Ori was waiting in the common area when Dwalin came out the next morning. Breakfast was on, and it smelled delicious. Bilbo had joined forces with Bombur and everyone was rather looking forward to something grand.
Eggs, bacon, sausages, and however had Bilbo managed those little cakes? Everyone turned to, knowing that the time was coming they'd be forced back onto travel rations and they were determined to enjoy this while they could.
Breakfast done, they each turned to their individual pursuits for the day. Dwalin approached Ori. "Ye ready t'learn, lad?"
Ori nodded and rose, following the warrior along the corridor to a large unused room at the end. "Not a proper arena, but it'll do," Dwalin said quietly as he moved to one side. "You had a knife already. Did ye know how t'use it at all?" He gestured for the boy to bring out Bleeder. "Let's see what ye know, then we kin really start."
Ori brought out Bleeder, but the balance wasn't what he was used to and he fumbled for a moment before getting a real grip on it. Dwalin made a disapproving noise and moved forward, taking Ori's hand in his and adjusting his hold. "It has to be part of ye," he said softly as he let his hand rest just so. "Feel the difference."
Ori felt a difference, certainly. Both in the blade and in his own breathing. It hitched just a bit when Dwalin touched him and he hoped the warrior hadn't noticed. "Like this, then?" he murmured as he shifted just slightly.
Dwalin stifled a growl and stepped closer, letting his arm rest along the line of Ori's, molding them together. "Try this."
Ori's face flamed but he tried to concentrate on what Dwalin was teaching. The feel of the blade in his hands CHANGED, became easier and stronger. But was it because of Dwalin reinforcing it, or just his touch? Ori didn't know. And right now, he didn't care. He let himself relax, letting his slighter body rest against Dwalin's, letting the older show him what he needed to know. Never mind that he was having a hard time concentrating with Dwalin in such close contact. The feel of him against Ori was maddening, making him hot and cold by turns and he hoped the other wouldn't notice.
Dwalin moved closer, holding Ori's hands around the knife, his chest against the lad's back to be able to guide him completely. It didn't hurt that he found the lad a treat to watch. He was young, but he was strong. And while that sling wasn't a worthwhile weapon against a real foe, Ori used it to good effect. He'd nearly put out that warg's eye with it. But that wasn't what Dwalin was thinking about now.
He wanted Ori to be able to defend himself, but it was more than that. It was protective, and tender, and possessive, and Dori would kill him. He didn't care. The lad was of age and perfectly able to make such a decision.
Right now, though, he had a lesson to finish, if he could. If he could keep from just turning the lad around and kissing the breath out of him. Oh, he'd known Ori was watching him for a long time, and he had been patient. He had waited as long as he could and now that he had the boy in his arms, he knew what he wanted. IF it was what Ori wanted as well.
"Right," he growled as he drew his attention back once more. "Move like this." He suited actions to words, letting Ori feel the way he drew the blade along the air. He ran a few practice passes, letting Ori experience the way it worked, and then just stood, not releasing his scribe but no longer moving. "Good. That's good, Ori. Think ye could do that yerself?"
Ori nodded once. He didn't trust himself to speak. Having Dwalin so near was having an unfortunate effect on him and he didn't want the warrior to notice. He wanted to just turn around and kiss the older dwarf, but he was afraid. Afraid that it would be too forward, afraid the other didn't want the same thing from him. Afraid. He fought to still the tremors that threatened, not knowing if they were from fear or desire. Or both. "Let me try," he finally murmured.
Dwalin stepped back, keenly feeling the loss of Ori's warmth against him, and leaned against the wall to watch. Ori didn't do half bad for never having any true training. All his life, the boy had wanted to be a scribe, had learned to fight with words rather than actions. He was ill suited for this quest, and yet had volunteered full willing, knowing the danger. And that made Dwalin admire him all the more. "Someone needs to record it for our histories," Ori had said at the outset.
Ori finished the pass and looked over to Dwalin, half expecting a harsh criticism. This wasn't at all like Fíli and Kíli had told him their training had been, when they cornered him the night before to warn him about Dwalin's tactics. "Brutal," Fíli had said, and Kíli had added, "Painful. He'll knock you about till you get it right." And he'd done none of those things. He'd been more than gentle.
"Good. Ye'll need t'keep practicin, though." Dwalin came close again and Ori blushed. Did he know what the scribe was thinking, what he was feeling? What Ori wanted from him? He was being entirely too gentle for what Ori expected. Especially after Fíli and Kíli had sat with him late into the night, talking about how Dwalin had trained THEM.
Dwalin sighed heavily and took hold of Ori's free hand. He had to say something, and he had to do it now, or he'd lose his nerve. The lad was already a friend, and he wanted more. He had to at least try. "Ori, I've got – there's somethin I'd like t'ask. Ye kin say no, if ye want, and it'll be over."
"I accept." Ori caught Dwalin's eye and held it. "I accepted Bleeder, Dwalin, did you really think I would refuse you wanting to court me? It was a wonderful gift." Oh, dear. That was NOT what he had meant to say. What if Dwalin hadn't been asking that particular question? The gift of the knife aside, how did Ori really know Dwalin wanted to court him? He blushed heavily. "That is, if that's what you're asking, of course." He looked down in embarrassment.
Dwalin tipped his face up and kissed him gently. "That's what I'm askin," he agreed quietly. "Yer sure?"
"I've never been more sure of anything." Ori grinned then. "But I'm afraid we'll still have to work with this. I want to be able to protect myself so you don't have to do it." His smile faded then. "You've more important people to protect than me."
"There is NO ONE more important to me than you, Ori," Dwalin said fiercely. "I have a responsibility to Thorin and the lads, but that doesn't change what I feel fer you. And that said, let's really get t'work. Ye've a lot t'learn, and we'll be leavin here soon." He drew his own dagger. "Watch me, and repeat."
(Later that same day)
That night, after dinner, Dwalin approached Dori where he sat with his brothers. Ori held his breath. Dwalin wanted to court him, but was he really going to talk to Dori? Now? In front of Nori? He was suddenly very afraid.
"I'd like a word with ye, Dori," the warrior said gruffly as he stood before the older Dwarf.
"I rather thought you might," Dori replied with a sniff. "Giving Ori a knife? What were you thinking?" He couldn't credit that Ori had asked such a thing of Dwalin in the first place, not his gentle, bookish youngest brother.
"I was thinking that he needed to be able to fight, to protect himself," Dwalin replied with a stifled growl. "Being a scribe is a good thing, Dori, but he needs help out here and ye can't always watch over him. Neither can I."
"Of course you can't. Your first responsibility is to Thorin." But Dori was softening slightly, at least in that regard. "Fine. But the knife will be returned. It's entirely inappropriate."
"Not if I'm courting yer brother."
Dwalin's words fell into silence and Dori stared at him for a long moment. Nori snorted and looked away, a tiny smile on his lips. This was going to be good.
"Courting Ori?" Dori sounded incredulous. "He's much too young. Certainly too young for these kinds of decisions."
"I'm of age, Dori," Ori broke in smoothly, his voice even but firm. "And I am perfectly capable of making decisions. Dwalin approached me quite properly about courting me and I've accepted."
"I doubt it was proper," Dori muttered darkly. Then he sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I'm only looking out for your best interests, Ori. What could you possibly have in common? He's a warrior, you're a scribe. It will never work."
"Dori, leave off." Nori snorted again. "He's old enough to lay his life on the line for this quest. That makes him old enough to make this decision."
"It was quite proper." Ori pressed his advantage. He hadn't quite expected Nori to support him, but he was glad of it. "As for having things in common – you don't know him well enough to know that. And having grown up with Balin I'm quite sure he at least knows how to read well. He has knowledge of history, having helped to write some of it." Azunulbizar came to mind and he wouldn't remind Dwalin of it but he was sure Dori would understand.
"I will care for him until my dying breath," Dwalin said into the ensuing silence. Dori seemed completely nonplussed by the mere thought of Ori being courted, and not just because it was Dwalin. He rather thought Dori would be just as discomfited by anyone trying to get close to his youngest brother. "True, my first responsibility is to Thorin. But I will say this: I will not allow harm to come to Ori if it is in any way in my power to prevent it. That means I will teach him to use that blade, and anything else he might need to survive in the wild. With or without yer permission."
"Yes, well, teaching him survival is I suppose necessary," Dori admitted with a frown. "But courting him certainly isn't."
"It is, because I want him to." Ori wasn't backing down and Nori gave him full marks for stubbornness. "This isn't about me being courted, Dori. It's about me growing up and you not wanting me to." He caught Dori's eye and held it, willing him to understand. "I'm an adult. And this might not go anywhere. That's what courting is for, to see if we can get along together well enough. But Dwalin wants to court me, and I want him to court me, and I agreed to let him court me. So you need to let go of me enough for it to happen or I will be miserable and that will upset you, too. Please don't make me choose."
"Dori." Nori put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Come with me for a minute." He led his brother a short distance away while making certain Dori had an unobstructed view of both Dwalin and Ori, if only to ease his mind that nothing improper was going to happen. "Dori, listen to me."
Dori made a noise of assent, but his eyes never left Ori. "What is it?"
"You have to let this happen." Nori knew he'd get that stare, and there it was. Dori wasn't even thinking about watching the others. His attention was on Nori, now, and shock radiated from every inch of him. "Think about what we're doing. This quest – it's bloody dangerous. We all knew it when we agreed to come. And look at everything that's happened so far." His voice was soft; he didn't want Ori overhearing. "You agreed to let him come along, and look where it's gotten him. Almost eaten by trolls, Wargs, nearly killed by Orcs... he needs to learn. And not just defense."
He waited a moment, but when Dori said nothing, he chose his words carefully. "He may never have another chance to be happy, Dori. And he's happy now. Look at him!" Ori was smiling about something Dwalin had said, and he was showing off something in his book. That in itself spoke volumes to Nori about the attachment between them. Ori showed no one that book, even Dori. "Would you take that away from him? We could all die as soon as we leave here. Let him die happy."
"And what about you, then?" Dori no longer watched the youngest. Nori was his brother as well. "Don't you deserve the same? You watch Bofur when you think he isn't watching you. You've stolen his things, and you only do that to tease when there's no profit in it for you. Why won't you take your own advice?"
"We're not talking about me." Nori wanted to stop this before it started. This was about Ori, not him. He wasn't about to start thinking about Bofur right now. Curse Dori anyway for putting him in a corner; if he disputed the point, then it invalidated his argument for Ori as well. "This is about Ori. And if you're being honest, you'll know I'm right." But Dori knew he was watching Bofur. This was bad. This was very bad. He had to stop.
He didn't want to.
He wanted Bofur near. Not necessarily as anything more than his friend and occasional lover, but he couldn't stand the thought of destroying what they had, whatever it was. He couldn't do it. He wouldn't. Bofur would never forgive him for that kind of hurt.
Dori was shaking his head. "I'll let this happen, then. I just hope you realize what you're giving up before it's too late." He touched Nori's shoulder lightly and then returned to Ori, offering his hand to Dwalin. Nori was close enough to hear Dori inform the warrior that if he hurt Ori in any fashion, there would be nowhere he could hide from Dori's wrath. He saw Ori's blush of shame and heard Dwalin agreeing to those terms.
That was all he waited for. He had to find somewhere to think.