They wake early the next morning to the sound of a fist on the door and the mistress of the hostel bellowing that breakfast will be served in ten minutes, once it is gone there will be no second chances. Kíli gives Nori a bleery stare, not having slept well on the straw mattresses, which all seemed to have lumps in odd places that no amount of kicking, thumping and wriggling could solve. The joy of cheap lodgings but at least there is a hot meal and the pair pack quickly and stumble down the stairs to help themselves to a filling breakfast of porridge and bacon.
It does not take long to find the caravan, the hostels tend to be close to the part of town they leave from anyway, and though the pair are not the first to arrive nor are they the last. The late spring morning air still has a slight chill as they start out, the wagons creaking under the weight of their loads while the rest of them form up on ponies owned by the merchant in charge of the caravan. The last thing that any merchant or caravan guard master wants is for a pony to founder due to poor health and care, or for one mount to get along poorly with the others. Since many families cannot necessarily afford their own pony the use of one tends to come as part of signing on. That pony's care will be it's rider's until they reach their destination and dwarves have been known to join the same caravan time after time out of fondness for their mounts.
Nori likes the caravans. In the first place, they are a good way to earn easy gold. True the routes can be dangerous and exhausting depending on the weather, but gold is gold and she is adept enough at picking pockets to grab a little extra when they pass by, or through, towns on the way. In the second, the guard masters do not tend to ask all that many questions of any older dwarves who want to sign on. Youths are expected and questioned, because Kíli is not the only younger sibling to chase after an older one, but dwarves who are obviously over one hundred tend to get by on little more than their name. Elders are always needed to watch out for the fresh blood after all. The thieves know all of this, of course, and if they have a big job coming up they will often arrange it to take place the night before a trade caravan is due for departure, which at this time of year can be as many as twice a week, so that they can leave town without looking suspicious. Any guard master ignorant of this fact is an idiot and Nori can tell by looking at Asger that he is no idiot.
Before falling into her own past, before meeting Dwalin even, Nori might have entertained the idea of a tumble or three on the road with him. He certainly seems interested but even though her head insists that Dwalin of the future shattered her into a million pieces and she will never love again, her heart stops her from moving forward. As broken as she is over it all, she is being increasingly forced to admit to herself that she is still very much in love with Dwalin. So, she keeps her distance from Asger as much as she can without offending him, turns him down slightly regretfully with a story similar to the one she told Kíli when he does approach her but with the understanding that there may come a day when she would welcome him should her heart recover. Asger takes it well, stating that he had a feeling a lass with such striking eyes could not possibly be unattached and remains charming if distant. Not that Nori blames him.
Among the others who have signed on to guard the six wagons are five youths between five and fifteen years older than Kíli and Nori encourages him to spend time with them as Cadan where possible. Better for him to learn how those of lower status than himself act among their peers. His awkwardness is passed off as it only being a short time since the death of his father and that he is a year younger than he ought to be when joining a caravan. It does not last long and soon she can see Kíli laughing with them all and hear the slight twang of the Iron Hills in his tone as he regales them with some heavily edited tale of the mischief he would get up to with a childhood friend. Of the five, two are lasses and the four lads waste a great deal of time telling tall tales and pulling ridiculous stunts in attempts to impress them. Nori shakes her head, well remembering her own early experiences on the caravans, and joins the eight adults in commiserating over the foolishness of youth.
It is not all easy on the road to Bree, however, the weather turns poor three weeks into that part of their journey and what should have taken them a little over a month turns into a nearly six week trek after the wheels on one of the wagons gets broken due to a combination of hidden stones, sodden roads and a spooked new pony. The wagons were already at their weight limit for the ponies and even spreading crates and barrels from the broken one as evenly as they can, the added weight means that they are forced to stop and rest the beasts more often. Fortunately, one wagon load had been destined for a dwarf merchant in Bree anyway, so the only major concern they have will be that they will need to spend an extra day there to allow for unloading the delivery, organising someone to go out and collect the broken wagon, and redistributing the goods in the other wagons to lighten the load once more.
While everyone else becomes frustrated with the delay, however, Nori breathes a mental sigh of relief. She might have told Kíli that she would not mind meeting with Dwalin and Fíli if they wanted to join them on this trip, Dwalin knows to watch his tongue after all, but since the pair of them effectively snuck out of town without warning anyone it is possible that Dwalin will simply try and drag them back to Thorinuldum anyway. Besides, as important as it is that the two boys remain close, it is also good to see Kíli making some friends his own age.
"You did a good job with him," Asger comments to her one evening as they relax by the campfire smoking their pipes and watching the six young ones practice with their weapons, something that Kíli apparently came up with.
"I think you mean his father did, after his Ma passed," Nori replies, hiding an uncomfortable squirm.
"No," Asger shakes his head. "You can tell a lad who's only been raised by his Pa. There's a lass' touch to him as well." Nori shrugs.
"My brother came to me for help, I helped him," she passes it off. "He only had me and my other brothers, his Da and our Ma are both dead. My Da too come to think of it."
"It's been a bad time for our people, since Erebor was lost," Asger observes.
"You were born in Erebor?" Nori asks in surprise.
"My two older brothers," he says, "I was born in the between years, after Erebor, before Azanulbizar. Lost my Da there, my Ma did what I suspect yours did, remarried to make ends meet."
Nori's story is not entirely a lie, her's and Ori's father is not the same dwarf as the one who fathered Dori, who was lost in the fall of Erebor before her mother ever knew she was with child. Her mother did, in fact, remarry to make ends meet and lost her second husband to an orc raid several years after Ori's birth. She made ends meet her own way after that, perhaps why she took the news of Nori's destined craft as hard as she had. She shrugs, accepting a tankard of ale when offered it. The nice thing about having wagons is the fact that one of them is entirely dedicated to supplies for the trip. They only have ale once every seven days or so, something Graldik the merchant in charge keeps track of, so they only have as many barrels as they can carry without compromising on their food. Graldik is a miserable one who keeps himself aloof from everyone except Asger and watches them with suspicious eyes when he is not in his tent, which is the only tent available. The rest of them bed down under the wagons as best they can on spread out oilskins against the muck and wet.
"I think a lot of families did that after Azanulbizar," Nori muses, watching with a proud smile as Kíli manages to sweep the legs out from one of his friends.
"Aye, that's a good lad you have there," Asger turns back to the original topic of conversation.
"He is," Nori agrees, "he'll make his parents proud."
"Graldik is sending me on to Bree with the cart for the merchant there," Asger says. "He had three of the others switch stuff off the cart while you were making dinner," something that everyone has a turn to do, "I'll need a couple of you to help unload when we get there and see if they can drum up some extra help while I make the arrangements for the broken cart. You know what you're doing, and your lad might as well learn some of the ropes. If he carries on like he is he could be guard master of his own caravan by the time he's done."
"Not much family in that," Nori replies.
"There isn't," Asger agrees, "but the coin is well saved on the road with no expenses and could set him up well after a few years."
"I can mention it to him," she concedes after a bit of thought. There's no harm in saying it, even if both know that it will not happen. Asger is sharp and experienced enough to know that there are some holes in their story. He is also gracious enough to not mention it. "Still, we'll come with all the same. Be nice to get into a town for a bit, visit the public baths and have a bit of a scrub while you find a few new hands once the cart is sorted." She takes another swig. "I know a few people who went with other caravans to Bree and further. If any of them are still there I'll send them your way."
"Cheers for that, lass," Asger gets to his feet, stretching and making a satisfied sound. "That offer's still open if you change your mind." He adds.
After weeks on the roads, years without a good shag and with all the confusion that still dances through her with every thought of Dwalin, Nori comes very close to chucking it all in and taking him up on the offer. Asger is a good dwarf for a chat, he is her type in that he is pure muscle and rough edges, once this trip is over she could easily go the rest of her life without seeing him again and not regret it. Or perhaps it would be exactly what she needs to finally let go of the Dwalin of the future who broke her and the Dwalin of now who has no idea who she really is or ever was to him.
Then her eyes fall on Kíli and she has a moment where she remembers seeing his body still and cold in a tent filled with the dead and dying rather than the young lad who is lying on his back in the grass as he tells some tale or other about the stars above them. Any temptation to finally put Dwalin behind her slips from her in that moment and she gives Asger a sad smile.
"Ask me again tomorrow," she replies, having told him about the dead lover to hide her truth so while it is not an agreement, he at least understands that she is not quite ready to move on.
Asger shrugs. "Alright, lassie, I know when I'm mining a dead shaft. You, me and the lad tomorrow morning. We'll push hard, get some sleep."
A.N: Asger sort of snuck up on me. And apparently on Nori too. I still like him, though, he's not a bad sort, he's just not Dwalin.