"I hate you," Billana mutters as she gulps down a vast amount of water. Fili grins unrepentantly.
"Imagine how hard Dwalin would push, Kitten," he purrs, "then tell me that you hate me." She scowls. "I've been helping Dwalin train new recruits in the Royal Guard during the winter months for years. He would hardly consider this a warmup, let alone practice."
"Why only the winters?" She asks, picking up her little sword and sighing when Kili corrects her grip. Elladan and Elrohir taught her to use two long knives if she needs to get close to an opponent, never a sword, and for some reason she is finding the transition more of a challenge than it should be.
"Everyone in Ered Luin works," Kili replies, "Fili and I mostly help escorting caravans in the summers."
"But you're princes," she objects, though she only knows stories about how royalty should behave given there aren't that many kings left in the world.
"Our people would never have made it to Ered Luin if everyone had kept that attitude," Fili tells her as he demonstrates a block for her to try. "Less talking, more practice, or Uncle really will have Dwalin take over."
They continue for a while longer and Billana feels her muscles burning with the unfamiliar movements. Finally, however, Fili says they can stop and she all but collapses on the ground. He laughs and helps her back to her feet, reminding her that if she simply stops like that her muscles will seize, and she'll be miserable for it.
"What are these doing here?" Kili asks when he grabs her water skin and finds the cloth wrapped gifts from the twins.
"I thought we should probably find out what they had sent you," she replies, accepting the water with a grateful smile.
"It's not a bad idea," Fili agrees.
Naturally, as a final dig no doubt, the twins have labelled their gifts with Sindarin nicknames. Fortunately, they taught her how to read and write it. Unfortunately, it has Fili and Kili scowling at the labels with distrust and distaste, even though the twins have done little more than describe the intended recipients: Malthen cóon and Tindu cóon, the Golden and Twilight princes. The twins could have said worse, she thinks, and she hands over the correct packages in silence.
Kili's is noticeably smaller and lighter than Fili's and it is immediately obvious why when he opens it to reveal a dozen delicate arrowheads. They are obviously of elvish design and, if she suspects from the way that they gleam, made using the same lost techniques as her little sword. There are markings on them, though she has no idea if they are useful or decorative and Kili frowns, gathering his gift around the small pieces of metal as he speaks a word. They flare briefly with light, but it seems to satisfy him because he nods and wraps them up once more, tucking them into a pocket.
Fili goes next, opening his to reveal five delicate throwing knives. These are also decorated and of a similar style to Billana's sword. The twins, Billana suspects, have raided more than Elrond's stores of miruvor. Gandalf had been clear when he said that the methods for making such items had not been seen since the First Age. That, however, is apparently not what catches Fili's eye.
"Dushun mizim," Kili breathes when Fili shows him the hilt of one knife. Fili clips him about the ear. "Black opals," Kili translates, "they're rare, especially stones of this quality. We haven't been able to get anything like them since Khazad-dum fell. Uncle says there was opal dirt found in Erebor just before Smaug came, but they never had the chance to assess it."
"A valuable gift," Fili concludes.
"It almost makes me feel bad for breaking Elrohir's nose," Kili grins.
"Only almost?" Fili raises an eyebrow and Kili shrugs.
The younger give the knives an appraising look, then glances at Billana and makes a couple of gestures. Fili shakes his head and returns them with a hand movement of his own. To her annoyance, Kili nods and tucks the knives away, opening his mouth to speak only to be cut off by Bofur.
"Grub's up you three, better get some before Bombur eats your share."
It's an empty threat, of course, they all know by now that Bombur will make sure that everyone else has eaten before he starts on the leftovers.
As with every meal they have eaten on the road, the stew is thick, rich and full of as much meat as Bombur can cram into it. Dwarven palates, she has noticed, seem to run towards meat rather than vegetables. That they are all accustomed to travelling is clear, even without Kili telling her that he and Fili have spent time on the caravans, the Company hunts for fresh meat when they can and carry ample supplies of salted and dried meat as well. In place of bread they would usually have cram, a hard waybread that even the dwarves prefer to soften before attempting to eat it. Every dwarf also has a supply of odd cloth bags that are filled with herbs, spices and dried pulses or grains. They had confused her until she had seen Bombur place several in a pot one night and in the beginning they had been fascinating. Weeks of eating the same thing, however, has caused them to lose their appeal.
Fortunately, Kili managed to bring down a large doe that afternoon and nearly a third of it has been roasted over a roaring fire, the rest dressed and wrapped so that it will keep for the next couple of days. The last of the fresh bread pilfered from Rivendell's storerooms has been divided between them, as well as a good supply of the summer mushrooms Billana had managed to find earlier that day. They all eat well, aware that this is one of the last opportunities they will get for some time, and Billana crawls into her new bedroll and quickly falls into an exhausted sleep.
The weather is with them the following day, the mountain crossing is still almost a week away, and they start off at a brisk pace that leaves little time for talk. There is, she now knows, a deadline for them to make it to Erebor. According to Balin, however, that is the end of October. They have, to her mind, ample time although she doesn't fully comprehend the distance still ahead of them. Nor is she sure that rushing ahead is the best idea when they still need to wait for Gandalf to catch them up. Besides, if they arrive too early they will spend an age waiting at the base of the Lonely Mountain, and since Gandalf and Thorin seem to think that they should be heading there in secret that seems counterproductive. Someone will notice if thirteen dwarves and a hobbit set up camp at the foot of a dragon infested mountain after all.
Their pace has slowed by mid-afternoon and Billana is once more near the centre of the line of dwarves. She is walking beside Ori and, with Fili and Kili at the rear with their heads together, this seems like the perfect time for her to ask some questions of the youngest Ri that Fili and Kili aren't available to answer.
"Ori" He startles when she says his name, although she has noticed over the weeks that he seems to spend so much time focussed on what everyone else is doing that he rarely notices when they want to talk to him. "What do you know about black opals?"
"Not as much as the mages might," he admits, "but enough. Why?"
"Fili and Kili were talking about them last night," she replies, being deliberately vague. She isn't sure that the others should know about the valuable gifts Fili and Kili received just yet. Ori simply accepts her words, however, glancing back at them before turning to her again.
"What did you want to know?" He asks and grins when her reply is a simple request for all of the information he can give her. "Never say that to Bofur about any sort of rock," he advises. "You'll end up learning more than you ever needed." She giggles. "Why not ask Kili and Fili?"
"They weren't answering," she says with a shrug.
"They never did like dedicating their time to the more serious aspects of learning," Ori mutters. Billana frowns, Fili and Kili spent more time in the library in Rivendell than any of the others, and she is certain that very little of it was actually spent on their usual mischief. She also knows that the strength of Kili's gift, especially the dedication it would take to bend it into allowing him to shapeshift, and Fili's skill at healing is evidence enough that they have the patience and desire to learn. "It would probably have helped if Kili's gift was at a similar level to Fili's, but that's just the way that Mahal made him. Anyway, black opals."
Ori, she knows, is easy to get side-tracked.
"Opals," he says after a beat, "the normal white variety, that is, aren't all that rare. They're good focus stones for most spells, especially the more complicated ones or the spells that might need a extra jolt of magic. They're good at holding charms or storing excess quantities of the gift for when a little bit more is needed. Like all stones, however, they can only hold so much. Black opals can hold more than three times the amount of power a white opal can, and they do so with greater consistency even when the gift of more than one mage is used on them. High level mages work with opals to focus the more dangerous spells. Balin has an amulet of white opal that he inherited from his father that he uses to focus his battle spells, and there are rumours that Lady Dis, Fili and Kili's mother, has a tiny fleck of black opal that she wears as a nose stud." She has to smile at him as he talks, Ori rarely notices the change that comes over him when he is teaching someone something new; the way it makes him stand taller and speak with genuine confidence rather than bravado.
Balin, who has been in debate with Thorin, calls Ori forward, and he eases along, leaving her alone with her thoughts once more. For once, Ori has managed to stay fairly on topic as usually their discussions will range all over the place. This time she has gained enough information to draw some conclusions of her own. Ori is as ignorant as most of the rest of the Company about how powerful Kili is, and given the way the prince has been muttering to his brother for most of the day Billana suspects that he has come up with some sort of plan for the opals in the hilts of those knives. Part of her is curious, part of her hopes she never has to find out what he is planning for because whatever it might be, it cannot be good.
A.N: Butchered Sindarin:
Malthen cóon: Golden Prince
Tindu cóon: Twilight Prince
This is just the translator I use, and only because it's quicker than pouring through the dictionary I have although they often match up.
Butchered Khuzdul:
Dushun mizim: dark jewel/black opal.
I am so behind with my Christmas prep, I'm too busy writing this for all of you wonderful people!"