Hello friends!
We are back in action! I hope this chapter was worth the wait!
Special thanks to RivvyElf over at Ao3 for beta-reading this chapter. Feel free to leave any feedback! I was super thrilled to hear from a couple of followers of the original story during my hiatus. Return readers give me the warm and fuzzies!
With all of that said, see you in a couple of weeks!
-Kim
If Aragorn was someone Brili had considered her best friend, then Elrond's daughter, Arwen, was a close second. Brili had gone through a very clumsy phase during her first year of training under Aragorn, which had resulted in frequent trips to healing rooms for mending. Arwen had fair to modest skill in healing, so the two became acquainted quickly.
Suffice it to say that Arwen was not surprised to learn of Brili's condition upon her arrival.
"Well met again, Brili, although your return is earlier than I had expected. I should have foreseen this…" Arwen sighed, fetching her supplies from a small cupboard. "The mending of your ankle shall be first. If you can manage to keep still for but a moment..."
Brili loved elvish medicine—the skills of the elves by far surpassed that of any dwarf. Elvish medicine had magic incorporated into it, something the dwarves could never master. The result was that most injuries were faster to heal and usually with less pain involved. She rarely had to stay in the healing ward overnight. The few times she had visited, though she had found that she enjoyed herself, this part of Rivendell was always peaceful and full of warm sunlight to promote healing. The only real downside was, well, all the sitting that was required.
Obediently, Brili rolled her ankle a few times while Arwen ran her hands calculatingly over the back of her head. Her ankle was a little stiff but no longer as painful as before.
"The bump left on your head shall recede by morning. You spoke of nausea and vomiting when you arrived?"
Bri nodded. "I fainted for a while, and I've had a pounding headache since I got home."
Adrenaline is funny; she hadn't felt her headache when they'd been running from the orc pack. Now that everything was quiet, her head wasted no time reminding her that she was likely concussed. Arwen hummed as she poured hot water into a wooden cup.
"You shall rest here for the time being as your condition will need to be monitored. There shall be no training, no patrol duty, and"–Arwen looked pointedly at her–'' no practice yard. Though the damage has been stemmed, your body requires rest."
Brili pouted. "You spoil all of my fun."
"I shall await your thanks when you are back to health, as usual," was Arwen's crisp reply.
"You never said that the bath was off limits…" Brili noted with a smug smile.
Arwen's delicate brow arched in perfect time as she wrinkled her nose. "While you may not be evil, your odor may suggest otherwise, and the other bathers would never forgive me if allowed you near the baths in your condition."
"You can hardly allow me to stew in my own filth!"
Arwen rolled her eyes but smiled nevertheless, discarding the dregs from the brew she'd been steeping. "We are in agreement, so I've arranged for a warm bath to be prepared in the next room. I do not recommend falling asleep in this one like you did the last: my father would like you to join him for supper."
Arwen placed a cup into Brili's hands before ushering her off the bed and immediately stripping the dirty linens from the mattress. Bri frowned into her tea. Why would Lord Elrond request something like that? She couldn't recall a time that she was invited to share a meal with him before… However, before she could inquire further, Arwen pushed her out of the main healing area and through a set of velvet curtains where a metal drum steamed with hot water in the middle of a small room.
While Brili stripped out of her dirty clothes, wincing as she noticed some parts were stiff with dried blood, Arwen went to work putting the finishing touches on the bath. Before long, the floral scent of bath oils had filled the small space. With a swish of her gown, Arwen left the room. And, not wanting to miss even a second of precious pampering time, Brili gulped down the remedial tea and wasted no time climbing in.
It felt nice to be alone for the first time in weeks, and she bet that she would sleep like a rock after dinner.
Humming cheerfully, she made quick, efficient work scrubbing the dirt and warg blood from her arms. Thanks to the trolls and the orc pack, she still had a few minor scrapes and more than her fair share of bruises. Arwen hadn't bothered to waste her energy on those minor injuries. All things considered, though, Brili felt pretty good.
"Not bad for a dwarf-girl," she boasted to the empty room, rubbing her soapy hands through her short curls to try and wash some of the blood out.
She wasn't thrilled about the mandatory rest that Arwen had placed her under. Brili always got a bit restless after too many days without training. She had been even worse back when she'd lived in the Blue Mountains, probably because she had fewer opportunities to let that energy out. Her uncle would have praised her 'warrior's heart' if she'd been born a boy like her brothers. She very likely would have been invited to retake Erebor with them. Instead, she was branded as a restless soul and was expected to grow out of her childish energy.
But here, that energy was prized and nurtured. She wasn't expected to stifle her ambitions to become a warrior. In Rivendell, Brili was encouraged and taught how to become the warrior she wished to be. There was no doubt in her mind that this was where she belonged. She'd been treated far better in Rivendell than when she'd lived in the Blue Mountains.
No, that wasn't entirely true. For what it was worth, Fili and Kili had tried their best to help her live out those daydreams. She could safely say that their influence had shaped her into who she was. If they hadn't been the ones to teach her the basics of swordplay, then she'd never have learned her passion for the craft. If they had never snuck her out of the mountain to explore the world around it, she would never have envisioned being more than a simple princess. Well, not that any of this mattered now…
They were effectively out of her life again, and things could return to normal.
Her musings were cut short by the curtain being thrown back again, revealing Arwen's return with a fresh rag to towel off with and some navy fabric thrown over her shoulder.
"Ah, still awake, I see. Please, do not tarry lest you want me to take drastic action," she warned, placing the drying cloth on a bench. "I made you another wrap dress while you were away. And good thing I did. You only have one article of clothing not made for sleeping or your activewear."
Brili groaned before dunking her head underwater to rinse her hair out. This would be where her and Arwen's tastes diverged. Brili had no interest whatsoever in fashion. The last thing she wanted was to be stuffed into a dress after the month she just had. She'd take a tunic and breeches over a gown any day.
"Has it ever occurred to you that there is a reason for my wardrobe?" Brili grumbled once she came up for air.
Arwen tutted. "Need I remind you that you're dining with my father? While he may not mind, others might."
The water sloshed over the side of the tub as Brili climbed out, once again cringing when she noticed the pink hue the water had taken. It certainly hadn't been that color when she'd gotten in. As she began to pat herself dry, Arwen began to rake a comb through the dwarf's tangled hair.
"I don't like dresses, you know that."
"And yet others do, myself included. You know that not everyone is like my father or I; others may look down upon you for not wearing one."
Brili couldn't stop the smirk from creeping up her face. "I find that most people look down upon me, regardless of how I'm dressed."
When Arwen didn't respond to Brili's joke, she knew there was no further point in arguing. If she was dining with Elrond, there was always the possibility of other guests. Elven politics could be remarkably complicated sometimes. She'd have to put up with whatever concoction Arwen had conjured up for a few hours before stashing it in the back of her wardrobe like the other piece of finery she owned.
After taking several minutes to bind her breasts, Arwen draped the thin fabric over Brili's shoulders. Bri was relieved to notice that the dress was another wrap-style gown, and the light material would keep her cool during the warm season. The girls draped the gown properly, reminding Brili a little of the hobbit when she'd first met him in his housecoat before tightly binding her waist with an off-white ribbon. To complete the ensemble, Arwen arranged the sash into an intricate knot that rested in the middle of Brili's back. After fussing over the final look, Arwen ushered the dwarf to a long mirror to show off her handiwork. The dress was positively regal, a rich navy color with a gold and ivory brocade pattern to liven the gown. Brili was reluctant to admit it wasn't nearly as bad as she'd initially thought it would be.
Okay, she actually liked the dress.
As if able to read her mind, Arwen practically began to glow with pride. "Your eyes cannot lie, my friend. You like it, as I knew you would."
"Fine, fine. You win this one. Don't expect me to get dressed up like this all the time, though. For one, I can't properly tie the bow in the back."
"I made a matching belt for your future use," the elf maiden assured as she fluffed Bri's hair. "Promise me that you will leave your hair down? For hair so short, you always manage to have it tied back."
"You won't be joining us?"
Arwen shook her head. "I am afraid not. My father said something about hosting visitors to Imladris, honored guests this evening."
Brili's gut soured immediately. "What honored guests?"
Arwen's reply was a bit too flippant for Brili's comfort. "You shall find out. We'd best not delay."
~o~
The pair walked in comfortable silence towards the dining area, Brili trying not to overthink Arwen's cryptic statement. She very much hoped that her uncle was not one of those honored guests she spoke about. There was no telling what he would do or say to Elrond if he was. Along the way, Arwen and Brili passed Aragorn, who had just left the bathhouse Brili so desperately wanted to visit. Arwen excused herself not long after his arrival, leaving Brili with Aragorn to escort her to dinner.
Damn, Brili had been hoping to weasel more information out of Arwen.
"You have brought an entire mountain of dwarves with you," Aragorn said, his eyes never lowering to look at her.
"There are hardly enough of them to say that it's a whole mountain's worth. I think you're exaggerating," she answered distractedly. She looked up to see Aragorn smiling, a playful smirk that creased the corner of his eye. "And I didn't bring them. That's Gandalf's handiwork. I was but an innocent bystander."
"Is it possible that these dwarves might connect you with your missing past?"
It was such an innocent question, but it still sent a jolt of panic through Brili. She didn't want to lie to Aragorn about this. Then again, she probably shouldn't have lied to him about her memories. Part of her wondered if it would be worth pretending she had no idea who the dwarves were. No, she had a feeling that another lie would only cause more trouble than she had already found herself in.
"In a manner of speaking," she finally admitted cryptically, "I may be related to a few of them…"
Aragorn's eyes shifted, and he finally peered down at her. "Like distant relations? Have they revealed anything of importance?"
"No… Not so distant… Two of them are… my brothers."
He stopped short, Brili walking a couple of paces before she noticed that he was no longer beside her. "Surely you jest..."
"I wish I was."
"This is good news, then! It seems your search has come to an end. What does this mean for you? Will you return home with them?"
Her hands curled into fists at her sides. "Absolutely not. Rivendell is my home now."
Aragorn started walking again, his hand rubbing his stubble thoughtfully. Self-consciously, Brili's hand went straight for her chin, and she had to stifle an audible groan. Her beard was growing in again. She hadn't had time to remove it during the bath. She still couldn't figure out how no one in her family had caught on that she shaved her beard. Not that there was much to shave, really, a smattering of chin hairs and her sideburns.
Aragorn cleared his throat next to her. "You do not seem as pleased to see your family as I would expect… Is there something I ought to be aware of?"
"I'd prefer you didn't ask."
"A yes, then. You have never been a good liar."
Despite herself, Brili started giggling. She was a much better liar than he believed. "You think not?"
"Were they not pleased to see you? Did they not recognize you?"
Brili sighed, running her fingers through her cropped hair; the bulk of it had already begun to dry. "I… Aragorn, I may not have been exactly honest when I arrived here."
"Go on."
"I never lost my memory," she blurted out, cringing as she said it. "I ran away from home five years ago. When Gandalf found me, I was afraid that if anyone knew who I was, they would send me back, so I… told him that I didn't… A-Are you laughing at me?"
He was, in fact, laughing at her. Not as loudly or boisterously as a dwarf would laugh but more of a soft chuckle that was only evident in his shaking shoulders.
"Apologies," he finally amended once the amused expression subsided, "I told you that you were a poor liar only a moment ago."
"You aren't angry with me?" She bit her lower lip nervously.
He frowned. "I find no reason to be angry… If you went to such great lengths to hide your identity, I should think you had a good reason."
She nodded as another weight she didn't realize she was carrying lifted off her. Had her shoulders always been this tense?
The two continued down the hall towards the terrace where Elrond frequently hosted guests, the most recent visitor being King Thranduil of the Greenwood. That had been a few years ago; she'd only just started training under Aragorn around that time.
"So," Aragorn pressed, "you say you left your home? Would you like to share why?"
"Let's just say that my family and I don't see eye to eye at the moment."
He laughed so sharply that it almost sounded like a bark. "We have never seen eye to eye."
She elbowed his ribs as a warning. "You're not nearly as funny as you think you are."
"I hear that my wit is sharper than my blade." He smirked lightly, a twitch to the corner of his lip more than anything, before inclining his head towards her. "Though I must ask, will your discovery reveal anything requiring extradition? Crimes of war or acts of treason? Mutiny?"
Brili did little to try and hide her disgust over the accusation. "You trained me. Did it look like I could have been capable of war crimes?"
"Not particularly, no, but one can never be too careful these days," he answered. "You may be pleased to know that as long as you are not seeking asylum for any crimes committed, Elrond should see no issue with your remaining here."
Well, that was a huge relief. Thank goodness for that.
"I will lead you up the stairs before I take my leave," Aragorn told her as they approached the dais.
She hated that idea; there was a lot of mumbling from up there. Distinctly male mumbling. "Don't tell me that you're not joining us either…"
First Arwen and now Aragorn, Brili was starting to think that she had been invited to this meal specifically because she was a dwarf and no other reason.
A scoff from her friend as he practically pushed her up the stairs with a hand between her shoulder blades. "No, I was not invited to this gathering beyond ensuring you arrived on time."
A few steps towards the open area confirmed Brili's suspicions. The entire company was seated neatly at small stone benches with salad bowls filled to the brim. The bread baskets seemed to be the only thing making real headway, though, not that she was surprised by that little detail. As a matter of fact, it appeared that Bilbo was the only one enjoying the salad at all.
"You know…" she said quietly. "I think I'd rather have my supper in the kitchens."
Aragorn merely rolled his eyes and gripped her shoulder firmly. The moment they'd reached the top step, fourteen pairs of eyes fell upon them; it had started slowly at first, only the ones facing them looking, but before long, the others boldly turned in their seats to watch her. She felt like she would give almost anything to be able to turn tail and run.
But her damn dress was too tight around the ankles to allow for a quick retreat.
"My Lord," Aragorn said quietly to Lord Elrond, bowing respectfully before pushing Brili towards the table with a light shove.
"Yes, thank you, Aragorn," Elrond answered politely before turning his attention to Brili and gesturing to the open chair at the table with an open hand. "Please, have a seat, Brili. I see my daughter has had you in her clutches this evening. A fine creation on her part. I'm glad that her sewing lessons were not without merit."
Of course, the only open seat left was the one between Gandalf and Thorin.
"My Lord," she greeted as she bowed, ignoring the pointed grumbles from the company behind her. "Thank you for the opportunity to dine with you this evening."
Elrond tutted good-naturedly at her as she stiffly marched to her seat with a glance spared at Aragorn's departing form. "None of that. I should think the two of us have long dispensed of formalities."
If she could have commissioned a portrait of how sour Thorin's expression had become, Brili was sure that it would entertain her for the rest of her life. It took only a moment for that expression to land on her, and Brili had to stifle a groan. If she hadn't seen that look dozens of times when she was a dwarfling… She started thinking that the warg would have been a more honorable death.
An attendant breezed past her and placed a water goblet and a small glass of wine by her plate. Brili knew from experience that Arwen would ream her out for drinking with a head injury, but… considering the circumstances…
She went straight for the wine glass.
"Tell me, Brili, did you know of Thorin Oakenshield before this quest?" Elrond asked politely. "Stories of him, I mean."
She swished the wine briefly before swallowing, relishing in the currant undertones. Ah, yes, there was a hint of raspberry in there as well…
"You see, my lord, I—"
Thorin interrupted her with a scorching glare in Elrond's direction. "She is my niece. May I ask how you know her?"
If Elrond was surprised by Thorin's statement, he did not express it outwardly. "Oh? What a coincidence… She has sought refuge here for nearly half a decade while trying to regain some of her missing memories."
Both she and Gandalf choked into their wine glasses.
"Is that so?" Thorin slowly turned his face to her, and the look he gave her could only be described as disgusted. "Lost memories… You don't say."
Well, if she wasn't dead before, she definitely was now. She tried to avoid his scrutiny by watching a flutist pace between the tables and pointedly ignoring the leering laughter from the others below. For the time being, Elrond turned his attention to Gandalf, leaving Thorin to brood darkly at his niece.
"So this is where you have been hiding," her uncle murmured in her direction. "You have always been clever. I'll give you that much."
She didn't give him a response, just twisted her lips into a sneer before taking another long swig of her drink.
"You have a sword at your hip, Thorin," Elrond called out, to Brili's relief. "Could I see it?"
Reluctantly and with no small amount of distrust lacing his expression, Thorin handed a sheathed weapon over to the elven ruler. Elrond scrutinized it, his brows drawing together in thought as he looked over the hilt of the blade and the scabbard before partially unsheathing it.
"Why, this is Orcrist… The Goblin Cleaver, a famous blade," he murmured before holding it out for Brili to admire. (Her fascination with weaponry was no secret in these parts.) "Forged by the high elves of the west, my kin."
He snapped the sword back into place and returned it to Thorin.
"May it serve you well."
Brili was relieved to notice that her uncle at least had the courtesy to tilt his head politely at the gesture. Although, if you were to ask her, Elrond would have been better off keeping the sword for posterity's sake for all the appreciation her uncle would have for it. Gandalf handed a second blade over to Elrond, who treated it with the same care as he had Orcrist.
"How did you come by these weapons, Mithrandir?" Elrond asked.
"We found them in a troll hoard on the East Road," Gandalf answered, his voice the perfect pitch of innocence, "shortly before we were ambushed by orcs."
Unfortunately for Gandalf, one does not rule an elven sanctuary for centuries like Elrond has without learning a thing or two. Whatever veil the wizard thought he was going to pull over Elrond's eyes would not be so easy.
"And what were you doing on the East Road?"
"Well, I, ah…"
Next to Brili, a chair scraped loudly, Thorin rising from his seat. "Excuse me."
Brili couldn't imagine feeling more relieved by his departure. She sighed deeply and finally put her glass of wine down to drink some water. Elrond regarded Thorin's departure calculatingly before speaking again.
"Thirteen dwarves, a halfling, and one of my city's rangers," he said slowly, his eyes settling on her briefly. "Strange traveling companions, Gandalf."
"Elrond, these are the descendants of the house of Durin. They're noble, decent folk and are surprisingly cultured; they've a deep love of the arts."
"And were you aware of my ranger's association with them before or after you commissioned her for her most recent assignment?"
Gandalf looked at her, his expression begging her to help him out of the mess he'd found himself in, and she purposely looked away. It was high time someone put that oaf of a wizard in his place for the absolute disaster he'd gotten her into. Gandalf's silence told Elrond all that he needed to know.
"Meddling again, I see…" he sighed, sipping his glass and giving the wizard a sidelong look. "Mithrandir, how many times must I warn you that…"
Elrond's admonition was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of rattling cutlery. Brili's eyes shot over towards the company where, to her absolute horror, her intended husband was walking on the table. Brili's hand gripped her fork so tightly that the metal began to warp in her grip.
I understand this is a bit of a shock, milady.
And just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, he began to sing… And then dance. She turned to apologize to Elrond for the absolute indecency that he was being forced to bear witness to when a bread roll whacked her upside the head. She yelped loudly only to see Kili rearing his arm back to toss another, a careless wink thrown in her direction.
Why… These brutes!
The elves in attendance, except for Elrond, had begun sneaking glances at her warily as if they expected her to start throwing her meal like some sort of ill-mannered heathen as well. Her face flushed red in humiliation as the image she'd spent five years carefully cultivating was torn apart before her eyes. The friends she had made in Rivendell knew that she would never treat their kindness so carelessly. Still, not every elf in Rivendell knew her character or appreciated her presence like Aragorn or Arwen did.
The arrival of these dwarves had just taken her masterfully curated reputation and destroyed it.
"Pardon me, Lord Elrond," she stiffly announced over the roar of the dwarves now praising Bofur like he was some cheap entertainer. "I'm afraid I must return to the healing rooms to rest."
She rose from her seat without waiting to be excused and could not hide her watery eyes. Then, as quickly as she could, she marched smoothly across the dais and away from the dwarves. Wasn't it bad enough that Bofur had been allowed to ruin her life once before? Why now, after she'd worked so hard to escape his reach, had he come to ruin this life as well? She hastily brushed a tear from her eye as she went down the familiar halls towards the healing ward.
Brili knew better than to partake in alcohol with a head injury. And if she had avoided it like she should, then she might have noticed that she was being followed.
~o~
"Briiiiili," a familiar voice called out, their voice saying her name in a sing-song fashion. "Oh, Briiiliii."
"Not now, 'Wen," she grumbled, burrowing her face in the pillow. "Resting."
"You've been 'resting' for three days, little sister," the voice argued.
Eh? Arwen has called her many things in their time together—moronic, reckless, amusing, to name a few—but "little sister" had never been one of them. Brili became uncomfortably aware that Arwen was not likely disturbing her rest that fine morning. The voice speaking to her should have given that away, for starters.
And to think she was expecting to be brought breakfast in bed again…
She shifted in the bed, not her bed, as she was still in the healing ward, to look where the voice was coming from. She immediately wished that she hadn't. Leaning against the bedpost was Kili with a half-eaten apple in one hand and the other dangling centimeters from her feet, one foot having escaped the safety of the sheets overnight.
"Ah! You're awake!" He looked mighty pleased with himself.
"W-what are you doing here?" she managed to stammer, her hands gripping her bedsheet. Weapons were not allowed in the healing wards on principle, so she briefly wondered how much effort it would take to choke her brother unconscious with a sheet. "This is a private area."
He frowned at her after biting into his apple. "No, it's not. I just told your elf buddies that I needed a doctor."
Brili narrowed her eyes at him. "For what?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Kili wiggled his brows at her playfully.
"What are you doing here, Kili?"
Strange, that lump in her throat was back…
"Checking on you. Fi's worried."
"That's not a good reason."
Kili dared to sit on the foot of her bed like she'd invited him to join her. She curled her legs up in a sincere, futile effort to create some distance between them. As much as she would like to forget it, she had lived with Kili for sixty years and knew that look in his eye was nothing but trouble.
"You know this area, right?"
She blinked at him slowly. "Know…? I've lived here for five years. Of course, I know this area…"
He nodded. "Thought you might. Tell me, is there some festival or event happening around this time of year?"
Was he talking about the Midsummer celebration? The elves always held an entertaining fortnight to celebrate the height of summer. They'd be preparing for that now if they hadn't already started to. She wondered if it were too late to sign up for one or two competitions they would be holding. There was a decent mock sword contest that Brili had taken to enjoying.
But none of this was information she wanted her brother to know.
"No…" she answered, crossing her legs to prop herself and her confidence a little higher. "There's not."
He frowned at her. "Funny… it looks like there might be… They've been putting up decorations."
"Must be something private then. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to…" She was interrupted by Kili suddenly gripping her chin between his thumb and middle finger, tilting her face from side to side. "What are you doing?!"
Kili looked positively elated. "Your beard's finally growing in!"
Shit. She'd never gotten the chance to shave it, had she?
"No, it's not," she argued, her eyes narrowing as he released her face.
"It is! Mum's going to be thrilled when she finds out."
"She's not going to find anything out."
Again, the thought that she might be able to use the bedsheets to incapacitate her brother crossed her mind. Unfortunately, said brother had already leaped off her mattress and was bounding towards the exit. If not for a well-executed sidestep, he'd have crashed into Arwen on his way out the door.
"I've brought your breakfast," Arwen announced as she approached Brili's bed, her eyes focused on the dark-haired blur that had whirl-winded past her. "A friend of yours?"
Brili burrowed her head into the pillow and groaned loudly.