I don't own The Hobbit, the book or the movie. This fic will be based on the movie, with some tidbits from the book. I do own Astrid and Nerys and their backgrounds, and Idhril, who makes an appearance for all of like, five minutes later on. Treasures is rated for violence mostly, and drinking and smoking. You know how dwarves are. This fic will be written in three parts, one for each of the movies. Please enjoy!
Treasures Lost and Found
—The Wilds
"I will not tell you again, Dain, I am not coming with you to the Iron Hills. I came to see you and your people off, not for another lecture about the proper behaviour for a female dwarf."
"You should not have had to live here on your own for so long, Nerys."
"I chose to live here." Nerys glared at the older dwarf, her hands on her hips, fingers gripping the fabric of her dark blue tunic tightly. Her scars were hurting, the skin tight and itching, and they had been since her first conversation with Dain. The dwarf and his insistence that she did not belong in Lake Town made her mad, made her blood boil and her old injuries flare. "And I am quite capable of taking care of myself."
"You need to be with your people—"
"What I need is for you to stop worrying about me, to get out of Lake Town and let me get back to my life." She took a step closer, her eyes narrowing further. "And if you do not stop, I will give you something real to worry about."
They stared at each other for a few more seconds before she turned on her heel and walked swiftly away from Dain, leaving him standing on the edge of the city with the rest of his dwarves mingling about, making sure they had their things and were readying for the final leg of their journey home; they'd been making great time so far and did not want to slow down. Nerys heard Dain call after her, but she ignored him, setting her jaw and continuing her trek back to the tavern, to help Kelda in the kitchens. Cooking usually served to help distract her and she needed distraction.
Not only did Dain's insistence that she leave aggravate her, but his presence and words of her people reminded her of what she'd lost, as if she needed another reason to think of Erebor.
The muscles in her side clenched and she bit off a groan. She kept going though, used to the odd spasm.
When she turned the next corner however, the pain in her side became too much, heat prickling along her skin. Nerys put her back against the wall of the closest building and closed her eyes, concentrating on breathing deeply, trying to get the muscles to relax when they began to contract. She tried not to itch, because she knew from experience that would only make things worse. The dwarf woman doubled over as the spasm passed, bracing her hands on her knees and sucking down air, blinking the tears out of her eyes. She straightened and tried to ignore the curious looks the people in the streets were giving her, and keeping her eyes downcast, Nerys changed her path, making for her rooms instead of the tavern.
Inside with the door locked, Nerys pulled off her tunic and twisted uncomfortably so she could look at the mottled skin and scar tissue, the deep ridges of flesh darker than normal, exacerbated by the stress and the heightened emotions. She could only see the patch of scar tissue on her hip and her side, but she could feel the itching stretching up around the back of her left shoulder, along the side of her neck, up into her hair behind her left ear, and down to her backside and thigh. Memories of the heat of Smaug's fire flashed through her mind and Nerys winced, rubbing her hand lightly over the scars she could reach. She dropped onto the bed when the irritated had calmed and put her head in her hands.
When Nerys lifted her head a few minutes later she found there were tears on her cheeks. She wiped away the tears as the pain receded and got to her feet, the breeze from the open window suddenly cold on her skin.
"It is fine," she whispered to herself as she pulled her shirt back on, "You are safe here."
Nerys shook her head and headed for the door, planning on heading to the tavern, to work, but again she changed her mind. She lowered herself slowly to kneel on the floor beside her bed, reaching underneath to draw out the wooden box she kept hidden there. It had been a while since she'd felt the need to look at the contents, but it always helped to centre her, to calm her down.
She lifted the box onto the bed, a sob inadvertently escaping her lips, her scars still prickling a bit as she unlatched and lifted the lid, revealing the two short swords nestled inside. They were of dwarven make, the last of the swords sent from Erebor before the dragon's attack. She'd purchased them soon after she'd recovered enough to walk, to work and make money for herself. They were a reminder of home, of her brothers, of Thorin. She practiced with them occasionally, trying to regain her range of movement and skill with the blades; skill that had evaporated after her inability to use her left arm for so long.
Nerys lifted one of the blades in her right hand, fingers fitting against the leather, settling into the slight indentations she'd made over the years. Taking a few steps back from the bed, she swung the sword across her body and back then rotated her wrist, the blade whistling through the air. A wild smile took over Nerys's face, the pain vanishing in the wake of the rushing adrenaline.
After a second's thought, she picked up the second sword, twirling it experimentally. It still felt wrong to hold the second blade and her hand contracted at the wrong moment, the blade clattering to the floor, the brief seconds of euphoria falling with it.
Jaw set, Nerys returned to swords to their box and the box to its spot under the bed, sitting heavily on the floor when it was done, back against the bed. The pain and the itching had stopped, but she didn't exactly feel any clearer headed than she had before. She wondered if the feelings of doubt and discomfort would be plaguing her as much had Dain not stopped in Lake Town, or if she'd never heard the rumours of the quest to reclaim Erebor. She was unsettled and unsure and it was a place she wasn't used to occupying.
The land between Rivendell and the Misty Mountains was wild and difficult to traverse. There were no roads or clearly defined paths through the grass and brush, and the area had never been hospitable to travel, even when the Great East Road had cut through the area. The thirteen dwarves and lone hobbit of Thorin's company weren't too bothered though, the rocks and hills doing little to slow their pace. The Misty Mountains loomed on the horizon ahead of them; they would be climbing through the narrow rock paths soon.
At the back of the company currently travelling in a single-file line across a relatively flat patch of land, Kili was running through the motions he'd practiced while sparing with Astrid, when she'd been showing him how to dual wield knives like she did. It was difficult to get the movements right without holding actual knives. It was also easier to learn the moves with Astrid correcting him and laughing and fighting with nearly everything she had when they sparred. Thinking of Astrid was a little painful, despite his suspicion that she was the little girl who'd terrorized him and Fili when she was little; he hadn't wanted to leave like that, but he understood the importance of moving on as soon as they could. Thorin had received some information from Lord Elrond and they'd left immediately after, headed once again for Erebor.
After a few more minutes of the mimed fighting, Kili realized Dwalin had stopped walking and was watching the motions the younger dwarf had been moving through.
"Can I help you Mr. Dwalin?" he asked once he was within speaking distance.
Dwalin fell in beside Kili, a smile on his face. He crossed his arms over his chest and scratched his beard. "It seems you picked up a new skill in Rivendell," he said, nodding towards Kili's hands, no longer moving. "I never would have thought you would take an interest in learning knife work, lad. Or is it the woman with the knives you've taken an interest in?" he added, a knowing smirk taking over the big dwarf's face.
Kili's eyes narrowed slightly, in a manner more playful than angry, and his hands dropped to his sides. He ran through a few possible responses in his mind, before settling on telling Dwalin the truth. "She was unexpected, though she was fun. I felt like I knew her before I even spoke to her, though. That does not make any sense." Kili watched Dwalin's face for a reaction and got just enough—the barest hint of a smile—to confirm the suspicions he'd shared with Fili the day before. Dwalin had spent the most time with Astrid aside from Kili and Fili in the Blue Mountains; he would know better than anyone. "It was her, all those years ago," Kili said with equal measures relief and confusion.
Dwalin just smiled.
"Is that why Thorin seemed so… disapproving of her spending time with us in Rivendell?"
The smile faltered and Dwalin shook his head. For a few beats, they walked in silence, continuing to linger at the back of the line of dwarves. Fili looked back once, faint lines of concern on his face, but, determining nothing too untoward was up, said nothing. Eventually, Dwalin sighed and gave answer to Kili's question: "No, that is not the reason. Astrid was a mischievous little thing, but your uncle never held it against her. She was just a child, after all. Actually, I think he found her antics somewhat amusing, though he would never say as much." Dwalin smiled at some memory. "Thorin's coldness towards Astrid is… not her fault. There is something similar between Astrid and… and Nerys."
It was Kili's turn to let the silence drag on. He didn't think Thorin would be too keen on knowing Dwalin was speaking of a woman he'd managed to keep hidden for the better part of a hundred years, but at the same time Kili was eager to learn more about Nerys. "Who was she?" he asked.
"The youngest of Fundin's children, my sister, and… meant to marry Thorin."
Kili was struck by the sadness and pain in Dwalin's voice, despite the bigger dwarf's efforts to hide it; it wasn't an emotion he was used to associating with Dwalin, who was all boisterous joy and anger. However, he could understand. Kili had no idea what he would do if something took Fili from him. His brother was his closest friend and the person he relied on the most. To have him ripped away, it would be unbearable. Losing a sister would have added feelings of guilt as well, since dwarf women were all heavily protected, especially by their families, and Balin and Dwalin probably saw themselves partially responsible, not to mention Thorin. Kili sighed and tried not to dwell on it. There were many more questions Kili wanted to ask, but he kept them to himself, not wanting to exacerbate the pain Dwalin was already feeling. He tried to find something else to say, but he needn't have bothered.
Ahead of them, the rest of the dwarves had stopped walking and Thorin, Balin, and Bilbo were heading back towards them. At first, Kili thought Thorin might have heard what he and Dwalin had been talking about, but then he noticed his uncle's eyes glued on the horizon behind him, his mouth pressed into a thin white line. Kili turned around and found the source of the wary look on Thorin's face.
A figure was walking towards them, alone and still too far away to make out any details. All Kili could tell was, judging by the height, it wasn't Gandalf—who had a fondness for appearing without warning anyway—and it wasn't any of the elves from Rivendell. The figure was short and walked with confidence towards the company of dwarves, most of who were standing with their weapons and teeth bared, or at the very least, their hands hovering near their swords or axes or spears. The tension continued to rise, but before anyone could make a move, Kili recognized something in the way the figure walked and knew they wouldn't need to be hostile.
"It's Astrid," he said, loud enough for Thorin to hear and loud enough to break the tension.
Thorin turned, his dark eyes narrowing sharply on his nephew. "What?"
Kili knew by the tone of his voice that Thorin was demanding an explanation, and that he thought Kili had invited Astrid to join the quest. The young dwarf raised his hands. "I did not tell her to come," he said.
"Then what is she doing here?"
"I do not know."
The dwarves fell silent as they watched Astrid approach. As she drew closer, Kili could make out the shape of a bow poking out above her shoulder, surrounded by the dark fletching of the Rivendell arrows. She seemed to have found a matching set of knives to replace the one she lost when she was attacked, and was wearing a dark leather coat Kili hadn't seen before. There was a heavy-looking pack hanging from her shoulders as well, but she seemed only minimally bothered by the weight. She smiled at the dwarves when she was close enough, but the expression faltered when she found Thorin's steely gaze.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
Astrid set her jaw, her shoulders falling into a defensive posture. Despite the stance, Kili could see a wavering fear in her eyes; Thorin really did unsettle her. "I am here to offer my assistance to your quest."
"How do you know of our quest?"
"None of your dwarves told me, if that is what you are worried about. I managed to put the pieces together myself and I am here to offer whatever assistance I can." She took a half-step closer to Thorin, matched his hard gaze. Her green eyes no longer showed any fear, all traces of it replaced by anger. "You cannot stop me from following you."
"This quest is not your concern."
"What if I wish to make it my concern?"
Thorin held Astrid's gaze for a moment longer before turning and marching back to the head of the column, muttering something about the naivety and foolishness of young human women; he did everything except throw his hands up in the air. Slowly, the rest of the dwarves fell back in line and started walking, realizing there was nothing further to be said or done. A few of the dwarves did smile and nod at Astrid, and Fili gave her a nod and a smile.
"It's nice to see you again Astrid," Bilbo said to the woman when all the dwarves save Kili and Dwalin had returned to the company. "There is something comforting in not being the only non-dwarf in the company." The hobbit gave her a warm smile before.
"Thank you Bilbo," she replied.
They shared one more smile before Bilbo turned and joined the rest of the company in the trek over the hills. Astrid hovered for a breath, eyes on those walking ahead, then on the ground. Finally, she turned and met Kili's gaze and a shy smile danced across her lips, her cheeks turning a little red, the blush bringing a similar smile to Kili's face. Dwalin said something quietly to her and ruffled Astrid's hair, pride in her actions unmistakable. He was glad to see her again. He didn't linger though, turning around to start walking once more. Astrid fell in step beside Kili, the flush returning to her cheeks.
"I found your notes in my journal," she said.
Kili's own cheeks reddened. The notes had started as reminders of pointers he'd given her while teaching her archery, so she could keep practicing and get better. He hadn't meant to write the comment about her eyes; it had just sort of appeared on the page when he'd been thinking about the way her green eyes shone when she smiled. The comment about Astrid come to Erebor had been intentional, but he'd crossed that one out with ferocity, knowing Thorin would not approve. "I am sorry I took it without asking—"
Astrid bumped her shoulder against his in the playful way she had in Rivendell. It was a gesture she used to show affection, Kili was starting to realize. "Think nothing of it. The notes you left... they made me smile."
"Good." They walked for a few beats in silence before Kili asked, "Why did you decide to join us?"
"I figured it was time for my wanderings to mean something. I've been exploring Middle Earth for a long while now, and I have done nothing worthwhile." Her expression was wistful when she met Kili's gaze again. She shrugged. "Helping get Erebor back is a worthwhile cause, though I should have anticipated Thorin's displeasure at my inserting myself in the quest."
Kili's answering smile was wide and bright, unguarded, as he saw no reason to hold it back. They lapsed into a comfortable silence as they moved over the rough terrain, the Misty Mountains looming a short distance ahead. Soon they would be in the foothills and then the arduous climb would begin. A thought struck Kili then, a memory of Astrid's time in the Blue Mountains. "Is your fear of heights going to bothering you in the mountains?" he asked suddenly.
Astrid's eyes went wide. She nearly stopped walking. "I—you remember?" she sputtered.
Kili laughed at the look on her face—evidently she had not expected him to remember. He bumped his shoulder against hers, mirroring her earlier action. "That is for stealing my arrows, and this," he playfully punched her arm, just below the shoulder, "is for cutting my hair."
Astrid's lips thinned out as she tried to hold back her laughter. "Are we putting those memories behind us, or should I sleep with one eye open?"
"I am all for putting the memories in the past, but you should still sleep with one eye open as I am not sure Fili feels the same."
"Have you told him who I am yet?"
"I shared my suspicions with him, but that is all."
Astrid smirked and kicked a rock to the side of the path. "I was worried about how you would react," she admitted. "I was not exactly the best behaved, but maybe our time in Rivendell changed your opinion of me?" she asked, one eyebrow raising slowly.
Kili returned the quizzical look and the smirk. "Maybe."