Hello friends!
I am proud to present the latest chapter in Brili's adventures for the last time in 2023! A big thank you to RivvyElf over at Ao3 for beta reading this chapter!
I'll be taking a respite for the rest of December to spend some time with my partner and volunteering at my local animal shelter. I plan on picking updates back up around January 11th, give or take a week. I hope everyone has a happy holiday season and a wonderful New Year.
As always, I am so grateful for your support! I wasn't sure how I would feel rewriting this story so long after I started the original and I'm thankful for all the feedback, kind words, and friends I've made along the way. I look forward to coming back in 2024, officially ten years after I wrote the first version. Should the spirit move you, you are more than welcome to share any thoughts you had on this chapter. 3
-Kim
Brili was not a fan of any weapon that did not come with a sharp end attached. She had found her niche in swordplay and was not shy about that fact. It had made training her exponentially easier. When Aragorn first met her, he had been pleased to note that she had a decent foundation of skill with a blade. They had been able to build off of that essential understanding. After she had a good grasp of swords, they began incorporating knives into her array of weaponry. The dwarf girl was remarkably fluid and thus could be lethal, with a blade nearly any size.
So, one could only imagine how surprised he was to find Brili in the practice room brandishing a hammer that was nearly her size and practically double her body weight. Using both arms to bear the load and lifting with her legs, she heaved the hammer over her shoulder before violently shouting as she used the momentum of her weapon to demolish a defenseless wooden dummy. After watching his recruit quickly destroy three practice dummies, he decided to intervene.
Really, some of the finest artisans built those dummies, but they were not made with that kind of use in mind.
He cleared his throat loudly. The heavy mallet dropped to the ground with a loud thump just before Brili peered owlishly at him over her shoulder, lower lip trembling. Her face was soaked from tears that she wasn't even attempting to reign in. The grossest notable thing was that she had a line of snot dripping out her nose.
With a loud sniffle, she warbled, "A-Aragorn…"
He waited patiently for her continue. Instead, she turned around and attacked another dummy. Aragorn watched as Brili struck the dummy five times; two to fell her opponent and then three additional attacks when it was already on the ground. Overkill. A waste of valuable energy. She knew better than that.
"I"—a loud heave escaped her as fresh tears pooled out of her eyes—"hate them!"
"Would you care to elaborate on—"
More snot dripped from her nose as she wrapped her hands around the hammer again. "No."
Quickly, he lurched forward to grip the handle just above her hands. "Perhaps a break would serve you well?"
The girl paused, a gurgle escaping her throat as she hiccuped. With a sigh, she nodded slowly and loosened her grip on the hammer. Aragorn quickly confiscated it and returned it to the pile of weapons by the entrance. After a moment, he turned to join her. Brili was sitting on the ground, her upper half sagged against a fence post, with her eyes closed.
"They want me to go with them," she informed him softly.
"I've heard."
Silence stretched between them, the breeze undoubtedly cooling some of the sweat and tears from Brili's face.
"I don't want to… I never wanted to see them again, you know."
"So you've told me. Still, this will be good for you."
She cracked a puffy eye open, and her brow furrowed. "Good, how?"
He leaned back against the fence, eyes on the assortment of practice weaponry. "It will be quite the story to tell. And there is no better teacher than experience. What better way to put my teachings into practice?"
Brili scoffed, wiping her forehead on her sleeve again. "That may be so, but after the journey has ended, I fear that I won't be able to return."
"I have every faith that you'll find a way if you put your mind to it."
"And what will I do? Where will I be able to grow roots? I fear that there will be nowhere to hide afterward… They will lock me away again."
"Mmm, about that," he murmured, reaching into his pocket.
After rummaging for a moment, a few coins jingling against his fingers, he produced a simple leather cord threaded through an iron medallion. He stared at it momentarily before holding it out to Brili, who still had one eye open to glare at him. When she didn't move to take it, he wiggled it in her line of vision enticingly.
"What is it?" she asked him, holding her hand out so he could drop it into her palm.
"You've always asked me where I go when I'm not here training you," he began, the faint hint of an amused smirk tugging on the corner of his mouth.
"And you would always tell me to mind my own business."
Brili ran her hands over the medallion thoughtfully, blunt fingertips tracing a raised star in the center of the medallion. Aragorn knew she would recognize the symbol even if she didn't understand it. She would have seen it as a brooch on his cloak numerous times. He'd considered commissioning a similar brooch but decided to give her something she could hide on her person instead.
"That is the symbol of the Dúnedain, my people," he finally told her. "Everything I've taught you was not the ways of Rivendell but the ways of the Dúnedain."
She stopped tracing the symbol, her eyes going round. "Are you sure that you can… give me this?"
Aragorn nodded, a proud gleam in his eye. "You are my recruit, are you not? With this symbol, you are marked as one of the Dúnedain, and you will always have a home with them if you wish."
Brili was silent for so long that Aragorn briefly worried that he might have upset her. Suddenly, she shifted so quickly and launched herself into his chest, arms thrown around his shoulders, and started squalling all over again, which had been what he was trying to avoid. He pat her back as a growing wet spot, which he was sure was not solely made up of tears, grew on his brown tunic.
After a few moments, she pulled away, wiping her eye with the heel of her palm. "You mean it? I-I can stay with you and your people?"
He nodded, a hand on her shoulder. "If you cannot reconcile with your family, I encourage you to go towards the wilds before Bree. My people will protect your identity. Please, stop crying now. You'll dry yourself out at this rate."
Brili nodded as she slipped the leather cord over her head and around her neck, tucking the medallion to hide in her tunic.
"Good. Now, that's not the only reason I went looking for you."
"Oh? What is it? Did you need something?"
"I came to inform you that you'll be participating in the tournament in my stead tomorrow."
She blinked slowly at him. "I… What? But Arwen didn't let me compete after the qualifiers…"
"Mhmm," he agreed. "But I have urgent business to attend to. I'll leave at first light tomorrow to head for my people."
"Tomorrow is the semifinals, though."
"Then I suggest you don your gear and practice," he suggested lightly, rising from the ground and stretching out his limbs. His shoulder blades cracked as he rotated his arms. "Do you have time to spar?"
As expected, when he reached a hand out for her, she took it without hesitation.
~o~
Under normal circumstances, Brili would have considered the day to be a good one.
On the surface, it was a good day if it were not for a persistent cloud of dread looming over every thought.
Grumbling, she sank deeper into the warm water of the communal bathing area until her chin was under the surface. The steam cleared her sinuses, and the condensation mixed with the beads of sweat on her forehead. It was nice to relax in the hot springs after a solid afternoon of practice with Aragorn. She felt confident that tomorrow's mock tournament would go well, even if she didn't claim the top position.
Tomorrow morning would start with the semifinals, and then after a two-hour break, whoever won their respective matches would meet for the finals. That meant that, at most, she'd be able to enjoy two games. It would be wise for her to retire to bed early and catch some extra rest to ensure that nothing would hold her back for the match. It was the height of Midsummer, though, and Arwen had asked that Brili join her for a night on the town. It was another excuse to dress her up again, but Brili didn't mind. It would be nice to walk around the city and drink at a few of the stalls.
After all, it would probably be the last time…
She shifted in the water to stare at the pendant Aragorn had given her resting on top of her pile of fresh clothes. No, Aragorn would likely find a way to smuggle her into next year's Midsummer festival as long as she stayed with the Dúnedain, his people. She didn't have to worry about this being her last Midsummer in Rivendell.
No small part of her seriously considered sneaking away in the dead of night again; it would be easy: pack up a few provisions, grab Borias, and head towards Bree. After all, it wouldn't be the first time in her life that she's retreated.
But, the longer she thought about it, the harder it was for her to come to peace with that idea…
The journey to retake Erebor was perilous. There was a high chance that her uncle could be leading her brothers to their deaths. As much of a grudge she still held against them, the thought of them blindly walking into their proverbial mausoleums was not a comfort. She hated them. She wished never to have to see them again. But that didn't mean she wanted death upon them.
If only to ease that discomfort, she would join them to retake Erebor and hopefully find some way to save their lives. It would be difficult. She had severed ties with her family and began a new life that suited her far better than the one she'd left behind. Allowing them back into her life went against every instinct she had. And what about Bofur? Her uncle had made an excellent point when he'd said that traveling with the company now would likely mean interacting with him in at least some capacity.
It was all much simpler when they thought she was a mute.
Footsteps echoed against the stone walls built around the hot spring. Brili shifted in the water, half expecting to see one of the dwarves that had been taking up so much of her headspace these past few weeks. To her sharp relief, there was no dwarf, only Arwen.
"Your presence here comes as no surprise," she said to Brili as she unceremoniously lifted the beige shift she was wearing over her head.
Brili eyed Arwen's long, graceful, impeccably smooth legs enviously. She would never be anywhere near as poised and proper as Arwen. Her dwarven lineage set aside, Brili was far too restless to dedicate half as much time to grooming as Arwen did. Besides the chin hairs that made up her beard and under her arms, Brili didn't waste any time with a razor. The hair on her arms and legs was fortunately very light and fine.
"I figured you would want me smelling my best for our night out," Brili quipped as Arwen slipped into the warm water with a happy hum.
"I will make a graceful maiden of you yet," Arwen teased. "Although, I hear that my efforts were not necessary. You never told me that you were a noblewoman."
Brili scowled resentfully. "I'm not. I left that life behind me, 'Wen."
"So that is why you told us you had lost your memories? To escape your nobility?"
Not this conversation again…
"Not exactly."
Arwen only watched her patiently as Brili sat uncomfortably with words that were a struggle to put together.
"I… I didn't want to be found, that's true. But, more than that, I wanted to be able to start fresh. I wanted to be free from the burdens of my past. I told you all that I'd lost my memory to keep myself from being found but also to be free to choose my new life without limits finally."
Arwen nodded, her expression neutral. Much like her father, Arwen had perfected the art of listening without passing judgement. "And are you satisfied with the life you've chosen?"
"Without a doubt."
Arwen smiled, leaning back to soak her shoulders in the steaming water. "I am honored to have been even a small part of that then."
"I think you mean to say you are happy to have dressed me."
Arwen's lips quirked into an amused smirk. "That is a fair assertion. I have a spectacular piece chosen for you this evening. My finest yet."
Ah, yes, Brili had assumed that Arwen's true intent had been to show off all along.
~o~
A warm breeze, carrying with it the sweet aroma of pastries, playfully shifted the paper lanterns strung up over the rafters. If it weren't for the hum of excited chatter all around her, Brili would be able to hear the paper scrape against the stone columns. From her perch on the rail of an unmarked building, she patiently waited for Arwen to return with a treat for them to share.
After their soak in the community baths, Arwen had practically dragged Brili back to her quarters to be dressed up for their evening out. The dress was Brili's preferred wrap style, with loose sleeves and light fabric allowing the breeze to flow up her arms. Arwen had embroidered maroon flowers along the dress that stood out brightly over the cream background of the gown and matched the wine-colored velvet sash they used to tie the gown shut. Just as she'd done with the last dress, Arwen had arranged the sash into a fanciful bow styled to resemble the flowers that adorned the dress.
As much as Brili hated finery, she could get behind this simple, relaxed style.
It was a shame that she couldn't take it with her when she left… whenever that might be. From what she could tell, her uncle had not yet moved to depart the haven he'd so vehemently opposed a fortnight ago on the road. Not knowing when she'd be leaving was causing Brili no small amount of anxiety.
A swish of fabric beside her pulled Brili from her increasingly melancholy thoughts. Arwen, clad in a violet-hued wrap-style dress of her own, practically sashayed into place to her left, holding a fragrant, parchment-wrapped parcel out for her. Unable to contain a smile, Bri took it. The parchment peeled away to reveal a flaky, doughy confection with a layer of sweet jam oozing enticingly from the center. Ignoring Arwen's sharp warning to be mindful of her dress, she bit into it only to throw her head back in delight as the tender pastry mellowed out the saccharine sweet of the jam.
Midsummer was her favorite time of year in Rivendell.
"And your judgement?" Arwen asked, only after politely swallowing her modest bite. "Better than last year's?"
Last year, they'd used strawberry jam, which, while delicious in its own right, was less tart than the raspberry jam this year. The tartness added a different layer to the treat that exceeded last year's by leaps and bounds. Brili nodded around another mouthful as Arwen giggled primly into her wrist.
"I will inform Leira of your approval."
They had kept Brili's identity as the pastry chef's favorite fan a secret because, as Brili had learned early in her first year of living in Rivendell, not all elves were as welcoming to outsiders as Lord Elrond and his charges were. Brili had not faced any blatant discrimination or harassment; Elrond would not tolerate such behavior. She had found that a few elves regarded her with a cold, somewhat reluctant tolerance. Leira was not one of those elves, but her husband had made his distaste quite clear the first time Brili had stepped up to their stall alone. Arwen had been furious to learn of her experience, and it was only after great persuasion on Brili's part that she agreed not to take the matter to her father.
Henceforth, Brili shared her compliments vicariously through Arwen.
However, tonight, her veiled secrecy was not needed. Blaring over the Elves' polite, comparatively docile conversation was the unmistakably boisterous noise of the very dwarves that Brili had hoped to avoid that evening. It seemed that Kili hadn't believed a word she'd said when she'd told him there were no festivities planned for Midsummer. Apparently, the rest of the company knew of the festivities as well. The group was moving through the town in waves of two or three. Thus far, she'd been fortunate to avoid her brothers and Bofur. She had run into Ori, though, and was pleased to note that he backed away from her with an expression like a trapped doe.
Still, she doubted that her brothers, should she run into them, would have the same common sense.
"The troubled look upon your brow is not becoming of you or the gown I toiled over," Arwen noted. "That is to say, you appear troubled."
"What makes you say that?"
Her eyes drifted to Brili's hands, still wrapped around her half-eaten pastry. "You have stopped eating."
Was her appetite really so reputable? "Sorry, I was just thinking."
"About the Dwarves or the tournament tomorrow?"
Oh. That hadn't been a problem until now. "Well, now both."
Arwen nodded, folding her empty wrapper neatly while staring thoughtfully into the crowd. "I think that you shall persevere."
"On which front?"
A warm smile pricked the corner of Arwen's peachy lips as she tilted her chin to regard her. "Both."
Brili rolled her shoulders back to stretch them out. "I got a decently good practice session in with Aragorn this afternoon. Still, I don't like being placed in the semifinals like this. They will be expecting him tomorrow morning, not me."
"Your opponent was duly informed of the change. The placement was fair."
"I meant the audience," Brili grumbled around a mouthful of food; staying in a bad mood with this snack was hard. "People don't like me enough around here as it is."
"Your performance during last year's quarterfinals earned you quite the following."
"Yeah, as a 'pungent trickster who fights dirty.'"
"Haldir was a sore loser." Arwen's nose wrinkled in distaste. "The tournament rules state no opposition to tripping your opponent. Honestly, he would do the same in the heat of battle!"
"Does this mean I can't drink tonight?"
Brili needed a change in subject and knew that if she didn't redirect, Arwen would only bring up the other topic she did not wish to discuss.
"If you drink in excess, it will only bring your downfall," Arwen warned, smoothing a wrinkle out of her dress as she stood up. "Shall we? There is a mead stall outside of Ithil's tavern for the festival."
"Is that why I can hear the off-duty guardsmen singing?"
Another subdued giggle. "That's likely the case."
The stall was not difficult to find, considering how the guardsmen seated at finely carved wooden tables grew steadily louder the more drunk they became. Brili's work with Aragorn was not affiliated with the famed Rivendell guard, but she did work adjacent to them. Once noticing that she could pull her weight, most regarded her politely, if not warmly.
After purchasing their drinks—Brili's portion not reduced despite her shorter stature—the pair found a seat outlying the druken revelry. Arwen looked quite entertained watching her father's army let loose, and Brili was all too happy to let go of all the negative thoughts in her head even if only for a little while. The girls sat in companionable silence, feet tapping to the tune of the drinking songs sung while sipping their beverages contentedly.
Brili should have learned long before this that drinking dulled her senses and, when surrounded by enemies, it was in her best interests to remain sober.
~o~
Bofur had come to like Rivendell.
At first, he, like the others, thought the place would be too serene, the kind of peaceful that one expects on their death bed. He was surprised and relieved to notice that this was not entirely the case. A festival for Midsummer lit the village proper in the soft glow of lantern light and filled the town with music. Not that he expected this place to be so lively outside of special occasions such as this… Still, for what it was worth, he was glad to be in Rivendell for this time.
He could understand why his intended wife had made this place her home, at any rate.
He smiled into his drink, as he often did when he thought of her. It seemed his suspicions when he'd first offered himself up as a potential suitor for Thorin's niece had been correct; she'd never noticed how he'd quietly observed her from afar. He should have anticipated that. He could have offered suggestions on how to approach their engagement if he'd just thought a little bit harder about it. Not that he could blame himself. At the time, he was over the moon to have been chosen as her intended. He had wrongfully assumed that she'd been consulted over the prospect of marriage and was at least open to the suggestion, if not informed who her future husband might be.
He was relieved to learn she was alive, much like her family had been.
No, not just alive; she was thriving.
He'd always intended to be a lax husband, prepared to lay waste to the typical Dwarven traditions when it came to marriage and allow Brili freedoms that she might not experience if she married someone else. He had intended to take her as a companion, not just a wife. Still, all those ambitions set aside, he couldn't honestly say that he'd be able to offer her the same opportunities that she'd found on her own, much to Thorin's consternation.
He chuckled; Thorin was right furious over the fact that she had been living in Rivendell. He wasn't quiet about that fury either. Bofur, however, didn't mind. He was curious to know how she found her way to this place, to learn more about her training, and to see her wield a blade in earnest. With the journey ahead, he may have the opportunity to introduce himself to her properly, to show her that he wasn't the villain she believed him to be.
Ah, to think that after such a tragedy, he was still so smitten with her…
He peeked over his shoulder to watch her sitting with her friend, a willowy, pretty lass. He'd been relieved that Brili hadn't noticed him sitting there. She would likely be relieved that he chose to keep her whereabouts a secret for now. The lads had made it pretty clear to everyone that they should report her location immediately. Their intention was to encourage her to acclimate to the company before they departed within the next few days. But Bofur didn't have the heart to spoil what looked like a fun night out with a friend. He wondered if she'd have many of those in this place. The elves he'd encountered had been pretty wary of him, a few snobbishly turning their noses up at him. He would hate to cut short a night like this, one spent merrily with friends.
She looked so beautiful in that dress; the style wouldn't be worn in the Blue Mountains, where the air was usually dry and, more often than not, chilly. Not to mention, the flowing sash wrapped around her waist could snag on the rough stones of the mountains too easily. He wasn't likely to get another chance to see her donned in something so light and airy for a long time, if ever again. But he was sure that he'd never forget the sight of her sitting there for the rest of his days, that he knew for sure.
Unbidden, probably the drink's fault, he rose to his feet and approached her table. The soldiers around him were singing some drinking song in their native tongue, and the closer he got to Brili, the louder her voice grew. She sang with them as confidently as if the language were her native more her friend grimaced in faux embarrassment, the louder Brili got, her merriment and amusement plain to see on her face. Her expression was such a contrast to the first time they'd been introduced.
This was the face he'd been drawn to years ago.
He waited for the song to end and for Brili to collapse back into her seat in a fit of girlish giggling before he approached the table, relishing the joy on her face. Only to watch that joy vanish the moment she laid eyes on him. Well, he'd already dug his grave, so to speak, might as well roll with it.
"Ladies." He inclined his head to her friend, who smiled politely at him. "It's a lovely evening, isn't it?"
Brili was sitting rigidly straight in her seat, hands gripping the handles of the chair she'd settled into only moments before. Her blue eyes were glazed over just slightly—a testament to the strength of the mead she had been drinking—and had lost the sparkling glimmer he'd admired when she'd been singing that song.
He nervously took a swig of his drink before addressing the elf lass. "That song, what was it?"
To her credit, the maiden seemed to be taking her cue from Brili, who was radiating hostility that did more than chafe at his pride.
"It is a common song played in these parts." The elf's tone was cool, her expression taking on an air of dignified disapproval. "Brili, is this a friend of yours?"
Hearing her name seemed to jolt the object of his affections back to her senses. Brili rose from her seat primly, an unbecoming sneer twisting her pretty face before turning her back to him. With a hand on her friend's arm, she urged the other girl to rise. And then, with a final icy glance at Bofur, she shook her head.
"He is nobody."
~o~
Durin's Day…
Thorin inhaled sharply through his nose, fingers curling into frustrated fists.
So much time he had wasted on this place, all in the name of reading that Mahal-forsaken map. He'd have left this place much sooner if he knew how short their time was and how dire the situation was. Still, the information garnered from it was invaluable. The wait had been necessary. Any further delays, however, would be intolerable. If they were to reach his homeland in time, he and his party had to leave this place by tomorrow.
And that couldn't come soon enough for Thorin Oakenshield.