Turns out, sparring the entirety of the line of Durin back-to-back is, simply, miserable. By the time Kili (who went last) was finished beating me to a pulp, all my self control was still not enough to keep me from collapsing to the ground with a rather dramatic groan.
So I did.
"I feel like I've been hit by a train. A very angry train. With swords."
I felt a shadow cross my face, and opened my eyes to see Dad standing at my feet, arms crossed and eyebrow raised.
I groaned and closed them.
"Aris."
How could he put so much meaning in one word?
I let out a pathetic whine and began to attempt to lever myself to my feet. By the time I was upright, the boys had devolved into helpless snickers. It would take too much energy to glare at them, so I didn't bother.
Dad shook his head, but wrapped an arm around my shoulders to guide me toward the patch of grass where I liked to stretch. The dwarf had decided quickly that stretching was 100% as important as I made it out to be, if not more, and would glare heavily at anyone who dared to leave the training field without doing it.
Before he let go of me though, he gave my shoulders a brief squeeze. "You're doing well, Aris. Don't forget that. I need to speak to you after you stretch, though I'm sure you'll insist on bathing first."
I mustered up the energy for a small grin. "Thanks Dad. Yeah, you guess right. I'm sweatier than horse and the hot water will help the soreness too." I turned and continued, to myself, "What I wouldn't give for some Epsom salts and baking soda right now, that would really help. Or, you know, IcyHot. Or Biofreeze. Or Deep Blue."
Even as I began stretching, I continued to mutter to myself about modern remedies I would be sincerely missing tomorrow morning, much to the bemused amusement of Thorin, Dad, and the boys, who eventually began to interrogate me about said modern remedies. It was a decent distraction while I stretched, and kept me awake long enough to finish.
Before I knew it, I was sinking into a delightfully hot bath, complete with some magic elven bath salts that seemed to work just like Epsom salts. They were, according to the elleth who drew my bath, some sort of apology gift from Insiloth. I didn't think about it too hard, just enjoyed.
I jerked awake to knocking on the door, only to find that the water had gone a much less pleasant sort of lukewarm.
The knocking came again. "Aris?"
I flopped around searching for the bar of soap. "Sorry Dad! I fell asleep, just give me a minute!"
There was a distinct thump, as if said dwarf had let his forehead fall against the door in exasperation. I giggled, and washed quickly.
Much more refreshed, the rest of my bath went rapidly, and within a couple of minutes I was dressed and pulling the door open for my Dad.
He just grunted and shook his head, entering and chivvying me over to the chair where he promptly began to re-do my adoption braid. He did that every few days, sometimes playing with my hair for nearly an hour afterward, putting in and taking out a variety of other braids.
Today was a little different. Instead of just fiddling once he finished re-doing my adoption braid, he started on another, even pulling out a bead to put in it. This one was on the same side, and seemed to be similar in design, running exactly above the other one. It was perhaps a little simpler though, and the bead hung right at the bottom.
When he finished, I reached back to feel it, and he began to hum.
Sometimes he would do that, hum while he played with my hair. It always made me feel warm and melty, like I was wrapped up in a blanket in front of the hearth in my parents' house - totally safe and cared for.
This time was a little different. After guiding my fingers across the whole thing, he began to sing something in Khuzdul. It was low and rough, but still soothing. When he finished, and I'd let the after-song silence hang in the air, I turned to look up at him.
"What have I done to earn this braid, Dad? What does it mean?"
He actually smiled a bit as he answered, "It means you are a fighter. You have been trained, and blooded - even if in the wrong order. While you have much left to learn, no one can doubt the strength of your arm."
I found myself smiling as well, a bit fiercely. "Thank you."
He just hummed, instead of grunting, and ran his fingers down my braids. "We'll make a dwarrowdam of you yet."
I grinned and chuckled, "I'd say you're well on the way to that."
He bared his teeth back at me, and said something in Khuzdul. I didn't bother to ask for a translation, just leaned into him with a smile.
For a long moment, we sat in silence, him tugging lightly at different sections of my hair, almost as if he were picturing different braids. Eventually, I pulled away and looked up at him.
"What's the word for Dad in your language? If I'm allowed to know."
He just stared at me for a second as his expression softened. "'Adad."
"I love you, 'adad."
He looked a little broken, but curled down to pull me out of my chair and into a fierce embrace, murmuring in Khuzdul, then Common, "I love you too, my daughter. My Aris."
…
I didn't cry.
I didn't.
It was long minutes before both of us gathered ourselves, and Dad- 'adad, led us over to sit on the bed.
"Your braid is only one thing I needed to discuss with you tonight."
I tilted my head questioningly.
He nodded. "We touched on the subject of One's when I gifted you your foundling braid, however there is some I left unsaid, that I think you should know."
I frowned a little, but nodded. This was probably because of the whole Thorin fiasco at breakfast. I sighed.
"For each dwarf it is different, how they know their One, but for all there is one thing in common." He paused. "Do you know why it is that sharing song is traditional for dwarrow, and we sing often? Can you guess?"
I frowned at the non-sequitur, until the pieces began to click together. "It has to do with identifying a person's one, doesn't it." There was still a piece missing though, and I frowned.
"Yes. When a dwarf or dwarrowdam hears their One singing, that is the moment they are able to begin with falling in love. For some it takes months, even years, to begin officially courting to wed. For others, no more than a day or two. There are also those that we consider craft-wed, who hear the song of their One in their craft. I am craft-wed to battle, and serve my life as a guard and soldier. It is common for craft-wed to take foundlings, as we cannot otherwise have children."
I let that sink in for a moment, then smiled. "Perhaps I have always known I was meant to be a dwarrowdam, what with how much I treasure music and listen to the voices of others." I looked over at him. "But why are you telling me this, 'adad? Why now?"
He frowned a bit, gaze fixed on the door. "It is not my place to say, Aris. It is something you would have learned as a pebble, and therefore been prepared. Since you didn't, I had to tell you. But I cannot share why. It is not my place."
"Wait," I frowned, 'So something has come up that I need this background information in order to deal with, but a normal dwarrowdam would already have this information so you wouldn't be saying anything, because tradition or culture or something dictates that you aren't to tell me, I'm supposed to know, or figure it out, or someone else is supposed to tell me." I paused. "If that makes sense?"
After a moment of considering my words, he nodded.
Hmm.
My brain started spinning a hundred miles a minute, weariness now completely forgotten.
The puzzle pieces were thus: Ones and singing are suddenly relevant to me, I sang in front of the whole company the other night, non-dwarrow Ones are always foundlings, I'm a foundling, this conversation occurred after some sort of ceremony between Thorin and my 'adad, it wasn't them recognizing each other as Ones because 'adad is craft-wed, this conversation occurred after I made an idiot of myself over realizing I had feelings for Thorin at breakfast then told 'adad about it.
There were definite connections being drawn. I would not allow myself to begin to believe something so absolutely far-fetched.
"'Adad? Do non-dwarven foundlings have Ones? Do I have a One?"
"Yes, Aris. You have a One."
Even after 'adad left, I sat awake on my bed, just sort of staring at the wall next to the door. Eventually, no longer able to take the constant re-hashing of the conversation and the puzzle pieces, I stood up to pace, and to sing. Dinner was long past, but the company was likely still awake, so I didn't worry about being too quiet.
I sang through some of the ones from the other night, then moved on to snippets of songs that I didn't know in their entirety, and even making up some words and melodies. Not really paying attention to what I was singing anymore, so long as there was music coming from my throat.
After maybe an hour, I stopped. I found myself standing in the middle of my room, facing the door. Out that door, if I put the pieces together correctly, was a dwarf you was my One. My literal soulmate. One of the dwarrow of the company who had taken me in as one of their own without question. I didn't really know them though, besides 'adad and Thorin and the boys. Maybe Bofur a little, and Bifur, from working on ASL. And I'd talked to Ori some about my world and about art. And uncle Balin, of course. Dori and Oin, in passing about clothes and healing. But I hadn't exchanged more than a couple of words with Gloin, Bombur, and Nori.
And I had feelings for Thorin.
But I couldn't have feelings for him, because sitting out there was my One.
I wanted to scream.
Then, I heard the voice drifting through my door.
It was unmistakably Thorin, singing something strong, but gentle in Khuzdul. It sounded like he was sitting in the place closest to my door, and I couldn't help but walk toward it, almost as if pulled by a magnet. I fetched up against the wood, pressing my forehead to it as I strained for every note. It was odd, none of the others were joining in. But also fitting, in a way, though I'm not sure why.
The song was long, and by the end I had sunk to the floor, leaning against the door with my eyes closed. Something deep in my chest was both incredibly soothed by the music, and wracked with longing. It had to have been a song about Erebor, to be that nostalgic and bittersweet.
I was tempted to step out of my room to join them, but from the muffled shuffling it sounded as if they were all settling down to sleep. I knew 'adad and Thorin would stay up later, and Uncle Balin, but I couldn't bring myself to leave the relative safety of my room. For tonight, there was a lot I had to think about, and reconcile.
Besides, my tired muscles hadn't gone away, and the more sleep I got, the less sore I might be in the morning.
While I might have been more sore without the stretching, and bath, and sleep, I still wanted to die when I woke up.
Everything hurt.
Yesterday, I'd definitely pushed too hard. Today, training would have to be limited to some jogging and extensive stretching, but even that would be painful. And tonight, the map would be read, and we'd be sneaking out before dawn, so I really couldn't afford to do anything but try to work the soreness out.
By the time I'd made it out of bed and dressed, Thorin had knocked twice to ask if I was ready for breakfast.
When I opened the door, it was to find him and 'adad glaring at each other in front of it, both with arms crossed and feet planted stubbornly. They didn't seem to notice me.
I slipped out and shut the door.
I shuffled my feet awkwardly.
I cleared my throat.
...Still no reaction.
"Um, hello?"
When that didn't even get a reaction I groaned and scrubbed at my face. "I can't deal with this right now. It's too early and I'm in too much pain. If you want to have a staring contest instead of breakfast, fine. But I'm going to have breakfast."
That finally got a reaction, both dwarrow turning their frowns on me. At least Thorin's looked more like it was concerned. 'Adad's? Who knows.
"See Dwalin? She is in pain." Thorin ground out.
Which was 100% not what I was expecting. I raised an eyebrow.
"Training hurts." 'Adad grunted back. "She is not injured, and the sparring was important."
"It was too much!" The words burst out of Thorin like they'd been said a few times before, but at least I knew why they were eye-murdering each other now.
"Um, she is standing right here. And, while yesterday was a little much and did push past my limits, it was also necessary. Therefore, both of you are right, and I'm sore but fine. We just need to take it easy today. Maybe I'll teach you guys some yoga. For now, enough arguing." I inserted myself between them, tucking hands into elbows and dragging them away. "Breakfast."
This was, of course, when I noticed that Balin, Bofur, and Bifur were still in the room, and that all three were trying not to laugh at us. I did the very mature thing, and rolled my eyes at them.
Breakfast this particular morning proved a bit unusual. The company seemed both more rambunctious and more reserved. Enjoying the last day of comfort, eager to get away from the elves, but wary of the hard road ahead. Not anxious or anything though, even Ori and the boys. Dwarrow, it seemed, even young dwarrow, were more than used to and accepting of the dangers and hardship that are part and parcel of life on the road. These were a displaced people, I had to remember. Displaced since many years before the youngest three were born. In fact, as far as I knew Balin and Thorin were the only ones to have lived in Erebor. Though, it would make since if Oin, Gloin, and 'adad had as well. It was just so hard to guess at ages with dwarrow, and the differences between the book and movie timelines didn't help.
Another difference made itself known as Thorin, 'adad, and I rose to go to the training fields.
"Thorin Oakenshield." Elrond stalled us (seriously what was with the dude and using full names all the time?). "I think it would be wise if we spoke this morning, before I read your map tonight."
I glanced at Thorin, only to find the expected frown. 'Adad, looming over his shoulder, looked just as unhappy. I turned back to the elf-lord.
"And why is that?" Thorin ground out, somewhat civilly.
"I do believe it is your wish, and plan, to depart on the morrow? Surely you do not expect to do so without proper re-provisioning and news of the road ahead?"
Knowing Thorin's opinion of elves, that was exactly what he had planned. I examined his expression as he thought of an answer, and glanced around the now silently watching company. Before he could say something likely to the effect of 'fuck off, we don't need help from elves,' I stepped in.
"Perhaps Balin can accompany you to meet with Lord Elrond, Thorin, and you can join us on the training field after? I'm sure a simple purchase of provisions and information will go quickly."
Hopefully making it out to be a business transaction would help, and hopefully Uncle Balin would keep Thorin civil.
Thorin took a moment to grit his teeth, then nodded sharply.
Elrond gave a little elf-lord smile that he probably didn't realize was more condescending than wise and friendly. "Very good. Would you accompany to my study?"
With a look to me I didn't recognize, and a sharp gesture to Balin, Thorin stepped into place beside Lord Elrond. Stiffly. So stiff he was probably giving himself cramps. I fought the urge to wince sympathetically.
On our way to the training field, I could tell that 'adad was stressed, and tense. And reached out to stop him once we got there. "It's okay, 'adad. Uncle Balin will guard him well. He's not alone with the elf-lord."
He nodded, but didn't relax any, only turning to staring fiercely at the buildings. After a moment, he turned back to the training field, guiding me to follow with a hand on my back. Before we started to jog though, he turned to me with a furrowed brow.
"You didn't call Balin Uncle in front of the elves."
I nodded. "No, I didn't. Lord Elrond has already tried to command me to stay here, and scolded me for trusting you too much. I finally got him to back off a little and don't want to get in another argument with him. He might decide to force the issue, and that would cause war between dwarrow and elves. I won't be the cause of war."
'Adad frowned, and opened his mouth to argue.
"It would," I stopped him. "If they tried to keep me by force, you would try to free me by force, and then the rest of the company would get involved, and inevitably killed. While dwarrow are fierce and unequaled fighters, there are thirteen of you and probably hundreds of elves in this city. Then, when news reached Eder Luin and the Iron Hills that elves had killed the last three males of the elder line of Durin? All hell would break loose. It was wiser to just practice a little discretion, and I'm sure Uncle Balin will have drawn the same conclusions before I'm even done apologizing to him."
With a bit of a shrug and grunt, 'adad nodded, then dropped the subject.
By the time Thorin joined us, Uncle Balin in tow, we'd moved from jogging and some very intensive stretching to exactly what I'd promised that morning: yoga. Teaching 'adad was an exercise in not laughing, as the burly dwarf was in no way built with the flexibility required. Our new spectators, apparently, had no such desire to avoid laughing, and immediately descended into chuckles and teasing that had 'adad up and full on tackling Thorin before I could control the situation. Seeing as Uncle Balin didn't seem to be too concerned about the grappling dwarrow, I just shook my head and joined him in watching the scuffle.
It didn't look like they'd be letting up anytime soon.
Honestly, I said they were kinda cute, before, and I'd say it again. They were like brothers, but with less of the 'I want to kill you' vibes that seem popular in modern American families. Genuinely cute bromance.
I shook my head again and shared a wry grin with Uncle Balin.
Then I remembered I owed the old dwarf an apology. Explanation. Something.
"Uncle Balin?"
Said old dwarf lit up. "Yes, Aris?"
"I'm being discreet about our relationship in front of the elves because I don't want to cause a diplomatic incident."
He smiled warmly and patted my shoulder. "So I figured, lass. No need to worry."
I wrapped an arm around him in a sort of side hug. He was a little too short for resting my head on his shoulder though, so I refrained. "Thanks, Uncle."
He hummed softly, and even petted my hair. He never played with it or braided it the way 'adad did, but he would touch it. It seems the whole dwarrow and hair thing was true, at least as far as it being a more familial thing. Thorin had said it would be highly inappropriate for him to touch my hair.
It made me wonder. If familial braids and station/accomplishment braids were a thing, were courting braids?
I glanced at Uncle Balin. Would it be bad to ask?
"Just ask your question lass, if it's something I can't answer I won't take offense. Once we're on the road again your 'adad and I will work on teaching you what you need to know. In the meantime, no question is going to earn you a scolding."
Damn dwarrow were all too observant, apparently. I gave a wry grin. "Thanks for reading my mind, Uncle."
He chuckled, then waited for me to find my words.
"I wanted to ask about braids, and hair." I paused. "I have two braids now, both with meaning. Do all braids carry specific meanings? And Thorin said it would be highly inappropriate for him to touch my hair, but 'adad braids it and you touch it, so is it just a familial thing? And, is it just authority? I mean, would I be allowed to touch your and 'adad's hair, or no?"
He chuckled again, and smiled at me. "That is more than one question, lass, but I will endeavour to find answers for all of them. Not every single braid carries such specific meaning as your two, though every braid does carry some meaning. Sometimes it is just that a particular hairstyle carries a particular mood, and so a dwarf or dwarrowdam chooses it. However, all dwarrow will have a set of particular braids. Familial braids, accomplishment and ranking braids, and courtship and bonding braids being the most common. For those, the bead, location, and weave all carry nuances of meaning. Your familial braid is that of a non-dwarven foundling of a noble line.
"As to your questions of touching hair. It is indeed something intimate and familial. Until a dwarrow has a spouse, the only ones to touch their hair are themselves and immediate family: mothers, fathers, brothers, and sisters. In the case where an aunt or uncle or perhaps grandparent is particularly close, they may touch a child's hair. The child however, may only touch that of siblings or parents, until they have a spouse and children of their own.
"Braiding is, however, a step of courting. When a courtship is proposed and accepted, both parties will gift a courting braid. However, that is all the hair touching that may occur until the courting has advanced into the third stage. We will cover the stages of courting in your lessons on the road.
"Hmm." He tilted his head to the side and ran a hand over his beard. "I do believe that answers all of your questions."
I thought for a moment. "Yes, thoroughly. Thanks, Uncle."
He smiled fondly at me. "Anytime, lass. Anytime."
