Bofur looked up from the stack of papers, blinking his eyes wearily. Catching sight of a certain person though, perked him right up. There was no mistaking that sweetly rounded form that held his attention so well. The hatted dwarrow excused himself quickly and hurried to take the laden tray from the violet-eyed dwarrowdam.
Brunere didn't seemed surprised at his sudden appearance beside her. She smiled a bit shyly at him and nodded as she allowed him to take and carry the tray of meats, cheeses and breads. She held onto the covered pitcher of fruit juice. "I thank you."
The miner bobbed his head with a smile. "You're up late. Later than usual I mean. Not that I notice how late you usually stay up, only that I know you go to the healing halls early every day. Not that I'm the type who keeps up with unimportant stuff like …shit! Not that you're unimportant!" He turned left at the side hallway and then stopped when he realized that the dwarrowdam had turned right. He raised his brows at her in question hoping she wasn't thinking him a blooming idiot.
Brunere clucked her tongue lightly. "This way." Was her only remark.
Bofur knew that her room was in the other direction, and it occurred to him that now she knew that he knew that. Obligingly he followed her. "Busy day." He stopped his tongue from wandering further afield through sheer effort of will, hoping to salvage her image of him.
The violet-eyed dam smiled and nodded. "At least now you know the reasons for all of those holes you were worried about."
The hatted dwarf's chest expanded with pride, as her comment meant that she'd been paying attention to his ramblings about the work he was doing in Erebor. "Aye, that's true. Though now we have to find a way to hunt them down before they do any more damage."
Brunere headed up a flight of stairs, leaving Bofur to admire her form from behind as he followed appreciatively. She may not be the most outwardly beautiful dam he'd ever seen, but there was something about her that made him just want to hold her close on a cold winter's night. He sighed happily. Then blinked as he realized where they were. Where was she going? These were guest quarters. Near the outer walls.
The dwarrowdam stopped in front of a certain door and Bofur tried hard not to look surprised. This was Tauriel's room. Brunere turned and gave him a measuring look, then knocked on the door.
Sealyn Heavyaxe opened the door, not the tall she-elf with vibrant red hair whose room it actually was. Bofur's eyebrows climbed even higher.
"Here." Erelinde, the pretty blonde that Fili was enamored with, approached and gestured for him to give her the serving tray. She smiled sweetly at him and he found himself smiling right back without even thinking about it.
Bofur opened his mouth, though he was at one of those rare moments in his life that he wasn't sure what to say or ask. "I hope you all are enjoying the evening." It was an inane comment.
Sealyn moved aside to let Brunere into the room. She peered out at the hatted dwarf with a small smile. "Yes. We are, thank you." She bowed her head and Bofur returned the gesture even as the door began to shut between them, leaving him alone in the hallway.
The dwarrow stared at the door with a silly smile growing on his face. "Three dwarrowdams and a she-elf in one room. Will Erebor still be standing on the morrow?"
The door stilled while Sealyn peered out at him through the narrowed opening. Suddenly she grinned. "Are you going to be injured tomorrow?" She asked leadingly.
Bofur's breath caught. "Should I be?" He asked with dawning hope, though he couldn't see Brunere behind the Heavyaxe daughter.
Sealyn winked at him. "Perhaps at two hours past the noon meal?"
"Three!" Came a voice from within the room.
Sealyn shrugged. "Three hours past the noon meal? Can you manage to be injured around then?"
Bofur grinned suddenly, his smile nearly blinding as he chuckled. "Aye. I think that might be manageable."
"Good." Sealyn shut the door this time and Bofur found himself looking around gleefully, but with no one to share his news with. He bounded back down the stairs toward the meeting he'd abandoned. It was only a few minutes later that he was approaching the others, still hard at work.
Fili grumbled, catching sight of Bofur's return, a frown on his mobile face. Balin simply shrugged and shot his returning friend a look of supreme amusement. Leaving Brorgic Grimbasher to ignore the returning dwarrow as she rubbed his still sore leg which was stretched out on what had been Bofur's seat. And he didn't look like he was willing nor inclined to return the space on the bench either.
Bofur eyed the older mining engineer and didn't say a word, instead grabbing one of the chairs from a nearby table and dragging it noisily back to their table.
"Can we get back to this?" Brorgic groused in a raspy voice. "Those warning bells today were rung by a miner hearing tall, blond and too skinny calling for assistance."
Fili snorted at the description of the Mirkwood prince, still angry over the elf's assumption that Tauriel was his for the asking. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Would the red-haired female stay with Kili? He'd always been raised with the premise that elves weren't to be trusted, that their word wasn't worth the air that they used to speak the words aloud. Was Tauriel better than that? His brother thought so, certainly. But was Kili seeing true?
"The warning bell sequence was from the Iron Hills, not Ered Luin." Balin huffed and pointed at Bofur. "The information was all wrong. Sent us looking in the wrong direction. Had poor Fili running around the lower mining levels looking for workers caught with dangerous gas levels."
Fili grunted, his usual good mood no were evident. Feeling bombarded on all sides, he rolled his shoulders trying to force himself to relax his tension a bit.
Balin lifted up his quill and dipped it in the dark ink well. "We need to list all the warning signals from both Ered Luin and the Iron Hills, note where they differ."
"Pardon, but it's not just those two places." Brorgic complained. "I've tried to tell ye, but you're just going with the two most obvious choices."
"They're obvious for a reason." Balin pointed out patiently.
The Grimbasher shook his head as if in denial. "Ered Luin isn't ONE place. It's a large area with scattered settlements of dwarves, all with small to middling mining arrangements. Each tailoring their warning systems to their own needs. It's all going to be a mess."
"So we choose the Iron Hills bell language." Fili shrugged, wanting to be out of here. He needed someplace quiet to gather himself together. Or better yet? Find Erelinde and maybe play his fiddle for her while she crafted. Right now, that sounded ideal to him.
Bofur twisted his mouth in disagreement, shaking his head at the same time. "Nay, nay. Miners from the Iron Hills won't be as plentiful as those returning from exile from other places. Some yes, but not enough. I say we go with Ered Luin systems. Unless anyone here recalls which way they did it here in Erebor before the dragon?"
Brorgic groaned. "THAT list is what I can remember. But the list over there is what Balin recalls. They overlap for a lot, but not really."
Balin sighed heavily. "So. We keep compiling our lists, compare and choose the best way to go. I still say the Iron Hills system would be best. They're closer in size to Erebor than Ered Luin."
Bofur immediately protested that the size of the mine was irrelevant, it was a question of familiarity. Still, he couldn't stop from smiling.
Brorgic argued for a moment, then chuckled as he shook his head at Bofur. "Hard to rile a dwarrow when he's in courting mode and things are going well. Good news?" He pointed one knobby jointed finger at the hatted dwarf's soppy smile.
Bofur grinned even wider and shrugged, not commenting. Fili flashed him an irritated look. "Well, I want my own type of good news. Can we get finished with this? I missed escorting Erelinde to dinner." It was clear he was hoping to have a chance to see the beautiful blonde dam before retiring for the night.
Bofur laughed and shook his head. "Stay on here, you're missing naught. Beauty's not in her crafting room."
Fili blinked, leaning back and staring at his friend with suddenly cold blue eyes. "Oh?" Lately he'd been seeing a few Iron Hills dwarrow loitering about whenever he could manage to get Erelinde out from the crafting halls. It didn't matter that she never seemed to notice the attention, he did.
"No, no." Bofur held up his hands placatingly. "She's with Sealyn and Brunere. Just saw her with them."
Fili sighed, but his mood immediately lifting somewhat since he knew she was in safe hands. Though it did put a spike in his plans for the evening. He liked the dams well enough, but it was hard to court with them watching on. He gave a chagrined smile of disappointed amusement. "Ah well."
"And ….Tauriel." Bofur drew out the she-elf's name in a drawl, delighted by the surprised expressions on all the dwarrow's faces. "They're all together. Eating. Chatting." He wiggled his fingers together in front of him as if to denote busyness.
The blond crown prince stared a moment, his blue eyes showing he didn't quite know what to think. He turned and looked at his uncle's friend and advisor, but Balin didn't seem to know any more than he did. The white-bearded dwarf shrugged and shook his head, though he was smiling benignly.
"The elf-lass sought them out?" Brorgic asked, running his hands over his thick beard.
"Doubtful, they're all in her guest room." Bofur shrugged. "I guess we'll all just have to wait and see. With food and drink and settling in for a good visit. Friendly-like."
Balin shrugged. "We'll either hear about it, or we won't. We just have to be patient would be my guess."
"We are stone." Fili repeated the often used phrase of the Dwarves meant to convey they had infinite patience. Only …he wasn't sure how stone-like he felt at the moment. What were those females talking about?
o.o.o.o.o
o.o.o.o.o
Celeborn waggled a finger through the distressed fabric while Glorfindel shook his head in mock despair. "You keep losing clothing, my friend, and you might end up having to borrow from our guests." The golden haired warrior teased dryly.
Celeborn's eyebrow rose in mute derision to that comment.
Glorfindel was hardly deterred, however. "The pants would end somewhere around your knees, perchance. The sleeves maybe just at the elbow crease. It would be a most interesting appearance that you would make." He sipped from his wine, looking utterly at ease and lounging back in his chair looking almost boneless. The picture of lazy contentment.
"Acid water." The leader from Lothlorien felt the weakened threads of his once fine robe part and let another finger slip through the growing hole. "Of all the dangers I might have imagined upon coming here, the water turning acidic was not one of my thoughts."
Glorfindel ran a finger slowly around the rim of his wine glass. "Kuilaith did well, from what I saw. Keeping Elladan's head out of that water lest it contaminate that head wound further."
"Yes." Celeborn kept his answer short. He knew what the old warrior was getting at with his meandering words. While he'd not announced his feelings to their hosts, the silver-haired elven leader continued to have reservations about the newest member of his family. Though his reasons were dissipating quickly. "He wins me over faster than Elrond did." He admitted slowly.
Glorfindel's lips moved redolently into a smug smile. "Lord Elrond." He poked at the father-by-marriage of the Rivendell leader. "Your wife has accepted Kuilaith far more readily than I would have thought."
Celeborn considered the people involved even as he nodded. It was true that Galadriel was far more calculating than he was himself. That he was the one that acted out of heart and compassion while his wife kept herself back and made more informed decisions. He shook his head lightly. Here in this Dwarven kingdom, their roles seemed to be reversed.
"He is not as I would have thought." Celeborn said, his voice cautious.
"None of the dwarves are." The golden-haired elf pointed out without blinking, as if daring the elven leader to gainsay him.
Celeborn stared back at the ancient elf and sighed. "Perhaps."
Glorfindel nodded, pleased, even as the door opened without fanfare and the males turned to watch Lady Galadriel as she stood framed there.
Both male elves stood, though the golden-haired one bowed his head to her while the silver-haired one held out his hand in warm welcome.
"All is not well?" Celeborn finally asked, as his wife did not move to take his hand as she normally would.
Galadriel moved into the room while Glorfindel moved behind her, readying to leave the married couple alone. The Lady shook her head. "Stay, please."
Glorfindel turned his bright eyes upon the duo with some speculation. These were not his leaders, and he had no bond with them other than friendship that stretched out longer than many kingdoms have even existed. He slowly shut the door, staying inside the room and giving her another short nod of his head.
"Elladan? Kuilaith?" Celeborn asked, his face a mask of neutrality, though he clearly was worried to those who knew how to read him.
"Are fine and will return to full health quite soon." Galadriel informed them, easing the moment if only slightly.
Celeborn moved to the wine and lifted up an empty glass toward his wife, who inclined her head in acceptance. He poured for her graciously.
Glorfindel waited for the wine to be poured, offered and accepted before he licked his lips. "I presume it was you who was blocking Kuilaith's every thought from flowing forth like the Celduin river?"
Galadriel nodded her head very slightly in acknowledgment. "He left the doors wide open within himself."
"Dangerous." Celeborn noted. "But he is only in the beginning stages of learning. I thought it impressive that he was able to gather himself well enough to use this means to call for assistance."
"There was someone lurking in his mind."
Both males stilled at the new information. Celeborn and Glorfindel's eyes found one another as their nerves quickened with the unsettling thought.
Galadriel continued, her voice both lyrical and strangely disturbing as the tone turned sharpish. "This someone was new there, not entrenched and not embedded deep into his thoughts, motives or emotions."
Glorfindel started breathing again and he finished off the wine in his glass, though making no moves to replenish the refreshment.
Celeborn nodded slowly. "Someone who entered when he threw open his mind so thoroughly." His gaze was cold as he considered the options. "Mordor?"
"I believe someone held in that dominion, their body closer but their mind and soul already chained to the Dark One." Galadriel sighed unhappily.
"A dwarf?" By the tone of his voice Glorfindel showed that he did not believe his own guess.
Neither did Galadriel. "No. I could not place the origin, but the feel of the mind was not Dwarvish."
Celeborn stiffened with affront. "Elvish?" His mind raced. "Not one of us."
"No." The Lady of the Wood shook her head.
Glorfindel hissed suddenly, his eyes wide. "But he is a member of the White Council, who stands AGAINST all that is Mordor."
Frowning with clear disapproval, Celeborn shook his head. "Could he have been searching the lad's mind for intrusions the same as you?"
"Yes." Galadriel nodded sagely. "In fact, Saruman admitted the intrusion when I contacted him. He hid nothing from me."
Celeborn's eyebrows raised. If Saruman had been so straight forward, why did his wife sound unhappy? He knew better than to ask though, he simply waited for her to continue at her own pace.
The silence stretched but a few moments, though it seemed far longer. Finally, the Lady of Light looked away. "It bothers me that he heard and responded with an immediate search of Kuilaith's mind."
"Rather than hurrying to a physical rescue." Glorfindel clarified her words aloud as his mind tried to hurry and catch up with her.
"It would not be how Gandalf would have reacted, nor so the other wizards now in Arda." Galadriel's voice drawled out the words to show her confusion on how to take Saruman's actions.
Celeborn reached for the wine bottle and gestured for Glorfindel, but the warrior shook his head negatively. The silver-haired leader refilled his own glass, more to give himself time to organize his thoughts than out of need. "Saruman is the leader of the wizards." He speculated. "It could be that he is far more focused on Mordor as an enemy, than Kuilaith as an individual."
Glorfindel frowned. He had never liked leaders that put the big picture up before the people that would be affected. For him it was simple. There was a demon of flame and shadow coming after those you had sworn to protect. So you put yourself and your sword in the path of the Balrog in order to stop him. He shook his head grimly. He'd won that battle, but he'd also died.
"I was sent back to defend against Mordor."
Galadriel and Celeborn turned to stare at the golden-haired warrior of old. The dragon-slayer had never said to what purpose the Valar had gifted him with another life and a return to Arda.
Glorfindel cleared his throat slightly. "I thought that Mordor was defeated, of course. But as Sauron rose from a position as a servant to Morgoth then my next foe would be someone who likewise had once served Sauron. I did not expect that the Deceiver had actually survived to resurface once more."
Hearing the name of the original Black Foe made Celeborn uncomfortable, but he did not interrupt.
"I chose to stay in Erebor for love of the sons of Elrond. For amusement. For friendship. And even a growing appreciation for a race and culture I had never before considered." Glorfindel's smile turned grim. "I stay now because I feel this place is important in the coming battles. Erebor will not become Gondolin."
As speeches went, it was moving, even to such ancient worthies as Galadriel and Celeborn. Both bowed to Glorfindel deeply, showing him utter respect, and even love.
"Would that the mine not serve as your new tomb." Celeborn covered his heart with his hand as he rose out of his bow.
"I would only return and raid it for my sword." The golden haired warrior teased. He sobered and looked over at Galadriel. "I serve here."
She nodded to him.
"Do I face off against a wizard?" It was a pointed question.
Galadriel took his worry quite seriously and then reluctantly shook her head. "I think not."
"Gondolin was lost by betrayal from within." Lord Celeborn pointed out the obvious, referring to the treachery of Maeglin.
The Lady of Light held up one hand, asking for patience. "I have no reason to distrust Saruman and every reason to believe him wholly committed to our cause."
"But?" Celeborn and Glorfindel spoke at the same time, shooting each other grimly amused glances.
"Nothing. Nothing." Galadriel waved her hand as if swatting something irritating and flying from around her face. It was an odd gesture for one so usually graceful. "I did not like finding him lurking within the mind of my daughter's son's son."
Celeborn nodded carefully, though he would never truly forget that his spouse did not fully like the White Wizard. Her mild reactions had been known to turn into something far larger as time continued. He would make note.
"Will you continue your lessons with young Kuilaith? Now that he has learned to shout mentally?" Glorfindel tried to channel the subject onto safer grounds.
"More than ever." The Lady smiled secretly. "Especially now that he has seen the light of the trees."
Celeborn blinked. Glorfinel stared. Both males waited, but she did not elaborate, simply stared back at the two of them with gloating.
"He saw your memories?" Celeborn finally asked, knowing how deeply she would have had to immerse herself into the mixed-blood prince's mind to reset his defenses. "He had that capability?"
Galadriel met her husband's gaze straight on. "He bathed in the light of the trees and heard the starsong. He shivered in the cold of the Helcaraxe. Fortunately we did not remain so melded for long."
The golden-haired warrior opened his mouth, but found he had nothing to say. He looked down at his empty wineglass and decided now was the time for replenishment.
"He saw these things?" Celebron tried to clarify.
"Kuilaith awoke shivering, a cover of frost on his eyelashes." Galadriel's eyes sparkled as she passed the wine bottle to an unsettled Glorfindel without his asking.
Celeborn shook his head, not believing what he knew had to be true. His wife would not make light of such things. "He is but a mortal!" The silver-haired elvish leader protested sharply.
"Mortal, perhaps." Glorfindel set aside the now empty bottle and held up his full glass in a salute to the Lady of the Wood. "But it appears that Kuilaith is more than the sum of his ancestors."
"The potential is there. If he'll get over being afraid of the Eldar light now awakened within him." Galadriel spoke dryly.
Celeborn stiffened suddenly. "Does Saruman know?"
"No." Galadriel sounded very sure. "He dismisses Kuilaith as nothing more than the fruit of a needed alliance. Unimportant other than as a bridge between elves and dwarves."
"And you are not going to inform him that his opinion is wrongful." Glorfindel guessed, mollified when Galadriel nodded that he was correct. "You're not going to tell King Thorin either."
Celeborn twisted his mouth in concern. "This might be best staying within this room." Meaning to include both twin sons of Elrond. "The less who know, the safer Kuilaith remains."
Glorfindel frowned suddenly. "Why am I in this room?" He asked a bit harshly.
"Because my husband will be returning to Lothlorien. He needs to be there to protect our land and our people from the incursions of Mordor."
Celeborn nodded gamely. "Arwen will need to return with me."
"Elrohir has been making noises about returning North to continue training the Rangers." Glorfindel pointed out.
"I will speak to him." The silver-haired elf lord spoke up. "He will stay here. There is no question of Elladan's residency. Not while his son remains within this kingdom."
Glorfindel suddenly chuckled. "She might be doing you a favor, Lord Celeborn."
The leader from Lothlorien looked up, raising a single eyebrow in question.
"You do seem to be running out of clothing. A trip home might be just the thing for you …and your wardrobe." Glorfindel raised his wineglass, laughing.
Galadriel sighed, but was smiling.
o.o.o.o.o
o.o.o.o.o
"What kind of cookie is this?" Tauriel asked cautiously, peering at the plate and its circle of baked goods.
"Sugared spice cookies." Brunere smiled. "Don't worry if you'd not tried them before. They're actually a Man recipe. We lived in a human settlement since 'adad and his parents fled the dragon."
Tauriel stilled, not sure how to react. That was happening a lot tonight. Things would be easy, then awkward, then easy again. It was a very strange evening.
Sealyn cocked her head slightly to one side. Her astute mind working out the timeline. "You were part of Thranduil's army when the dragon attacked."
The army that turned away rather than offering help or aid.
Tauriel truthfully shook her head. "I was stationed along the northern borders of the Mirkwood as goblins had been raiding the area. I did not learn of what had transpired until months later." She peered over at the young dwarrowdams, who had not yet been born at that time. "I do sorrow for the suffering caused by the dragon." And the elves …her words were unspoken but felt.
Sealyn watched the tall she-elf a moment, then nodded. "This is a new start. For us all."
Erelinde stood, stretching her arms up overhead with a grin. "Alright. Say you walk into a room. There is a male that you like as a friend only." She pointed to the right. "And a male you want no words with."
Tauriel straightened and pointed to the indicated areas. "For the one I like as a friend, I brush his shoulder with my hand. For the one I don't want to speak with, I acknowledge with a glance but stay away."
"If he approaches you?" Brunere added.
Tauriel smiled glumly. "Skewering him with my blade would be too much?"
Sealyn laughed so hard her eyes watered a bit and she waved her hands at Erelinde.
The white-blonde twitched her lips in suppressed humor. "Perhaps a tiny bit too much."
"Alright then, I gesture like this." Tauriel held her right hand in front of her, with the palm facing away and toward anyone who'd approached her. She swept the hand across her body from the height of the opposite shoulder and down to her right hip.
Brunere clapped in approval. "Yes!"
"If he persists, you might get away with drawing your blade and baring your teeth." Sealyn would have sounded apologetic if she wasn't still fighting the giggles. "Just don't draw blood but for the most egregious of circumstances."
Brunere nodded in agreement. "Now. To greet someone whom you are interested in, but has not yet gifted you with a courting bead?" She pointed at Tauriel's nashatal braid.
Tauriel placed a hand over her heart and then up to her lips. "Is this Khuzdul?"
"Partly." Brunere pushed off the question, though she was pragmatic enough to know the elf would need to learn the Dwarven secret language including the hand signs. That is, if there was the wedding that was seemingly a foregone conclusion.
Erelinde picked up a cookie, nibbling on it as she watched. "Alright. How would you greet the King?" She smiled and nodded as Tauriel gave an informal bow. "And a family member?"
"I have no family here." Tauriel pointed out the obvious.
Sealyn's eyebrows rose and she shook her head. "Bifur." She pointed out the warrior's braid and bead on the opposite side of the elf's hair from her nashatal braid.
The red-head paused, looking appalled. "Have I been offending him?" She hadn't been making special gestures toward the dwarven warrior.
Brunere shook her head. "He's shown no offense. So I think he probably knows you don't realize how to greet him properly. But …" She made a hand sign that involved touching the thumb to the ring finger. "Touch this to the side of your head, the ear is best. It's a greeting. But if you're feeling very warmly, you can touch this signal to his ear."
Tauriel stopped, her mind racing. "I have never seen this done." Were the dwarrowdams playing with her?
Sealyn shook her head. "It's not done among the males. And it's not done all the time, even for us females. You don't go around saying 'good morning' every time you see the same person. Especially in close quarters. It's an informal formal kind of thing."
"Informal formal." Tauriel repeated, feeling utterly lost. Then she sucked in a harsh breath. "If I marry Kili, will I have to do that to the king?"
Sealyn stilled, throwing a look over at Brunere, who shrugged and glanced over at Erelinde. But the blonde didn't look like she knew the answer either as she shook her head and shrugged. "Well now. I suppose you'll have to clarify that after the wedding."
"It is not decided yet that there will be a marriage." Tauriel didn't want to speak on what might be, in case it did not come to pass.
Sealyn blew off the comment as inconsequential. "That prince will marry you, have no doubts. It's on you if there will or won't be a wedding."
"And the king, Kili's father, his mother, his brother and …"
Brunere waved off the elf's litany. "Weddings aren't decided by families, not traditionally. But by the couples."
Tauriel crossed her arms, looking unsure. "Are you telling me that King Thorin and Elladan, son of Lord Elrond will have NO say?"
Erelinde blushed and then shrugged. "We're not used to royal couples. Technically they shouldn't have a say."
Brunere patted Tauriel on the back as she walked over to the taller she-elf. "King Thorin would have tossed you out of this mountain if he was completely against you marrying his sister-son." She didn't mention Elladan, because she didn't know him nor could she make a guess on his reactions.
"Let's get back to what we DO know." Sealyn steered them all back to the practical. "To greet Kili, who does wear your nashatal bead, while you wear his courting clasp …then you would approach him …how?"
Tauriel eyed the dwarrowdams and hoped desperately that they weren't having a game at her expense. She rose up and leaned toward Sealyn, putting her cheek next to the dam's with maybe two finger-lengths distance between them.
Brunere grinned and Erelinde sighed happily. "Yes." The white-blonde approved. "And after you two are married then you would touch cheeks upon greeting each other."
The she elf looked first at one of the lasses, then in turn at each of the others. "None of you wear this braid." Tauriel reached up and flicked the nashatal braid and its accompanying beads.
Sealyn shrugged. "That is in our futures. Once we have established which males we might be interested in being courted by. It's not necessary before betrothal, but widely used." She leaned in as if to convey a secret. "Brunere will wear one soon, perhaps tomorrow."
"Not tomorrow!" The violet-eyed dam shook her head in wide-eyed denial. "Too soon! Tomorrow is just a walk."
"A walk in your best dress." Erelinde winked. "Which you asked me to mend the hem. It's ready and back in your room already."
"Thank you." Brunere settled back with a weather eye on the two dwarrowdams she knew might still say something to embarrass her. "And it's my second best dress."
Sealyn laughed. "Will you wear your prettiest bra?"
"NO!" Brunere made a cross face at her friend who was having fun at her expense.
"What is a bra?" Tauriel asked, shocking all three dwarrowdams right down to the marrow in their bones. Silence.
Finally, Elrelinde coughed to get the red-head's attention and pointed at the elf's bosom. "An undergarment for support." She paused for a moment. "Elves have a different name for such an item?"
Tauriel looked down at her chest, which swelled far less obviously than any of her three companions in the chamber. "Why does it need support?"
Brunere nearly choked on her own tongued, coughing and sputtering while Sealyn stared. The inky-haired dam sighed. "I don't know if I should be jealous or not."
Tauriel felt, and looked, confused.
Erelinde blew out an exaggerated breath and mimicked the shape of a much rounder form. Then moved her hands up and down as if cupping something heavy. "Support, to make you more comfortable. To keep it from hurting if you run …"
"Or dance." Brunere offered, still coughing a bit.
"Or anything." Sealyn sounded a resigned and a bit envious.
Tauriel peered at the three dams. The differences between female dwarves and elves were quite obvious. Beyond the height and facial hair difference, there were the curves. The red-head's face flushed as she realized that there were practical concerns with having a rounded figure that she'd never considered. "They hurt?" She sounded awed and upset for the dams.
Sealyn laughed and then shrugged. "Can hurt. Which is why we wear support. But the males like the curves."
Erelinde nodded ruefully, recalling the host of dwarrow who'd stared at her generous bosom over the years. "Yes they do."
"Fili does." Teased Brunere, drawing a huffy look from her white-blonde friend. "Well he does."
"And Bofur doesn't?" Erelinde pointed out the obvious. "His eyes follow you everywhere."
Tauriel didn't mention that the hatted miner's eyes more often than not were on Brunere's heart shaped bottom than anywhere else.
Round. Tauriel couldn't help but notice that all three of these dwarrowdams were generously proportioned as well as being strong and basically slender. Not in comparison to Elves or Men, but much more so than the dwarrows she'd met. "Male dwarves like these curves?"
Sealyn's smile disappeared. "Kili likes your curves as they are. He is completely in love with you, and anyone standing within eye's reach can see that."
Brunere suddenly laughed and when everyone turned to stare at her she shrugged helplessly. "Perhaps we need to make Tauriel some bras, not that she needs them, but to push what she has up and out. Make Prince Kili really wake up fast."
"Why would he be asleep?" Tauriel asked, then stilled as incredulous looks turned her way. "What?"
"Not wake up, as in the morning. But …wake up." Sealyn sounded hopeful that the elf would understand.
Doomed to disappoint her new friend, Tauriel shrugged. "As if from a nap?"
"No. From stone." Erelinde sounded a bit choked, her sky-blue eyes round as plates. "Stone." She repeated, as if that clarified everything.
Tauriel shook her head to show she was still at sea.
Sealyn looked over at Brunere and pinned her with a silent plea to speak up.
The violet-eyed dam shrugged helplessly. "Why me?" She squeaked.
"You work in the healing craft!" Erelinde supplied urgently, not wanting to have to explain this to the pretty elf.
o.o.o.o.o
o.o.o.o.o
"Wake up you lazy, motherless clump of sod."
Elladan slitted his eyes open to glare at his grinning twin brother. "You're motherless too." He bit out the words grimly, though without any volume to his voice he still winced at the sound.
"When do you leave for the North?" Elladan asked pointedly.
Elrohir frowned slightly and shook his head, his dark hair moving smoothly around his face and neck. "The Lady informs me that I'm staying."
Elladan stilled at the cautious phrasing. "She doesn't command us."
The younger of the twins by perhaps half-an-hour shrugged. "You would have me gainsay our mother's mother?" He asked with both feigned and real incredulity.
Hearing both what was said and what was implied, Elladan grunted up at his twin. "Did she say why?"
"No." Elrohir shrugged. "Nor did she need to do so."
No. Elladan understood. There was Galadriel, the beloved mother of their mother and there was Galadriel, the Lady of Light and a being of mystical beauty, wisdom and knowledge. He could well guess which one 'told' Elrohir he was to stay in Erebor.
Not trying to seem too obvious about it, Elladan cast his eyes around the room while trying not to move his aching head.
Elrohir grinned. "Kuilaith was sent to bed. He kept falling asleep and we were all afraid he'd either fall out of the chair or wake you up snoring."
Hiding his disappointment, Elladan tried to smile.
Not fooled, Elrohir reached out and caught his twin's hand. "He managed to send out a distress call and it wore him down right to the core of his being."
Elladan's smile immediately stopped. What did his brother mean by a distress call?
"He was worried that since he has no finesse and no ability to direct his call, and that it was strong enough to reach every elf, that your concussion was worsened. By him."
The elf father licked his lips and grimaced at the parched feeling in his mouth. "Did he make it worse?"
"Does it matter?" Elrohir countered and moved to offer his twin a sip of cold, spring water without having to be asked.
Elladan gratefully drank the water, remembering to go slowly as his father would have admonished. When he put his head back down on the pillow it took a moment for the little dwarven war hammers in his brain to stop pounding so loudly.
"Nuluin thinks you were still unconscious when Kuilaith let loose his mental lungs. So no, it did you no harm. Only good."
"It would not matter." The elder twin confirmed. "He really was able to call for assistance? With his mind?"
Elrohir nodded and grinned widely. "Near knocked me on my ass." He sobered and stared at his brother. "While you were out he called you 'da'. Kuilaith was terribly worried about you."
Elladan's gray eyes sparked with interest, pleased.
"Prince Legolas is in Erebor."
A little taken aback by the dull tone in his twin's voice, Elladan stilled. He eyed his brother for a long moment. "I saw him before the floor collapsed."
"He has expressed interest in courting our Tauriel."
Elladan blinked rapidly at the possessive turn of phrase. "She is not ours." He pointed out smoothly, as if unsure how his own twin would react to the denial.
"She is." Elrohir smiled in a way that was more the baring of his teeth. "I agree that I perhaps did not see her so, though I should have."
Elladan's jaw clicked shut as his mind raced on what possibly could have happened since he'd passed out.
Elrohir did not make him ask. "Legolas mentioned that sometimes you don't know what you have until it's gone. I don't want that feeling for my nephew."
"He's a child." Came the immediate protest.
The younger brother sighed and sank down into a nearby chair. "No. I feel you are wrong brother. He is an adult by over half his blood, by their reckoning. He is a trained warrior and hunter. Perhaps not as well trained as an elfling, but more so than all of the Men we start with before turning them into Rangers."
Elladan's gray eyes met his brother's near identical gaze. One accusatory and the other conciliatory.
"I know you missed your son's childhood. But you cannot cling to an image of what is not really there." Elrohir sounded apologetic but firm. "He is an ale-drinking, sword and bow wielding, courting young prince. Not a child."
Elladan refused to answer, turning his gaze up toward the ceiling. He wanted to reject his brother's premise out of hand.
"He is growing out of his clothing already. His beard even looks a bit darker and fuller, though it may never really grow as a dwarf might want." Elrohir paused. "Cirdan the Shipwright has a beard. Kuilaith will not be the only bearded elf."
"Cirdan doesn't name us elves. He is kind and accepting, but goes to great lengths to refer to us as 'sons of Elrond' and not elves." Elladan said softly. "To him we are related, but a separate race."
"He loves us still." Elrohir pointed out. "As we do him."
"What will he deem Kuilaith to be?" The wounded father asked.
"Again. Does it matter? It is funny that you should mention Cirdan." Elrohir took a deep beath and then spoke. "Galadriel sent out messages to him."
Elladan finally turned at stared at his twin again. "How?"
"King Thorin lent her some ravens." Elrohir shrugged. "Can you imagine the look on The Shipwright's face when he gets a message from Dwarvish means?"
Elladan coughed out a sudden laugh, then winced at the pain this caused. Finally he sighed. "I take it she is not sending out birth announcements to the other elvish rulers?"
Elrohir shrugged. "She is locked away with Glorfindel and Lord Celeborn. Who knows?"
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"What answers do you seek from Cirdan?"
Lady Galadriel, lost in her own musings, turned at looked at her husband. An elf she had fallen in love with a lifetime ago, and it never ceased to amaze her how he could fill her heart. She smiled.
Celeborn's smile answered hers. Human lifetimes they had spent together, many times and generations over. And it still seemed like it was all new between them.
"Nothing. Perhaps everything." Galadriel answered, and not answered.
Celeborn, long used to his wife's ways, shook his head. "You don't know what it means that Kuilaith could feel the reality of your memories."
The Lady thought about that for a very long time, then nodded. "It is true."
The silver-haired leader sat down across from his wife, gathering her hands in his own. "Cirdan is not kin. You seek his advice for he has no stake in what is happening."
"All have stake with Mordor as our enemy."
"You know of what I mean." Celeborn admonished lightly.
Galadriel's hands squeezed his briefly, even as she nodded. "He can speak objectively on Kuilaith as he has never met him, and as you say, is no blood kin of mine."
"The lad is mortal."
"Bodily."
Celeborn let go of her, sitting upright in abject shock. "You seek a place for him on those shores? He is mortal, you know that too well."
"Is his soul? Is the body too mortal, but the soul …could it be Eldar in nature?"
"You mean to ask." He closed his eyes in resignation. "You yourself have been banned from going West, so you seek another to do your asking."
"That has a goodly chance of being changed. We shall see." Galadriel replied smoothly. "Cirdan is wise. He will not do this asking for me if he feels it unnecessary."
"I could have asked." Celeborn offered, knowing before he did so that she would not have tasked him with this. He was too close to her. "He may be denied."
"He has felt the warmth of the Trees. He has lived the bitter cold of the Helcaraxe. Those are not small things."
Celeborn sat back, considering the truth. Those were indeed not small things.
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