A/N Enjoy some family fluffiness...our dwarfy freinds deserve to have some happy times... :D. As always, drop a note and say Hi. Thanks for reading! -Summer

Chapter 29

Fili's Uncle Thorin had taught him the ways of managing a caravan before he had reached his full height. Pony care always came first if you expected them to pull wagons or carry dwarves on their backs for weeks at a time.

And Thorin felt this duty belonged to the youngest members of the troupe.

Fili all too well remembered being paired with his (younger and much more mischievous) brother when it came to currying and feeding their mounts after a long day of travel.

So when his traveling caravan descended into a likely valley with grass that promised excellent grazing, he turned to his daughter, the youngest member of his current caravan.

Of course, the oldest member of the caravan was an elf, but in the three weeks of travel since Legolas Greenleaf had joined them, Fili had observed that the elf went when and where he would, and at the moment was not in sight. Probably climbing a stone outcropping and communing with an old stump, Fili decided.

"What do you think," he prompted his daughter. "Is this place worth stopping early?"

Beside him, young Iri, golden hair in elaborate braids, glanced around. He watched her gauge the height of the sun in the sky, the broad view of the flat lands before them, and the dubious proximity of the craggy hills they'd just crossed.

Good, he thought. Assess defendability first.

Then she scanned the prairie ahead, eyes narrowing.

Fili couldn't help smiling. Thorin always relied on keen-eyed youngsters. At 178 years old, he understood now how much Thorin had really needed his nephews' far-seeing abilities–one that all dwarves lost as they aged.

"There," Iri pointed. "A small river. And it's several leagues from these hills for measure of safety. The water should be sweet, and there's plenty of grass–the ponies could definitely use time to rest."

Fili squinted a bit, barely making out the line of the river. "Very good," he said. "How would you defend it?"

Iri surveyed the land around them. "First, send out the ravens to find anyone who might already be watching. We have the advantage of flying reconnaissance. If the area is clear, then we camp half a league from the water, and we water the ponies in groups. We set up the larger tents as decoys around the perimeter to make our numbers appear larger, and keep the wagons and in a defensible center."

"Ravens don't fly at night." Fili said, his expression carefully neutral.

Iri's expression became more serious, as if rethinking her answer. Then she looked at him. "Once it's full dark, we leave campfires behind and carefully move the real camp further west."

Fili nodded. "So any attacker would be drawn to the original camp and miss our actual location."

"That is the hope."

He could see that she was still uncertain about this, but then again, this was her first ever caravan trip.

"Commanders!" Fili called to the Guard that always surrounded him. When seven well-armed veterans looked to him, he went on. "I have approved my daughter's ideas for making camp…make it so."

At least three of the commanders glanced at him with knowing looks. They all recognized a training mission when it was given.

Iri looked at him with wide eyes, but he calmly returned her gaze and then looked up. "Ravens," he said.

Iri took a breath and lifted the reins of her pony. She had work to do.

Fili smiled as she rode apart from the caravan, one Commander and a squad of archers surrounding her.

And while most of the ravens focused on her, one hardy fellow demanded Fili's attention—one that wore a light ankle band bearing the runes F and K.

"Hello Roknib," he said, holding up an arm for the big corvid. "Good bird. I do in fact have a special job for you." He gave the bird a short message, the kind it was likely to recall even after days of flying. "Left the Ettenmoors, making for Weather Hills. All is well."

Roknib quorked, shook his head, and repeated the message several times. This bird was, after all, a long distance messenger chosen for his memory and sense of direction.

Then the bird went still and stood taller, looking from Fili to the open sky to the west, and then back.

Fili nodded. "Yes. To Kili," he commanded. "Raven King." He carefully did not direct the raven to Khelethur. Kili would be departing soon if he hadn't left already. But the ravens well understood the difference between find a person and find a place.

Roknib's head went down and his wings opened. Fili took the hint, and with a well-practiced boost, launched the big raven to the sky.


In Khelethur itself, a party was brewing. It was tradition to have a feast for kin and kith before departing on a journey, and riding to meet Aragorn at Annuminas certainly counted.

Kili arrived unannounced, spotting Nÿr across the room attending to an older veteran in a chair by the fireside. She was dressed in a flowing overcoat, all deep greens and blues. It was new and quite stunning, he realized. At least he didn't recall ever seeing it before–and he was pretty sure he would remember it if he had.

As she turned to take a blanket offered by one of the apprentices, he saw that the coat was open in front, revealing a low v-neck bodice, an elegant metalwork belt, and flowing skirt. A three-tiered necklace shone at her throat, matched by strings of cabochon sapphire and sea pearls in her loose black hair.

In a room full of dwarves dressed in their best, he could see no one else.

He went to her as straight and sure as one if his best arrows, recalling the very first day he'd met her—and that evening at the Midwinter dance in Erebor when she was tending to the veterans, dressed in simple healer's blue, her hair in one long unadorned braid.

They were both older now, but she still radiated with youthful energy.

He joined her at the fireside, unable to do anything but stare, his heart full of his love for her as she finished tucking a warm blanket around the shoulders of old Virk, a guard captain that his mother had known–long missing a leg and one eye, and sporting a deep scar across one cheek. But the old fellow looked at him with a smug grin and his single eye sparkling.

"Evening, my Lord."

Kili put one hand over his heart and lowered his head in respect.

Old Virk looked from Kili to Nÿr, then back to Kili.

"Seems to me," he said in a reedy voice. "A lad like you should ask a lass like this to dance…"

"Well. That would make both us of very happy, wouldn't it?" Kili replied. They both looked at Nÿr, who met Kili's eyes with one eyebrow quirked, as if to say you think so?

The old Virk let out a bark of "Hah!" and with one gnarled hand on his walking staff, he used it to pound the floor with vigor, sending a signal for attention that reverberated through the hall.. The chattering crowd quieted as everyone looked around, and then became still and silent when they saw their King and Queen with old Virk.

Kili winked at the old veteran. "The honorable Captain Virk requests a dance," he called out.

In response, he heard excited gasps and scattered applause, and then dwarves went quickly into action, moving benches and tables and clearing a space for their King and Queen. Someone dampened a few of the braziers, giving the room a more romantic light, and a trio of minstrel lads stepped forward. They pulled out stringed instruments and took position, looking at Kili with questioning looks as they quietly tuned up.

As it happened, Kili knew these lads had a fresh song ready for the upcoming summer events, and why not? Might as well surprise her now and have a chance to practice. He nodded his permission.

The crowd settled and chatter became whispers and then all was quiet as they looked expectantly toward the fireside where old Virk sat.

Kili, eyes locked with Nÿr, offered his hand. She made a show of looking into his eyes as if considering.

A complete sham, Kili thought, suppressing a grin.

Then his lady wife quite graciously inclined her head to him and put her hand in his. There was instant, quiet applause and Virk pounded his staff again in approval.

After a few moments of everyone shushing each other, the trio of lads with their instruments began their song, gentle and slow…the red-haired one starting to sing in a strong, slightly gruff voice.

"Do we know this one?" Nÿr murmured to him as they walked together to the center of the newly created dance floor.

Kili grinned. "Just dive right in and follow my lead…" And then he spun her around in a gentle turn that made her coat and skirt swirl as one, and he took up a position behind her, his arms wide, waiting for her. After a moment, Nÿr understood what he wanted and opened her arms wide as well. They joined hands, showing the elegant tekou that came to a V over her wrists, echoing the design of his own warrior's gauntlets. She quite serenely looked over her shoulder at him, fully trusting that he knew what he was doing.

Kili's role in this dance was thankfully easy. In time with the gentle song, he stepped and leaned left, guiding her to do the same, and then stepped and leaned right, and then backed up one step. Then he was slow-moving through a sword-wielder's morning progressions, but instead of wielding his sword, he supported his beautiful lady wife as he guided her arms and they moved through the forms together. When the singer's verse changed, Kili reached their right hands over her head to guide her in three slow spins, skirt swirling, and stopping when she faced him again.

"You'll make me dizzy," Nÿr smiled at him.

"I think that's any lad's goal," he said, helping her twirl the other direction before they stopped in a momentary pause. He looked into her eyes, completely in love with her.

Then he shifted into a side-by-side traveling step so they could make a circle together, hands clasped, and ending with both of them spinning away. He stopped in the center and stood at attention.

Nÿr took his hint, but she circled him with a little flirty swishing of the leather of her coat, making the long strings of cabochon sapphires in her hair catch the light and glow. She twirled and circled him a second time before stopping with her back to him, this time taking the lead and holding her arms wide in invitation for him to take her hands from behind.

"Very nice," he whispered, doing just that, and together they repeated the warrior's movements from the beginning—warrior's strength and healer's grace.

By the third repetition, the audience was singing quietly along with musicians and swaying in time. Nÿr was smiling at him as the last line was sung and the musicians began a long cascading scale to close. She turned into his arms, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes.

And Kili suddenly wanted nothing more than for the crowd to go away and to be barefoot on the thick carpet of their own bedroom…

"Soon," she murmured. Her eyes never left his.

Yes, he thought. Soon. "My love," he whispered to her. "You look beautiful tonight."

The musicians played the last notes of the song, and Kili stepped back to bow to her, hand on heart as the audience erupted into a riot of happy cheers and applause.

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Tekou: Japanese word for a warrior ladies' fingerless glove secured by a ring around the middle finger.