Lord Elrond, resting after a vigorous ride with his young charge and a day spent teaching tracking, looked up from the book he was reading. He frowned, something teasing his senses.
Estel, the young human king he was raising, glanced up as his mentor did. His soft and smooth cheeks showed no hint of a beard, not yet, though his eyes were already old despite his lack of years. "My lord?"
The elven leader smiled with true fondness, even as he stood and stretched. "Come, let us ready ourselves for supper."
"Is anything wrong, sir?" Estel stood eagerly yet trying to show restraint, mimicking the elf's posture and stance, though a small grumbling sound from his belly betrayed him.
"A scent on the wind, a trill from the birds." Lord Elrond frowned. "A storm is coming, though we will be spared I believe."
The young human lifted his head and sniffed the wind, though he merely looked mildly puzzled. The coming of a storm did not usually bother his erstwhile surrogate father.
Lord Elrond smiled and gestured for the lad to lead the way toward supper. He did not mention that he felt as if something, or someone, was stirring up the storm. He wondered though, who was taking the naturally developing weather and feeding it into something of a frenzy. And why?
o.o.o.o.o
o.o.o.o.o
Dwalin entered the throne room, his eyes finding Dain quickly. He silently nodded his head at the King Under the Mountain to indicate that he was prepared to leave for Isengard.
"Ah! My friend."
At the familiar, yet unexpected voice, the bald warrior slowed and stopped. His eyes turned from the king to scan the room, from one corner a certain person stepped out of the shadows helpfully. His face broke into a relieved and welcoming grin. "Gandalf! I did not know you had arrived!"
"Just so, just so." The gray-maned wizard smiled gently, though with true warmth. "Or just arrived, I should so say."
"From where and to where, is what he will not say." Balin spoke up cautiously, sending a glance over toward the King Under the Mountain.
Dwalin's eyes found Dain again and realized the king wasn't looking particularly happy. He realized that his monarch wasn't too thrilled at the wizard not sharing information freely.
"I hear you are about to retire." Gandalf spoke gently and with a completely open expression that Dwalin trusted not one bit. Here was a wizard used to keeping his own council.
Dwalin smiled warily, though he nodded. "I feel my age to my marrow, and the seasoning has left the meat." He hedged. Did Gandalf know, or suspect, where he might be heading? The old wizard had been one of the persons Dis had turned to in order to save her children. But did that mean that the pointy-hatted bastard knew where the heirs were living right now?
"I wish you would stay, my old friend, but I quite understand. Yes, quite." Gandalf's words were mild, and his beatific smile gave nothing away. Dwalin mentally cursed.
"He's staying a while." Dain said shortly, drawing a surprised look from the bald warrior. As far as he was aware there was no bad blood between the king and the wizard, not exactly. "Seems there are bad winter storms to the south and west."
"Terrible storms." Said Gandalf quite mildly. "Though it shouldn't make the journey here to the Lonely Mountain. No, it only affects us travelers you see."
Travelers. Dwalin grunted with sudden understanding of the king's mood. To the Southwest lay Isengard. As for Brookshire, that town was more directly westerly in direction, quite a distance from the White Wizard's tower.
"Well, that leaves me here as well then." Dwalin commented dryly. "Winter storms even this late in the season are not to be trifled with." His silent message was for the king.
Dain frowned, nodding surreptitiously. Whatever plans he had for Dis to be taken to safety was forestalled at the moment at least. "So, it's true then that wizards don't control the weather?" This was asked almost hopefully.
Gandalf spread his hands in supplication and bowed his head toward the current King Under the Mountain. "We have no power to stop nor start a storm, nor any ability to control what weather does."
Dwalin stared at the gray-maned wizard, hearing something …lacking in Gandalf's usually warm voice. "There is something you are not telling us." He accused lightly.
Balin snorted, then laughed. "That has ever been so."
o.o.o.o.o
o.o.o.o.o
Fili met the eyes of one of his guardsmen along the town walls. The human's limpid eyes flicked upwards and the blond followed his gaze. The tall form of the elf was clearly visible, his long dark hair playing in the breeze.
Climbing up to the top walkway along Brookshire's defensive walls, Fili looked around with some satisfaction. The work of replacing the barely functional wooden walls with sturdier stone was moving apace, despite the winter weather. The calendar said that spring was a ways off and snows still held sway this close to the Misty Mountains. Even so, the work was going well. Orcish raids and attacks had a way of motivating workers, and prying loose stiff fingers on merchant's purse strings.
Hearing him approach, Erestor turned and looked at Fili, his expression unreadable. "The plan was to leave on the morrow."
The blond dwarf sniffed the air and shook his head. "I'm thinking not. Unless you want to swim out of here through an ocean of snow."
"Ah. So the trees and the grass speak to the Dwarves as well as the Elves?"
Fili's bland expression soured a moment as he pulled a frown. "Enigmatic elves." He muttered darkly, then shrugged. "The air. I can smell a storm coming. There was a recent ring around the moon, and the cloud deck is lowering with a temperature drop anyone can feel."
Erestor raised both of his eyebrows and looked up at the sky as he nodded. "Also, the trees tell me."
"Prideful, unbending …" Fili groused and shook his head. "Just admit it, trees don't actually have voices."
"Not as such, but we hear them."
"They don't have voices." Fili said stubbornly. "Not actual out-loud speaking voices. No trees have that."
Ents." The elf named the obvious, just to be contrary. Though that particular race hadn't been seen in over a millennia.
Fili laughed suddenly, pointing at the elf. "Ah, but Ents aren't actually trees themselves. They are tree shepherds and only resemble the trees they are charged with!"
Surprise flowed swiftly over the elf's expression and too late Fili realized that he was betraying the education he'd been given by Balin and Thorin among others. Quickly he gave a bashful smile and winked. "Or so the tales all say. Nursery rhymes for dwarflings really. Made up nonsense."
Consternation, confusion, and perhaps a touch of suspicion. That was what the blond prince saw pass through Erestor's eyes as the elf spoke. "I assure you, they are real. Rare. If they remain in Arda, that is."
Fili let the conversation lapse out of self-defense. Sometimes he didn't even know what he should or should not admit to knowing, what was common knowledge and what wasn't.
Beside him, Erestor seemed poised to ask something new when the elf stiffened instead.
Attention caught, Fili looked in the direction that the elf was watching. "What?"
"Visitors."
The blond warrior frowned. Brookshire was on a trade route, even if not a main one, it was a well-used one at least. However. It was winter and snow still covered the region, though temperatures had allowed some melting over the past three days since the Yule celebrations.
Travel in winter was not usually heavy, though it did exist, mostly out of necessity. Yet it was only common sense to be looking at who would choose to travel at this time of year. Fili snuck a glance at the elf at his side. Present company, and the Rangers with him, included.
"What is it?" Erestor must have caught the glance and wondered at the meaning.
The blond prince-in-exile shrugged. "Just wondering what nefarious things winter travelers could be up to."
The dark-haired elf smiled slightly. "Us included, of course."
"Indeed." The blond didn't even try to hide his thoughts. Fili knew the elves had questions about he and his brother, especially with Kili married to one of theirs. Questions he had no intention of addressing. Still, it was good to let them know he didn't trust them completely either. "Can you make them out?"
"Not in detail, you?" Erestor asked.
Fili grunted and shrugged. "I can't even see them yet." He admitted with some reluctance.
In the end it took until late afternoon before a small band of humans approached Brookshire's walls, looking exhausted and encrusted with snow. Their horseflesh was pitifully cared for, drawing disapproving looks from the town guards and Rangers alike.
To the travelers just arriving, it might look like everyone was relaxing, joking and casual. But every Ranger just happened to be near the main gates when the visitors arrived, and the town guards were all alert and watchful.
The two elves, Arrenis and Erestor, were not in evidence. Though Fili knew without being told that they were around somewhere. He even suspected that Tauriel was out here with her bow, since her dog was running around.
Fili grimaced as Cowardly poked at the piled up snow on the edges of the path, as if afraid to get his paws any more wet than they already were. He felt Kili move up beside him on his left. "Couldn't talk her into staying at home?" He didn't have to ask if his brother's wife was out here, though he could not see her.
"Says she feels cooped up, imprisoned." Fili could hear his younger brother's discomfort and unease.
"We're here. Naught will come to happen to her." The blond assured Kili. "And she has her watch dog." He mentioned, his voice devoid of inflection.
The brothers both watched Cowardly sniff the snow, sneeze, then trot over to tremble next to Kili's leather-clad legs. He looked straight down at the shivering mutt and sighed unhappily. "She couldn't find a more pitiful creature?" He asked rhetorically.
"She obviously has a soft spot for the weak and wretched." Fili said, then grinned outrageously just as Riccard, one of the human rangers moved up to join them. "She married you after all." Heroically he kept from laughing as Kili said something extremely foul, sending dark looks at his older brother's back while Fili walked away deliberately.
Kili shot a challenging look at the human Ranger, but the man simply smiled, shook his head and held out his hands as if to show he was innocent of all wrong-doing.
"They say they are travelling south, through to Rohan as they have kin there. That they flee the growing menace in the north." Riccard's voice was careful, too careful.
Kili grunted. "You don't believe them?"
Riccard shrugged. "I don't know. They claim to be travelling from Ered Luin, of which I am unfamiliar. That they just recently came through the High Pass and it was still open, which I do know to be true at least."
"Ered Luin?" Unease pricked the dark-haired prince. "I would hear this accent."
The Ranger gave his companion a hopeful look. "You know the area?"
"I have known some who have lived there before." Temporized Kili just as his brother wandered back over to them. "Elder?"
"Younger." Acknowledged Fili.
"They claim they are from Ered Luin."
Fili frowned, his mustache beads dipping low as he shook his head. "Not with those accents. Nor with the ink I see stamped on their hands, what little is visible beneath gloves not nearly as ragged as the horses they push."
Riccard stirred with disquiet. "Easterling marks? Could they be escaped peoples?" He said, mentioning slaves that from time to time broke free and fled.
"Since when have the Easterlings pressed farther than Gondor?" Fili countered, shaking his head. "And they seem to be travelling in the wrong direction, if that is the case. As far as Easterling slavers, Ered Luin is far from their reach. I suppose some could have travelled as far as Minas Tirith, raiding there, but it seems a bit much to swallow. Nor do these Men have the right sounds in their mouths for the Blue Mountains."
"What is their wish?" Kili asked, looking over the group as they talked with the town guards.
"Shelter for the night, perhaps longer. They say a storm is coming." Fili shrugged as if to say that at least was true enough.
"I don't care for them." Kili groused, something seemed off about this group. Beside him, Riccard sniffed in agreement, his arms crossed.
Fili shrugged. "They have coins enough. But I don't know about space here. Brookshire's inns are still full. The council rooms are taken by the Rangers."
"Private residences then?" Kili pursed his lips. "I don't like the thought of them spreading out throughout Brookshire. I'd rather keep them together in one area."
"Agreed." Fili grimaced, then sighed. "Which is why Dern, Mirrenda, and I are offering beds to the Rangers." He looked up apologetically to Riccard. "Giving the council rooms to the strangers."
"A most generous ….offer." The Ranger answered with a depreciating smile. He knew they wouldn't be welcomed into private homes so easily if it weren't out of necessity. Then again, he approved the caution. "I accept."
Deven, one of the human guards of the town, trotted up eagerly toward Fili. "They don't seem entirely happy being housed in the council chambers, preferring an inn or someone's home."
"Oh?" Kili grinned, though not with geniality as was his usual wont. "Double the guards on the walls. Add patrols around the council chambers as well."
Deven blinked, then nodded in understanding. He didn't ask questions as he bundled off to see the orders carried out.
Riccard nodded, peering closely at the new arrivals who were being very quiet and not even really speaking among themselves. Why?
o.o.o.o.o
o.o.o.o.o
"Just in time to eat."
Arrenis shook out his cloak what was obviously a utility room for this type of purpose. The falling snow was so thick outside, with the winds so heavy, that he felt encrusted. The dwarf at his side was looking no better.
Coppernose the Younger pulled off a thick outer layer that looked like it might keep its shape from snow and ice alone.
The hatted dwarf that he'd seen before, introduced as Bofur, smiled gamely at the duo in welcome. "How was the watch?" He asked, looking warm and comfortable in his leathers that hadn't yet been out in the evening's storm.
Younger grinned and shrugged, pulling off his thick, fur-lined boots. "Can't see a damned thing. If anything is out there moving, I could not tell."
"Neither could I." Arrenis admitted as he too divested himself of wet and snow encrusted outerwear. Though at least his teeth weren't chattering like some of the humans that had been outside with them.
"But the next rotation is out there?" Bofur asked with some concern.
The brunet dwarf nodded grimly. "Double the guards, though the watch is shortened by two hours so no one has to be outside for too long. Elder is making the rounds about the wall now."
Arrenis nodded, looking up to catch Erestor's eyes as the dark-haired elf looked on watchfully. "When is your watch?"
"Not for another two hours." Erestor replied. "It's a good system that the Elder Coppernose has set up."
"Are we really expecting trouble?" Bofur asked. "I didn't get a chance to see the new-comers like'n you all did." He'd been trading with some neighbors at the time.
"Something was off about them." The brunet dwarrow grumped, walking into the warmth of the kitchen with a happy sigh. "You said something about food?"
"So, are we watching the goings on IN the town, or OUTSIDE the town?" Bofur asked.
"Both." Arrenis supplied as the brunet dwarrow he'd shared a turn on the town walls with sniffed the roasting meat over the hearth fire. "Though it is too bad that we can't actually traverse around outside the walls. The storm has decreased visibility tremendously."
Bofur nodded, but it seemed his expression turned carefully blank as his eyes sought out the younger Coppernose brother.
Erestor asked. "What?" Seeing the same odd expression as his fellow elf.
Coppernose the Younger seemed frozen in place, his dark eyes considering for a moment. Then he shook his head very slightly.
Bofur shook off the moment with a laugh and a wide grin. "Food is good, even if I do say so myself. Bombur couldn't have'n done no finer."
"Bombur?" Arrenis queried.
The hatted dwarf's smile slipped slightly and then he shrugged off the question with a casual wave of his hand. "Dwarf I know. Grand cook."
"Trained chef?" Erestor asked politely, digging slightly just because Bofur's attitude seemed a bit studied, a bit too casual.
"Miner, actually." Coppernose the Younger spoke up from where he was already pulling the choicest pieces of meat from the beef roasting over the hearth fires. "Just a good cook."
Bofur tugged on one end of his impressive mustache and then smiled a bit sheepishly. "He would have trained as a chef, if it had been possible. But our adad needed us in the mines."
Arrenis heard something longing in the dwarrow's voice, catching his attention. "You two are brothers? You said 'our adad'. And your father didn't want him to be a chef?"
Dark eyes saddened as Bofur shrugged and shook his head. "Yeah'n, well yes. Bombur be my brother. Forge master, that's what he is, really. No finer a hand on the workings of a forge. Got the touch, you know. Says cooking ores is as much an art as cooking foods."
Arrenis tried to puzzle out the words versus the sadness he heard behind the pride. "Forgive me for prying." He backed off the subject.
Seeing this, Bofur smiled for real and shook his head. "Nay, you be fine. It's just. After the dragon stole Erebor, we didn't work for fulfillment but out of survival. Lost everything the family did. And we didn't even live at the Lonely Mountain at the time."
Erestor now looked confused, making both dwarrow chuckle without humor.
"It wasn't only the dwarves living in Erebor that were touched by the tragedies." Coppernose the Younger spoke while poking through the vegetables, taking only the best looking. "Too many refugees flooding the dwarrow settlements. Resources stretched too thin. Revenue from trading the kingdom stopped all together."
Bofur pointed at the brunet dwarf on that one. "Exactly. Adad had contracts, lucrative ones. With Erebor. When she fell?" He spread his hands up emptily.
Arrenis shifted uncomfortably on his feet, his mouth tilting down into a frown. "To my shame, I heard of the fall of the dwarven kingdom after it happened, of course. I felt sympathy for the survivors, but did not consider the fuller difficulties."
Erestor nodded in agreement. "But I hear there is a Dwarven kingdom once more in the Lonely Mountain. Erebor is rebuilding. Have you considered moving there?"
Bofur opened his mouth, then shut it, he simply shook his head. "Me brother is there, actually." He spoke rather weakly.
"I'm sure they will be needing the services of a Forge Master." Arrenis said supportively.
Coppernose the Younger walked over to the group, carrying a fine looking plate of the best foods. "Erebor holds too many ghosts for us now." He said with finality, no shame in his voice whatsoever. "Brookshire is home for the moment."
"Aye, and while I'm a miner, and a good one mind ye, I am actually a toy maker by trade." Bofur grinned widely, puffing out his chest.
Arrenis blinked several times in a row just as Tauriel entered the kitchen, greeting them all. "A …toy maker?" It didn't fit in with the story the hatted dwarf had just told them, about a bleak need to work hard simply to eat and survive.
Erestor though, nodded in sage understanding. "Dwarven toys." His eyebrows rose with speculation. "Rich market there."
Arrenis, startled a bit, smiled in spite of himself.
The darker-haired elf took pity on him. "As an elfling, I was jealous of a piece a friend of mine had. A top. When it spun, the most wondrous music filled the air. But there was a trick to it. If you spun it just so, in the dark, it would light up and throw pictures on the wall."
Bofur beamed, rocking back slightly on his heels. "Ah! Yes. I make a similar piece with pinwheels."
Arrenis shook his head, not understanding.
"Dwarven magic." Erestor supplied with a smile at his friend. "Dwarven toy makers are esteemed highly.
The lighter-haired elf sighed and nodded. "I did not realize. I had heard that if I ever came across Dwarven toys to not let them pass me by, but I don't believe I knew the reason."
"Bofur makes amazing things." Tauriel smiled as she frowned down at her husband's plate of food. "You're not eating."
"Not that hungry." Came the Younger's surprising reply. Then the brunet held the plate out to his pregnant wife. "Here, share with me."
"I had dinner." Protested the she-elf, though she took the fork and speared some of the vegetables. "I did not think you enjoyed squash."
"Is that what that is?" The dwarf acted innocent. "Ah, you can have those pieces. Here. The meat is tender, Bofur is a master with sauces."
Tauriel paused, the eating utensil in her mouth. Delicately she pulled the fork free and finished chewing her squash, swallowing as her eyes narrowed. "Stop trying to feed me, I eat enough."
Arrenis tried not to smile as Erestor looked away to keep amusement off his face. Now the Younger's poking through the food for the finest pieces made more sense.
"You don't want this to go to waste, do you?" The brunet dwarrow wheedled, taking the fork and speaking a piece of tender beef. "And it's red meat. You heard what Erestor said about needing that."
The tall elf in question looked up at his name being invoked.
Tauriel gave him a cross look. Erestor smiled wanly. "You do need more red meat and greens."
Coppernose the Younger grinned and held the fork in front of her face. Tauriel grimaced, but took the proffered bite with ill-grace.
o.o.o.o.o
o.o.o.o.o
"So? When is the wedding?" Cleadeth was lying back on her bed, flipping through her sketch book as she held it up over her face.
Teldu blinked up, sitting at the desk and reading through a treatise on how to make a difficult cake. It was a process taking easily up to four hours to create, sometimes longer. "I'm studying how to make a spit cake."
"Why?"
Teldu sighed. "Because I have a feeling it may be on the Master's test."
Cleadeth stretched her neck back and looked at her sister as she stuck out her tongue. "We are stuck in a room because strangers are housed in our home. Adad won't let me even catch more than a glimpse of the Rangers."
"They're human and you're a flirt." Teldu reread the recipe instructions for perhaps the hundredth time. She sighed. "I just know they'll make me create one of these."
"Why?"
The apprentice baker rubbed her eyes, putting down the book for a moment. A book that had belonged to her uncle Dorn. She ran a sad finger over its cover, missing the irascible dwarrow. "It's a spit cake, baked over an open flame. Turning as you brush on even layers very thinly with the batter. Not only do the layers have to be even, but you have to rotate the cake carefully so that it browns evenly as well. It takes easily four or more hours of careful work."
"Ugh." Was Cleadeth's reply. She blinked her pretty eyes then grinned. "So. When's the wedding?"
Teldu wanted to throw something at her little sister, but merely groaned instead. "Why the need to know?" She avoided answering, unsure of her answer.
"The dress of course!" Cleadeath rolled onto her stomach and kicked her stocking feet in the air. "Spring? It would be pretty, but not much time to design the right dress. Summer would be too hot though. Fall would be grand, but it's so far away!"
The young baker sighed, nodding. "I'll let you know when I accept him."
Cleadeth frowned at her sister. "I know you love him." She said pointedly.
"That's not all there is to it though." The elder sister said a bit snippily.
"I know he has the town's respect. And our parents." Cleadeth sat up on the side of the bed, her eyes eager. "He's handsome, strong, and commanding. Doesn't mind hard work, you can see that when he's over at the blacksmith's."
Teldu bit back a groan, knowing how many times she'd peeked out the bakery window to see a Fili while he'd worked with sword making. Snow might be on the ground, but inside the smithy it was still hot. And seeing Fili's chest when his shirts became sweaty and they molded to his frame was …dare she say it? A treat.
"His name is not high, I'll admit." Cleadeth continued, counting things out on her fingers as she made various points.
But Teldu's mind stalled on only one point. His name. The dwarrowdam frowned. She'd agreed not to push, and she'd keep to her word. Yet it could not keep her mind from wondering, who was Fili really?
Her sister was right. He was magnificent. Strong and commanding. Teldu frowned. Used to commanding? He was whipping up the town guard into a rather elite force according to all the rumors, and he was doing it in a way that seemed almost effortless though she knew he was working hard. It was more that he knew exactly what to do.
Teldu swallowed uneasily. So. Used to fighting, warfare possibly. Not unusual for a dwarrow, not in this day and age. But used to leadership as well. A former captain perhaps? Or higher? Fili also seemed adept in wading through town politics within the council without stepping on too many toes. He was comfortable with Men and their ways, and seemed to find it important to work together with the other races.
Other races. Tauriel. Where had Kili met and fallen in love with a she-elf? From what little she knew, it seemed the answer lay toward the Mirkwood. A most isolated and secretive area. Near Erebor. She frowned at the thought of the Lonely Mountain, a kingdom where Fili adamantly stated he could not go.
Why?
He could have deserted. Teldu threw out that thought almost immediately as she chewed her bottom lip. Fili was no coward, and neither was his brother. She'd seen them attack Orcs when they were outnumbered. Cowardice was not in them. Could they have insulted someone of high blood and been forced to leave? That …could be possible actually. Though Fili didn't seem the type to let his mouth run free, but maybe Kili had said something?
Teldu groaned and let her head drop back to stare at the ceiling. Maybe she was overthinking things. Kili wanted to marry an elf, maybe that had been forbidden and they'd stolen their leave? Yet the brothers were also far from destitute or running with only the clothing on their backs.
They'd paid the town the back taxes on Hamnar's properties. They'd thrown a large wedding and owed no one from what she'd heard, paying for everything straight away. Tauriel sported a gorgeous emerald and diamond wedding ring and ….
A knock on the door announced the arrival of the sister's mother. Nurbera smiled at them both, then turned to Teldu. "Fili is in the kitchen hoping to see you."
"The Rangers?"
"In the front rooms with your father." Nurbera smiled at her eldest daughter. "Should I tell him you don't want to see him?"
"No!" Cleadeth was the one who answered as she pulled her sister up to her feet and straightened her tunic, frowning. "You should change into something nicer."
The dwarrowdam batted her sister's hands away, but did straighten her hair a bit in the mirror even as Cleadeth put some perfume on her fingers and rubbed it behind Teldu's ears.
Nurbera chuckled as Teldu tried to escape her younger sister's ministrations.
"Now, remember what you said. Let me know when you decide to marry so I can get started on the dress." Cleadeth ordered.
Teldu rolled her eyes. "Tauriel and Kili got married on one day's notice."
Cleadeth actually shuddered. "And her dress was nothing special, though the wedding was fun. If you think I'm letting you get married like that, think again."
Nurbera laughed. "And here I thought I was the mother, not you." She chucked her youngest fondly under the chin as Teldu fled downstairs toward the kitchen.
o.o.o.o.o
o.o.o.o.o
"If'n you all excuse this poor dwarrow, I'm going to catch a nap. My turn on watch will be in four hours." Bofur nodded at everyone affably as he headed toward his room.
Coppernose the Younger yawned, but didn't get up. Not with Tauriel's head resting on his shoulder.
Arrenis smiled, amazed that the height difference between the married couple didn't make them look ridiculous. Instead, it seemed so sweet. Tauriel was leaning a bit precariously, but the elf had no worries as her husband clearly had an arm around her to keep her from slipping.
"She tires quickly." Erestor sipped some tea.
The young dwarrow smiled, careful not to jostle his wife. "Don't tell her that, it simply irritates her."
Tauriel pinched her husband's leg and sat up, blinking. "Not asleep, actually."
None of the males mentioned the lines embedded along the side of her face from the decorative seams on her husband's leather tunic. They weren't stupid after all.
"Of course not." Arrenis said rather dryly. "Though it has been a long day, made longer by this storm and the town's unexpected visitors."
"Do you include yourselves in that?" Tauriel asked a bit tartly, then her eyes widened as she remembered that she was speaking with a High Elf.
Arrenis and Erestor both chuckled. "We are guests in your home." The darker-haired elf said quietly. "So yes, we include ourselves."
The red-head nodded her head in mute apology, though not taking back her words nor her sentiment. "These new-comers do bother me, however."
Coppernose the Younger rubbed his nose and rolled his shoulder where his wife's weight had so recently been resting.
Tauriel's gaze picked up his small movement. "Does it ache?"
The dwarrow rolled the right shoulder and shook his head. "More from the cold than anything else." He caught the elves interested look. "Recovered injury."
"Like the one near your knee?" Erestor asked rather blandly, trying to hide his keen interest. That particular scar had come from a morgul weapon, he was sure of it.
"No." The brunet dwarf laughed off the question. "Believe it or not, it was a worse wound, but this …" He patted his leg, "was a far more fearsome thing. It shouldn't have been, considering the damage done."
Arrenis nodded, hearing the message even if the dwarf didn't know he was sending one. The shoulder wound had been bad, but the morgul arrow had brought him closer to death though it shouldn't have if it hadn't been a weapon created in Mordor. "Erebor?" He asked, mostly to see a reaction.
He got one.
Dark eyes dropped in the usually open face, and when the Younger looked back up his face was bland, almost a mask. "I fought there." He admitted.
Tauriel shifted in her seat, deliberately pulling attention. "Perhaps I am tired after all."
Now, wasn't that interesting? Arrenis shot a look out of the corner of his eyes toward Erestor. It seemed the pretty she-elf knew whatever secrets her husband held, and was holding onto them herself.
"It really is too bad we can't go outside the walls and look around." Erestor willingly went along with the couple's desire to change the subject matter.
"Oh but there is." Tauriel spoke up, drawing an alarmed look from her husband.
"No." Coppernose the Younger said.
"Yes, there is." The red-head said quietly and then poked her husband's shoulder quite hard. Interesting to Arrenis, it was the shoulder that he had NOT been injured in previously. Then her green eyes met his and flicked over toward Erestor. She looked at the two elves, nodding with certainty. "Yes there is."
The dwarrow groaned unhappily and sank down into his seat a bit. "Bofur!" He yelled at the top of his lungs.
o.o.o.o.o
o.o.o.o.o
Saruman made his way deep into the hidden caverns near Isengard. He knew beyond all doubt that he'd not been observed, yet he took precautions anyway.
The two Orcs standing guard gnashed their teeth at him, but said nothing. One look from his glaring eyes though had them bowing, nearly dropping to the floor as they did so.
Saruman sneered. "An army worth of Mordor he asks for. What of you is worthy of more than the muck which covers you?"
"We serve, we serve!" The Orc assured the wizard, keeping his head bowed.
"Then speak." The wizard commanded with a look of disgust on his face, keeping his fine robes away from the filthy creatures. "The storm?"
"Grows as you spoke it to." The second Orc rushed to say. "You are mighty and your voice works even on the elements, oh skilled one."
Saruman nodded. His very name, or at least the name he adopted upon arrival in Arda, meant "Man of Skill". And few could withstand the effects of his voice. He frowned, though Gandalf still did not fall in line with any of the White Wizards more subtle plays.
The Istari had arrived at the Gray Havens together, all met by Cirdan the Shipwright. And although Saruman was the eldest and considered the leder, it was to Gandalf that the elf lord had gifted the Ring of Power known as The Red Ring, or Narya. That disservice still burned in the pit of his gut even so many years removed.
"Sir? We don't quite understand. The dung-king of Erebor is prepared to send you the last in Durin's direct line. Why do you seek to prevent travel?"
Saruman's eyebrows rose at the question. "Idiot. None may know of my allegiances. If the Lady Dis came here, I would end up having to protect her. Yet. If I delay her travel, and then on her journey here she and her escort are attacked on the road and destroyed it would be clear that I had nothing to do with the tragedy."
"You stall, for our forces to arrange that ambush." The Orc bobbed his head up and down like a good toady, grinning with his broken and stained teeth. "Wise, so wise!"
Saruman sighed, staring. "An army worthy of Mordor. Well. Let's get started." He waved a hand negligently in the air.
The two Orcs did not have time to register the betrayal as others rushed in and slit their throats, catching the foul smelling blood in goblets.
"Take the blood to my work table." Saruman ordered with a yawn. "I have work to do. Stronger orcs to create."
o.o.o.o.o
o.o.o.o.o
Teldu walked into the kitchen and then caught her breath as Fili looked up at her. The moment his blue eyes met her, he grinned. The dimples that she couldn't help but adore flashed at her beneath his well-kept beard.
"I thought you were walking the perimeter of the town walls?" She asked, knowing without him saying that he'd already done that.
"Done. And when I leave you, I'll do it again." Fili's smile dimmed. "There's something in the air I don't like."
Teldu nodded, not doubting his suspicions. "King Fili." She teased. "Protecting his realm."
His smile disappeared entirely. "Please don't call me that." He asked in all seriousness.
The dwarrowdam stilled, she'd known he'd objected to the title, but had no idea that it really bothered him. "Apologies."
"You really want to apologize? Bring yourself closer." He said with a bit of a leer as well as a rather cocky attitude. "I'm cold, is that any way to leave a guest?"
She snorted at the obvious ploy. "There's the fire." She pointed at the hearth even as she made her way closer to him, stepping inside his embrace when he opened his arms to her. "You ARE cold." She shivered as she made contact with his leathers. His coat and furs were hanging up beside the door, but his thick padded tunic was still thoroughly chilled.
"It's a bad storm." Fili murmured, leaning in to steal the kiss she offered up to him. "Come, warm me."
She grinned against his lips. "You speak like a bad imitation of a love saga, one of those travelling plays they offer in the summer."
"You mock me?" He growled, nibbling on her soft lips.
Silently Teldu thought of those plays, and their props. She smiled as she did not tell him how fine he'd look in one of the fake crowns they always wore. King Fili indeed. She moaned as his tongue played along the seam of her lips and she opened to him.
Really. Teldu's pale-blue eyes closed with pleasure as she hummed lightly and wrapped her arms around him, ignoring the cold as she leaned in closer. If Fili didn't want her to tease him about acting regally, he shouldn't be so strong. Or so handsome. So commanding. Or even taking a name from a dead prince. And he was too damned proud by half …and ….and ….
Fili's hands slid down hotly from her shoulders to her low back, urging her closer even as she held him tightly.
Teldu's eyes snapped open. He was too proud. Too proud to take someone's name. He never hesitated with the name Fili. Not like he sometimes did when Coppernose was called out.
"Teldu?" Fili murmured against her lips, sensing her sudden tension. His hands moved back up her spine to her shoulders, as if she'd merely been objecting to the caress. "Love?"
Coppernose wasn't his name. Fili was. But …the Line of Durin was dead and buried. Her mother had even made black candles that the family had lit in mourning after the news had reached Brookshire.
Teldu stepped back, but could only move so far as Fili still had his arms around her. She stared up at his face.
"Love?" He was sounding worried now. "Do I move too fast for you?"
King Fili. Her ears started to ring. She stared, her pupils dilating with shock. He had a strong likeness to the Durin line, easily recognizable to any self-respecting Longbeard. Yet that wasn't all that uncommon. But …THAT Fili was dead. Suddenly she caught her breath. Those mourning candles, they'd not been out in a while. Except for the one for Uncle Dorn. She'd not even questioned it.
"Teldu?"
"King Fili, King Under the Mountain?" Her voice was a hoarse whisper.
He didn't answer, but did go completely pale under his tan.
Teldu screamed as she leapt backwards, slipping as she landed on her backside. Staring up at a dead king.