Anozzer for youuuu! Man, page 10 and beyond were somehow deleted and I was sad, so I rewrote them as best as I could. A long chapter here to make up for my lack of posting. The next chapter should maybe be up in a week or so based on my class schedule.
I used improper Khuzdul in this chapter (and most likely the chapters to come,) because I'm using a different computer and it's fighting with me (I'm losing.) So, where umlauts are intended to be, I'll put an accent over it instead. Sorry for any inconveniences.
For the chapters after this, I'm thinking of setting them as "flash-backs," if you will, of the events leading to their arrival to Erebor. Whatcha think? With any luck that makes sense. Hope you enjoy!
Review responses:
Punky Warhammer: lol thanks, I'll keep that in mind. "Posterior" is actually defined as "further back in position." Anatomically speaking, you're correct. :)
Marina Oakenshield: :D Thanks! Here ya go!
Chapter 14: Occurrences
There are only three things on the Valar's good earth that the skin-changer called Aia absolutely despised: abandonment, the stench of cooked poultry, and goodbyes. All three of which Aia could happily live without for the rest of her days; in fact, she had done so in her exploration of Middle-earth a year past. However, much to Aia's discomfort, she would be burdened with the experience of all three over the next few weeks in her endeavour with the dwarves on the last stretch of the adventure she had been rallied into.
It had been two weeks since the arrival of the Company in Esgorath, and Thorin was more than eager to depart. Understandably, Aia and Bilbo, on the other hand, were significantly less eager to advance on one of the last great dragons of Middle-earth. None of the dwarves seemed to take hold of the concept of an attempt of slaying a Fire Drake, and Aia did not step on their toes about it in caution of angering or – a less likely scenario – frightening the Company.
The morning that marked the final full day of the Company's presence in Lake Town had arrived with a peculiar arousal for the skin-changer.
Aia had been roused by an unfamiliar, constant scratching. With sealed eyelids, the bird-girl racked her mind in an attempt to figure out the origin of her rude awakening.
Not mice.
Not feet.
Not Kili scratching his beard.
Perhaps Bilbo is reading a book? No.
Annoyed at her more-than-half-asleep-mind's feeble resolutions, Aia opened one eyelid to reveal the culprit: Ori was perched on the couch beside the girl and Kili. His nose was buried in his book, but he obviously wasn't reading.
"Ori, what're you doing?" The girl's question would have startled the poor dwarf out of his boots, were he wearing any.
"Oh! Aia! You startled me! D-did I wake you?"
"Erm.. yes, but I see the sun is well-risen, so I would have roused shortly," Ori returned Aia's smile. Ashen eyes flitted to the dwarf's book. "What are you doing?"
With reddened cheeks, the young dwarf buried his bashful face back into his book.
"Oh, this? It's uh.. nothing.." Ori spared a quick glance at Aia and added, "milady."
An amber eyebrow rose and sudden emotions ignited in Aia's body:
Curiosity,
Excitement,
Mischief,
Skepticism.
Without taking heed of the annoyed, half-asleep Durin heir beside her, Aia sprung off of the floor, nearly tripping on the alleged heir, and in front of Ori. With his 60+ years of dwarven reflex training, Ori was, of course, prepared to dodge the girl's feeble theft effort. In an instant, he flipped over the wooden structure of the couch and began fleeing. In that same instant, Aia was hot on his tail; the two scrambled between dwarves, furniture, rooms, food, and eventually, a poor Hobbit who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Aia had snatched Bilbo in her arms and held her fingers together as to flick the mass of unruly morning curls on the halfling's head.
"Hand over the book, Ori, or the Hobbit faces the wrath of the mighty and relentless Beornings!" Aia used her most threatening voice, as the two had gained an audience in the commotion: Thorin, Balin, Gloin, Fili, Kili, Bofur, Dwalin, and a few Men, including Bard, who had shared a breakfast with the dwarves. Ori simply shook his head and pushed his book and quill deep into his waistcoat pocket.
"My lady Aia, the Hobbit won't be effected by a mere tap to the scalp!" Balin cautioned. Aia's mischief was evident across her features.
"Very well."
Bilbo, who had meanwhile been attempting his best methods of negotiation for freedom by using all sorts of flattery, threats, and compromises (all of which were blatantly ignored), was shifted into a less-than-gentle choke-hold with a fork handle held to his throat.
"One last chance, Ori, or it's you next-" Aia's threat was interrupted as she lost hold of the Hobbit (who was now fleeing behind a chuckling Dwalin) and hoisted into the air along with Ori. Bard's voice resounded its way into Aia's awareness.
"Now, now, no need to bring innocents into this. What are you after, Aia?" the man inquired.
"My journal!" Ori peeped.
"You woke me up!"
"I didn't-"
"Enough! Where is the journal, Ori?" Bard commanded. Ori's face went downcast. Aia's mood followed accordingly. She hadn't seen Bard in a somber mood in the month she'd known him. It was uncomfortable to say the least. The dwarf presented his journal to the Man, who dropped Ori to retrieve his book.
Still carrying Aia by her collar similarly to that of a mother cat and her naughty kitten, Bard walked past all 13 Company members (including Thorin and Kili, both had the slightest of smirks on their faces,) into the kitchen and sat Aia on the counter.
"Stay," he scolded. Aia thought she saw a wink, but then again, she had a history of hallucinating. The Man opened the book to a page marked by Ori's quill. Gradually, the dark, thin eyebrows of Bard the Bowman journeyed their way up his forehead. Several excruciating moments passed and Aia's damnable curiosity peaked.
"What is it, Bard? Can I see?" Aia asked as she craned her neck to view what was merely a few inches from her sight. Bard easily swatted her away.
"Come, Batùlon. You'll be the last to see it. This is your punishment for taking Bilbo hostage and causing ruckus in these halls-"
"But Bard!-"
"Hush, you. Now," Bard looked to the Future King and a Man beside him, "Thorin and Medle, would you share this with whoever wishes to see? Take your time, as well. The girl must exercise her patience," Bard looked back to Aia. The man had a Gandalfesque twinkle in his mischievous eyes, "Furthermore; I have something to show you. Come with me," Bard said as he latched to Aia's collar once again.
"I suppose I could cancel my plans," Aia groaned with sarcasm dripping off her tongue. Bard merely smirked and dragged her away down the ever-freezing planks of Esgorath.
Thick bloody rays of the evening sunshine scrawled along the wooden planks in the Esgorath halls. Bilbo, of course, was the only one to acknowledge the beauty of the light – a light that he may not see again for a time yet - as he was the only one in the room who wasn't busy shuffling, packing, arguing, eating, arguing, sleeping, and/or arguing. Thorin's companions were arranged to depart on the morn, and there was little time of the day remaining, as a feast was to be held by the citizens and Master of Lake Town in the upcoming hours of the eventide. Bilbo was both excited and anxious to attend the feast. He did not want to partake in the event that marked the leave from their final sanctuary.
He felt this morning's breakfast come back up in his throat.
Aia kept a close eye on the Hobbit – who had already packed what little belongings he owned – while she assisted the dwarves by packing various food (mostly dried chicken and horse, much to Aia's despair), clothing, weapons, and ponies. Bilbo's gaze, she noticed, had been following some sunrays on the planks for the past hour. No one pestered the Hobbit, as everyone unanimously shared the same dual apprehension/excitement as their burglar. The minute Bilbo's lip twitched, Aia was at his side.
"What's the matter, Bilbo?" Aia inquired (unnecessarily, of course, she, along with the rest of the company were well aware of the Hobbit's troubles).
With heavy eyelids, Bilbo gazed into Aia's greys.
"I'm scared, Aia," Bilbo finally admitted. He blinked thrice, took a deep breath, and continued, "I'm not strong.. I don't see how these dwarves expect me to deal with their dragon business... Ah, and furthermore, Thori-"
Aia silenced Bilbo with a finger over his lips. "Bilbo. Calm yourself. You will find nothing but further troubles if you linger on these negative thoughts." The girl smiled slightly. "You still have the choice to go back, you know," Aia was surprised to see distress in Bilbo's eyes at that suggestion, "I could take your position as burglar, though I-"
"NO!" Bilbo cried, resulting in the raising of a few heads, a few eyebrows and even a few axes from the Company, "sorry.." the poor Hobbit quietly bid to the disturbed members. Kili, too, noticed the troubled state the Hobbit was in and made to join Aia.
"Now, now, Mr Boggins, what seems to be the problem here? Is Batùlon giving you troubles?" The forever-mischievous heir of Durin inquired.
"Batùlon", Aia noticed, was a new nickname adopted and used for her by many of the company members and even a few Men.
Aia leaned into Kili to whisper something only he could hear. His eyes, Aia noticed, were focused on a new pendant around her neck.
"Please be nice, Ki. He is not faring well," Aia nearly pleaded. Kili frowned and looked into her illegible eyes, then into Bilbo's sunken eyes. Kili nodded and sat on Bilbo's other side.
"Might I talk to Bilbo alone, Batùlon?" Kili knew Aia would protest, so he made quick use of his puppy-like face and poked out his lower lip. Aia rolled her eyes and put a comforting hand on Bilbo's shoulder.
"If he bothers you, bite him. Hard." Aia smiled at Bilbo, who returned the gesture, but his deepened eyes didn't match his smile. It was disconcerting.
"Attagirl," Kili's condescending voice trailed after Aia after she treaded away with one major thought on her mind: Balin and Thorin. She hadn't gotten the opportunity to ask – beg – the dwarves to teach her Khuzdûl. Uninvited apprehension built up in her abdomen with every step she took toward Thorin's door. The girl closed her eyes upon reaching Thorin's half-closed door.
Doubts made their way to the front of her mind.
Will they find my asking rude? Am I qualified to learn the undisclosed language of the dwarves?
Aia's thoughts were interrupted by Balin's voice.
"Lass?" The elder dwarf's eyebrows furrowed so closely together that the two seemed to fuse together to form one white caterpillar eyebrow. All doubt and misery left Aia temporarily at this sight, but soon returned with a vengeance at Balin's following question, "what's that yer sayin' about learnin' the 'undisclosed language of the dwarves?'" the girl's heart and jaw plummeted when she realised she had expressed her thoughts vocally. As if the Valar wished to see this girl experience the most displeasure she could in a few moments, Aia saw Thorin's figure at the bed, facing her.
They heard everything.
The Beorning wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and be forgotten, but sweet, good-natured Balin would let anything but that happen. Aia forced herself to swallow the miniscule amount of remaining saliva was left in her suddenly-dry throat. Somehow her flustered brain managed to form somewhat-polite words.
"I.. I was wondering if I could receive your blessings and consent to learn the great language of the Erebor dwarves," Aia bid with a dipped head. The girl heard padded footsteps approach her.
Thorin.
Aia was fully prepared to be rejected and sent away, but she felt a warm pressure under her chin. Her face was raised by the rough fingers of Balin. She met his muted blue-grey eyes that had been dulled from years of witnessing many terrors and many wonders. Aia's eyes wandered to Thorin's crisp icy gaze. While Balin's eyes were wise and full of experience, Thorin's was overcome by, dare she say, pride?
So many moments had passed that Aia's feet began to sting from her weight. Balin's hand had departed from Aia's chin and the girl's lids dropped. She nodded. "I understand, My King. I am not of dwarven blood. I should not have asked-"
"Mahal, Girl, are you mad? Did you pick up a disease from Mirkwood?" The Future King's question confused, but didn't surprise Aia. What did surprise Aia was his next sentence, "if you truly desire to learn the language of the dwarves, then so be it. You have proven yourself worthy to share our customs and blood. But I warn you," his eyes grew stern, "if you betray this trust we are placing upon you by enlightening others of this language, the punishment will be severe. However," the harshness of his eyes and voice simmered to a softer, more inviting sentiment, "Balin, myself, and the other dwarves would enjoy instructing you in our language." Aia could not see the small smile on Thorin's face, as her eyes were closed from the severity of her smile.
The girl fought the quite powerful urge to embrace the two dwarves and instead bowed to the two. They nodded to her and Aia virtually skipped back to Kili and Bilbo.
The girl had later discovered Ori's dirty secret: a sketch of Aia and Kili slumbering in one-another's arms. He even included an irritated patch of skin on Aia's cheeks where Kili's beard tore at her skin. The girl felt the smallest amount of guilt for having rattled the Hobbit and young dwarf in such a manner, but the guilt was gone as quickly as it had come. After all, he could have asked permission before spying on Aia and Kili as they slept.
Of course, she was made aware of the sketch at the most uncomfortable moment of her evening: the beginning of the feast.
Rosy sausage fingers clasped an intricately-folded rose-gold fork that had met a white crystal chalice with three taps! The Beorning would have thought the smooth transition of rose to gold in the items she was focusing on quite extraordinary had the rosy sausage fingers not resembled pale carrots; the shades, tints, hues, textures, and labyrinths of crevasses – disregarded by the common eye – in the digit, utensil, and vessel captivated Aia. Every depression in the meaty, sweaty finger was of necessity for its host, every concave angle of the chalice and each convolution in the fork's dipped handle were moulded with great focus and care by some forgotten man some forgotten time ago. The girl was the only person in the room to notice the craftsmanship and beauty of the three items that called attention to the inhabitants of the great hall.
Shame what one so easily looks past.
Aia's scrutinising meditation was interrupted by two occurrences: a nasally announcement delivered by the Master of Lake Town, and the thick, lingering, stinking stench of roast chicken. Hairs stood on the bird-girl's arms and her breath caught like water in her lungs uncomfortably. More than half of the words spilling from the rotund man's mouth went right past Aia, as she was focused on battling with the urge to run out the doors in the middle of the Master's speech.
A handful of cheers, applaud, and huzzahs concluded the Master's greeting (Aia assumed it was a greeting; after all, he began with "greetings my citizens...",) and the skin-changer was able to put her mouth to her cup to take a breath in of the uncontaminated non-poultry-invaded-air provided by a pocket of the heaven-sent gas between the wine and the cusp of her chalice.
It smelled of alcohol and exhaled breath.
Lovely.
One more deep breath in, and her cup had been invaded by the putrid that is roast. Additionally, one more announcement was bellowed from dual voices.
Fili and Bofur.
They were looking directly at the girl.
Valar, save me.
"We've one more item that many might find quite pleasing, if you'd all would be willin' to spare just a few moments' time," presented Bofur.
Fili's voice. "A sketch, from our own Ori of Durin's Folk, of my dear brother and his damsel. Enjoy." The two descended from the chairs they stood and grinned a wicked grin and distributed a wink to each a beet-red girl whose lungs were declining in capacity, a beet-red, fuming heir of Durin the Deathless, and a beet-red abashed young dwarf of Durin's Folk.
Torture couldn't come in a more effective way at the moment for the three victims.
Aia watched Fili and Bofur with her eagle-precision eyes. The two had strolled over to her, whispered something she couldn't hear over the roar of laughter, and they even had the nerve to plant saliva-riddled kisses on her cheeks. The Beorning released the air in her lungs in a harsh exhalation and stood – successfully bringing her chair in contact with the offending dwarves – and hastily fled from stench in the halls.
Fiddling with the unruly fur of her boots, (the wild animal pelt resembled Beorn's mane when he would wake: big and ruthless,) Aia caught her much-needed breath outside of the Company's halls a few buildings beyond the Main Hall.
Bare soles, a plate, and a smug grin made their way behind the girl that was bent over manipulating her boot and successfully gave her a major fright. Aia yelped like an injured puppy and reflexively planted her fist into the offender's nose. A crunch! later, the girl processed that she had stricken her barefoot beau, and an assortment of food coloured the planks resulted from doing so. With a gasp and a million different apologies, Aia cradled Kili's face, poked, prodded, and kissed around until she got some reaction other than pouting and occasional intakes of breath when she invaded a sore spot. Blood was gradually running from the dwarf's face onto the shirts of the two lovers.
"Kili, I need to stop the blood. This will hurt. You can hate me when the blood flow ceases but, until then, I need you to cooperate with me," Aia warned. The dwarf looked in the girl's eyes with a questioning stare. "Ready?" Kili closed his eyes, sighed, and nodded, waiting for the pain.
"One, two-" Aia then put as much pressure on the bridge of Kili's thin nose as she could. Pain similar to that of a white-hot knife being twisted and shoved around as if in a crowd of busy people shot right through the poor dwarf's face. Irrevocable tears welled in Kili's eyes and no matter how much he tried to blink them away, more seemed to form.
"AAHH! You're supposed to count to three, you bloody chicken!" Kili yelped as he reached to cradle his nose. Aia chuckled.
"That's a new one. Though I prefer zundushinh or Batùlon, although I've no idea what it means.."
"Yeah. Well, you're getting 'chicken' for now," Kili sulked, "and you won't find out until that wretched dragon is dead." Aia planted a kiss on her dwarf's forehead and apologised once more. "Yeah, yeah. Perhaps I deserve it. I've been a troll's arse to you with the teasing and spooking as of late," Kili confided with a ghost of a smirk. Aia pushed some hair from his eyes, replaced Kili's hand with hers on his nose, and smiled. "This, by no means, is the end of it though," Kili's concluding chuckle was cut short by a slight increased pressure on his injury. "Ech. Alright, I'll have Fili do the spooking from hereafter, yeah?"
"But you will continue to ridicule my skin-changing?"
"Aye. And by my beard, it'll be better than before," he winked.
"That is, if you had a beard-"
"Don't, Chicken," Kili warned in a mock-warning, "or else."
"Or else what?" Aia challenged. She began to stand and Kili followed in suit with an air of agility that Aia had not expected. He swiftly hooked onto the girl's waist and pulled her to him from behind. His face was buried in her minty hair behind her head.
"Or I'll have you for dinner, my birdie," Kili murmured into her ear. He planted a kiss behind her earlobe and trailed his lips along her neck until he reached a delicate silver chain at the crown of her torso just along her collarbone. He was too fixed on his ministrations that he didn't acknowledge the girl stiffen in his arms until she pulled away. "Aia?" Horror struck him as he looked into her apprehensive eyes. "What have I done, Batùlon? Have I harmed you?"
Aia closed her eyes as Kili shifted around to face her.
"No. Only it's.. It's... Jan. I'm scared... of intimacy. I trusted him and he..." Aia was rendered unable to finish her thought as sobs formed in her breathing. Kili wiped a tear from her cheek.
"Aia, love, you needn't do anything you aren't ready to do. I won't let anything happen to you, yeah? If some high and mighty Man or Elf fancies you and tries to..." Kili trailed off, "I'd give him a taste of the wrath of Durin! I'll tell you, he wouldn't see daylight for three moons!" Kili quirked a cocky eyebrow and flexed.
A petite grin formed on the girl's face. She took Kili's palm and pressed it other heart.
"I trust you, Ki." Before Kili could respond, Aia began running, pulling her dwarf along with her, and entered the Halls the dwarves shared. "How drunk was Fili tonight?" the girl murmured. Kili frowned in confusion.
"Quite, I reckon. He's likely swooned on the dining table," Kili laughed at the thought of his older, more composed brother passed out in his food. His smile soon faded, though, as the girl dragged him into Fili's room.
"Good," Aia whispered as she pushed Kili against the door. There was a strange, unfamiliar tone in her voice – almost like mist. She pressed her cold, somehow-soft lips to the rough ones of the dwarf. She put excessive force into the kiss, much to Kili's liking. He would have commented but he did not want to interrupt the girl's ministrations and he heard a click! behind his head.
Aia had locked the door's latch.
Kili's heart thundered.
The girl made quick work of unlacing her shoes and tossed them to the side like a wolf throwing the fur of its prey. She looked at him with swollen pupils – he could see himself perfectly. Aia found her way to the bottom of Kili's tucked-in tunic and yanked the hem out of his trousers. Icy fingers trailed along Kili's furnace chest.
It was a blissful contrast.
While Aia had been working Kili's shirt off of his body, he had been squeezing and moulding the girl's hips and waist until he was to raise his arms to fully remove his tunic. He was temporarily blinded as the blood-stained linen passed over his eyes and when he could see again, Aia's own shirt had been removed, leaving only a thin translucent cloth held in place by a cord that wrapped along the crown of her breasts. The thin material graced Aia's womanly figure like a hilt to a sword. Her arousal was obvious in her flushed peachy skin, heightened breaths, enlarged pupils, and two quite-appealing projections under her shirt that swayed with her breathing. His fingers trembled to cradle the swellings of her breasts, but he would let her act first. Only she knew her limits and he would have her act on them, as much as the painful throbbing in his pants disagreed.
And act she did.
She grasped his hand and placed it on her pale breast under the cloth. Kili's breath caught in his throat at the sensation as if he'd been punched. How supple and sweet her skin felt under his grasp. He couldn't control the desire to rid the damned barrier between her bare skin and his eyes – without hesitation, he removed his hand from her breast and tore the fragile cloth in two. A gasp left the girl's throat but she did nothing other than chuckle at her lover's eagerness. The movement from her gasp and the chuckle made her pale breasts bounce in the dying firelight. Like spirits in the Dying Lands, the lovers' shadows waltzed along the charred stone walls.
Aia's next movement cleared everything from the dwarf's mind.
She unlaced Kili's trousers.
Before he could halt her, he was exposed to the girl. She did not meet his eyes, her gaze locked on his newly-bared member. Kili knew he needed to stop this before it got out of control, but he wanted to see the girl's reaction first.
Her eyes would not leave the erect member of her lover. He was quite large – larger than the other men she's seen bathing in rivers or being shooed from their houses in the night from their fuming wives – Aia couldn't help but wonder how many other women he's had before. It didn't bother her, she couldn't change it. She had his love now and she wanted to fully embrace it. Her deft fingers slipped to her own trouser laces after a few moments of staring at every crevasse, intent, bulge, quiver, and shadow that composed her lover's body. She brought her eyes to the laces she was untying when Kili's hand slipped into her view and covered her own hand: halting her movement.
"We can't, Aia."
Those three words took hold of her conscious and forced her stomach to her feet. Before she could think too hard on it, Kili continued.
"It's not proper, Love," his lean fingers scorched her chin as they lifted her head to look into his eyes, "I hope you know how much I want this, Aia," Kili said, glancing to his erect member. "But Dwarven customs say we cannot couple unless we are betrothed or married. We cannot risk a bastard."
The word pained Aia.
Bastard.
She knew Kili meant no offense, but she couldn't help cringing. The girl nodded and dropped her gaze to the throbbing pulse in his neck. It was calmed – for a dwarf – and after a few moments, it sped up.
What's he thinking?
As if he could read her mind, a murmur from Kili broke the silence.
"Aia." Grey met umber as they had so many times. "Marry me."
"Aia! Aia! Move! Aia!" The fatherly-stern voice of her favorite human was being used toward the other Men of Esgorath. The girl's head spun around until she spotted Bard smiling behind two fat guards who wouldn't budge under his shoves.
"Please, sirs, I'd like to see my friend, if you could move-" Aia tried to negotiate.
"Not moving unless the Master instructs." The guard's answer was short and clipped. Aia, luckily, was a patient woman. She stood from her seat between Kili and Bilbo on the small boat provided by the Master, set her foot onto the planks between the fat men and shoved her way through the two.
"Aia, what're you doing?" Bilbo's gentle voice questioned.
"I'm going to say good-bye to my friend," she answered, looking right at the guards. Aia wrapped her arms around Bard's neck and squeezed him tightly.
"Promise me you will be safe, Aia. Please promise me."
"I promised you I wouldn't let harm befall this," she pulled an elaborately-sculpted mithril pendant from her shirt and presented it to the Man, "I can't very well keep it safe if I'm hurt, can I?" She chuckled and hugged Bard once more; leaving a quick kiss on his cheek before turning away so he wouldn't see the tears that now pricked her eyes.
Before Bard could say another word, the boats began to depart, taking the girl and her Company to the place that could very well be their grave.
After an hour of utter silence other than that of the windy ambiance, Aia couldn't stand her anxious thoughts any longer so she got Balin's attention.
"Balin?"
The old dwarf looked up and smiled to the girl. "What can I do fer ya, Batùlon?"
"I think now would be a good time to have lessons of your language, do you agree?"
Balin's smile widened and Thorin perked up.
"Aye, if Thorin agrees, I suppose we could begin instruction. Thorin?" The Future King blinked slowly and nodded with the faintest of smiles.
"Very well. I suppose you will be understanding the language better than you will be forming it, so I will teach you the basics first.
'Thank you' is Akminrik zu."
"Ak-min-rik-zhu," Aia stumbled and blushed at the chuckles of the dwarves on her boat. She shoved Kili in the ribs, as he was the closest to her.
"Oof! Chicken's got talons." Kili pestered.
"Now, Aia, you call Kili uzùm." Another round of chuckles and it was Kili's turn to blush.
"What does that mean?"
"In this case, my dear, you'd say ma shandè, 'I don't understand.'"
"Ma shandè," Aia repeated.
"Uzùm means 'brute.'" Balin winked. "Now, basic words: Fili! Begin!"
Fili's head perked up from his knife-sharpening. "Mizùl – 'good luck'" Fili winked at the girl as she rolled her eyes and repeated the word.
"Good. Kili?" Balin called.
"How about Ma mahabhyùr rukhs katakhigeri?" Balin chuckled and nodded.
"I suppose it's helpful. Do you think you can repeat that, lass?"
Aia swallowed. "Mm.. ma maha-yer rukhs katageri?" She attempted. The dwarves each looked as though she spat on their graves. "Gods, have I said anything offensive?" Aia was bordering an anxiety attack.
"Only that our ancestors are slaving in the lowest layer of the hells, Chicken!" Thorin belted. Aia paled.
"Eru, I am so sorry. Please, find it in your hearts to forgive-"
"Aia, I was jesting. You said nothing of the sort," Thorin smiled, "you merely said it wrong, that's all."
"Bloody hells, you dwarves are going to be the death of me." Aia sighed, extracting chuckles from the dwarves and a few Men.
"Alright, alright. Let's try again, yes? 'ma maha-bhyùr rukhs kata-khigeri'" Balin pronounced each syllable slowly and Aia got it the second time. "Excellent! It means, 'do not teach an orc to stink,'" Aia chuckled and repeated it once more. "Now, Dwalin?"
Dwalin murmured a few words as he racked his thoughts and when he said his choice, his head shone in the daylight like a physical representation of his formed idea. "Bark." Aia once again repeated, and it was translated as "the ax of all axes." Quite Dwalin-esque.
Over the next few hours, each dwarf presented words to Aia, Balin – agânâl, "beginner" – Bofur – lifim, "musical instrument," said as he held up his flute – Bombur – ablûg, "food," was said with a reverence that Aia only heard in prayer – Bifur – malînh, which would not be translated for Aia, much to her confusion – Dori – gehyu, "dove" – Ori – kumath, "song" – Nori – tusith, "the hunter" – Gloin – baruf, a heartbreaking translation, "family." Gloin hardly spoke of his family, but when he did it was always a story of his boy Gimli's achievements – Oin – gamiel, "old" – and finally, Thorin, whose was the final translation of the boat ride, Batùlon. It was not translated for the poor curious girl, as the boats were stopped and the Men were impatient to go back to Esgorath.
As the Company ventured up the foothills of the Lonely Mountain, Balin had Aia repeat the words she learned in addition to kahornhizlu, "please," the major conjugations, and basic sentences. She had also requested that the dwarves only speak in Khuzdul, unless she needed a translation (which was quite often).
Aia had been attempting – and failing - her Khuzdul by accidentally asking Kili if he'd ever kissed her feet. The laughter that rang out was soon sobered by the company's arrival at Dale: a desolate, grey city that was nothing but char and bones. Thorin's good mood immediately vanished and Aia's heart clenched. Kili's warm hand snaked its way to the girl's waist and he held her. They both needed the comfort. Aia also wrapped her arm around Bilbo's shoulders, much to his liking, as the extra warmth was heaven to him. Thorin began praying in Khuzdul – Aia understood a few words here and there but not enough to catch the gist of the prayer. The Future King then stood and trudged on to the peak, only to be halted by Bilbo's small voice. The two exchanged a worrisome conversation about waiting for Gandalf, Aia was not paying attention, as she was focused on a small daisy between her feet. It was the only plant she'd seen on the entire mountain and it filled her with hope.
"Kili," she whispered, gesturing to the flower. The dwarf followed the girl's view to a white bud between miniscule fissures in the stone. He wanted to pick it and give it to her, but she stopped him. "Let it grow, Love. There will be a mountain full of them in a few short years if that one lives." Aia smiled at him and stayed in that spot protecting the flower until all the dwarves passed her.
"So innocent," Kili mused and kissed Aia's cheek. He had not left her side since they departed from Esgorath and Aia thought it was because he wanted to spend as much time with her as he could before they went into the mountain. Whatever the reason, Aia was happy for it.
Well here you are! Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Bifur's word, malînh, means "pleasure-woman". I chose between that and something gentle like "raindrops," or "dewy moss".
The songs I listened to while writing this, if anyone's interested, are:
Justin Timberlake's 20/20 album,
A Mikky Ekko playlist on 8tracks (highly recommended),
And some god ole Black Moth Super Rainbow.