf who'd seen the world in flames, and attempted to beat back the heat with an ax and pure attitude. He, of course, sent her a dark look, to which she replied with an incline of her chin; she had no intent to stir up problems between the groups, and if particular members of the other company could keep their prejudices to themselves, then it could be a good day.

She also caught the small form of a race she hadn't seen in years: a Hobbit. He was sitting amongst the dwarves, eating and trying to keep out of the way of flung food and flying wagers. The presence of a Hobbit changed the situation no small degree; he had to be there because of the damn wizard, and if that man was gathering together multiple races, then he was planning something very mischievous and very dangerous. She wasn't entirely certain how she felt about this revelation, but she decided to keep it to herself for the moment, saving it for a time when she could confront the old codger.

She didn't, however, see any trace of the self-righteous dwarf king.

Fili and Syloris had scurried off to the benches, the blond dwarf talking non-stop the entire way, and going so far as to introduce the tall man to the rest. They seemed inclined to allow him to sit, particularly when he flashed his best smile and waved an over-burdened pouch of coins at them; if there was nothing else redeeming about the swordsman, it was that he could carry on with nearly any race or individual, coming out with a friend in the end.

Though, she'd also seen him in more than one bar brawl.

For herself, she remained at the entrance, leaning against a wall not far from the burlier dwarf, her eyes sweeping over the field and her body lax; she had the feeling that dwarf in particular was one petitioning for her exile. She didn't begrudge him that, as it was a reasonable reaction; a stigma was a stigma, no matter how far from home one travels.

A cheer from the gallery broke her from her thoughts, and she looked up to see the bowmen setting up for their first shots. Tye was smiling, but she could see it in him, the controlled tension that ran through his body as he prepared. The first time she'd witnessed it, she thought he was simply unable to relax, but the more she watched, the more she came to realize that he was relaxed; he was focusing the control he needed to the proper points of his body. It was a trick she'd only seen in much older archers, and it had surprised her to see it in him.

The dwarf, however, had a loose smile that was mimicked in his stance, his body language mellow and his fingers light on the bow. Rhegda had never seen a dwarf archer, so her interest was raised at the prospect of actually seeing him shoot. That one thing she couldn't put a finger on was still there, still in his smile, and in his eyes. It was similar to the way he'd looked at her the previous night, and it gnawed at her that she didn't know how to describe it.

Her eyes darted back to Tye as he nocked an arrow and smoothly pulled back the string. His partially gloved fingers brushed his cheek for the briefest of moments, bringing the bow to full draw, before they relaxed, allowing the taunt string to slide free, sending the dark-fletched arrow whipping to the target. In the perfect silence during its flight, she could see the incredible look of focus on the normally shy, smiling boy; he was in his element, and she knew from that one look that he wasn't going to hold back.

The arrow impacted the nearest target just left of center, and it wasn't a mistake; he had taken a cold shot, one that told him everything he needed to know about the wind, the moist air, and the distance.

He wouldn't miss again.

She smiled at the thought of her bowman winning such a harmless, important competition; his ego would take a boost, and he would earn the respect from at least a half-dozen dwarves. There were shouts about losing and winning funds from the gallery, and coin changed hands. Tye, for the most part, seemed unphased by the chatter behind him, and he focused instead on his opponent. Rhegda crossed her arms before she, too, turned her attention to the dark-haired dwarf archer, drowning out the gallery noise and focusing on his shot.

Kili had been in much noisier situations with his kin before, so taking a shot at a target in a controlled environment would be easy. Well, at least, it should be easy. The boy beside him had taken an excellent shot, and he knew from experience that the placement of the arrow had been a tested one; the other bowman was good, but it was time to see just how good he was. Smiling, the dwarf pulled an arrow free and set it to the string, eyes on the target; where Tye had taken in the target's distance once drawn, Kili determined it as he drew the bow. As soon as his arrow tip was in his sight, his body adjusted to the correct distance and he loosed the arrow, sending it downrange with equal silence.

It missed center by only a small margin, one that mimicked Tye's own shot.

His method had been different, less refined, than her archer's, and for a moment she wondered if it wasn't intentional. Then, it hit her: he had never been trained. From what she knew of dwarves – and those she'd met – they weren't keen on long range weaponry. Kili would have grown to use a bow on his own, and from that foundation, he'd come to that style; it was sleek but unrefined at the same time. It said something about his character as well, being that he would have lived through many a sharp remark and no few jests at his expense. Along with the lack of beard, he stood out from his kin, and not in a good way.

Some small part of her found a bit of respect for the young dwarf.

As both set up for their second attempts, she heard the approach of another next to her. It wasn't the angry, robust dwarf, but the one that had been standing next to him; he was entirely different from the other, being shorter, slightly slimmer, and sporting a lovely, fully grey beard. The dwarf stood for a moment, watching the pair of archers, before speaking up without a hint of malice in his voice.

"Your bowman is quite talented."

She didn't look to him, but nodded all the same.

"As is yours, Master Dwarf."

A short chuckle issued from the older dwarf, and he smiled with an agreeing motion.

"Aye, he's good. Bit more of a trouble-maker than we'd like, though."

Rhegda did look down at that, taking in his stature and kind face. He was smirking in a knowing way, and she had no doubt that he knew of the late conversation the night before, but it appeared he held nothing against her for it. In fact, if she wasn't mistaken, he was breaking a hard rule as well just by standing next to her.

"I would like to say they grow out of it, but if Syloris has taught me anything, it's that some children will always remain children."

Another cheer caught both of their attentions, and the woman saw the bowmen were readying their third shots, though they were far longer. Previously, the pair had remained equal; she was curious to know just how long that would hold.

"Thorin's decision is that we should try to avoid you. Your men, however...they are welcome. Particularly your youngest."

The words that bit into the moment were said with an apologetic tone, and she heard in him the reasonable dwarf that his king had most likely ignored. Her eyes still held the contest in their sight, but she sighed deeply.

"His decision is understandable, Master Dwarf. And I would be most pleased for Tye to have more than myself or Syloris to speak with."

That wasn't the reaction he'd been expecting, particularly not from a woman that had been chill to the wizard, and utterly dismissive of their king. She had accepted the unfair ruling of Thorin without question, though it was obvious to him this sort of treatment was a thing she had become accustomed to. He was bitter to Elves, and would be to his dying day, and Men were worth very little, but he'd met Men of integrity. Should they have judged her more a Man, and not the brown hue of her skin?

Realizing he'd taken too much time contemplating, he cleared his throat.

"My apologies. I've not introduced myself."

He took a step forward and bowed.

"Balin, at your service."

She looked down to him as more cheers sounded through the area. It was odd that he was putting forth that much effort, but she assumed it wouldn't harm anything to return a bit of it. So, she returned his gesture with one of her own.

"Rhegda, at yours."

She opened her mouth to ask why he was risking the ire of his king by speaking with her when the indignant looking dwarf next to them could no longer hold his thoughts to himself.

"Ye shouldn't of introduced yourself, brother. And ye definitely shouldn't of offered her anything."

Both Balin and Rhegda glanced to the surly dwarf, who in turn was facing them, arms crossed. There was an intimidating factor to him that would have put most people off, but she'd stared into a rabid orc's face once too many times for such a look to bother her overmuch. She did, however, take it for the warning that it was intended to be.

"No offer other than civility was given, Master Dwarf."

There was a sudden weight in the air that settled between the worn dwarf and the brown skinned woman, one that Balin hurriedly jumped into.

"We are already suffering the hospitality of Elves, brother, so what alarm should occur from a few words with this woman?"

There seemed to be much more that the unnamed dwarf was hoping to say, but his chance to speak was drowned out by a ruckus from those still watching the game. Balin, his brother, and Rhegda all turned to witness Kili performing a pivoting snap shot, one that landed his arrow a few inches from center. It was an impressive maneuver, one that took a great amount of skill and practice to perform usefully; many who attempted it were simply showing off, but she could see the practicality of it in his motions. But Tye...Tye had a smile on his face, and out came two arrows at once, a smirk on his lips as he rotated away from his targets.

Now the crowd was louder than ever, shouts of disbelief and encouragement drowning out all other sounds from the morning; their antics had caught the eye of more than a few Elves, and they stood on the high balconies, looking down to the competition below, some judging, others giving faint smiles to the scene. She dearly hoped none other noticed their presence.

Her eyes dropped back down to see Tye suddenly whip around, both arrows finding their place on the string as he draws mid-turn. Once again, the boy brushes the tight string to his cheek before letting fly the two arrows. They come home to either side of Kili's single one, level but not perfectly spaced. Tye threw up his hands in a victory gesture, then thought better of it as he spun around to see his opponent, not certain if he'd angered the dwarf.

Quite the contrary.

The dark-haired bowman pointed dramatically at Tye, his face pure excitement as he cheered along with the gallery. A bit distracted by the display, she nearly missed Balin's next words.

"The boy is very remarkable. Who was it that trained him?"

The woman shrugged, shaking her head and watching as the dwarf archer set up for a kneeling shot.

"From what he has said, family, though I can't be certain."

Nodding almost to himself, Balin frowns before questioning again.

"And does he know the sword?"

At that, Rhegda stands from her position on the wall, dropping her hands to clasp them in front of her.

"Some. Syloris is doing his best, but the boy seems to have no head for it. And Carden teaches the knife, but I know the instructor detests every moment of it."

Before the greying dwarf could say anything more, his brother spoke up, tone scornful and rough.

"And what do you teach him, then?"

She didn't bother to glance his way; she knew what emotion was on his face. Sighing mostly to herself, she took one last look at the pleasant sight unfolding in front of her before replying.

"I teach him how to stay alive."

Rhegda turned to nod at the sullen, now hard-eyed dwarf, giving him a slight bow and then faced his brother. A short, quick smile touched the corner of her lips as she bowed to him as well, heart slightly lighter for having spoken with him.

"I wish you good morning, Master Balin. And thank you."

She gave him enough of a moment to return the gesture before striding off in search of the man who had tossed her in with Elves, Dwarves, and a peculiar Hobbit, though her mind didn't hesitate to remind her of one particular, adventurous member of the group.

Nor would it let her forget his kind smile, and knowing eyes.


penada: Fatherless (bastard)

riel nín: my princess