Chapter Text
Kili sighed. He hated being told he was ‘too young’, and he was told it far more often than he appreciated. Now, his mother and brother were off doing some sort of training, and he was—predictably—too young. He hated being left behind, with only his broody, moody uncle Thorin, and boring old Balin. Even Dwalin was too busy for him. He pushed a toy cart across the floor, sighing again. Not that anyone was around to listen. He didn’t just want to play at having adventures, he wanted to have one. He remembered the young orc his uncle had brought home—and miraculously, not killed. He probably had adventures all the time, every day. Maybe he was still nearby. Kili gathered the things he’d need—his blunt toy sword, the bits of food he had squirreled away in his room, his traveling cloak (not that he ever got to use it) and…something precious. He headed for the entrance of the mountain. Everyone expected him to be loud and obvious, so no one looked for him when he was quiet, and it was really easy to slip past everyone and out the gate. Out in the snow, he wasn’t sure which way to go. The world opened up in all directions, with no signs or anything saying, ‘Orcs This Way.” He closed his eyes and pulled out his sword. Spinning in a circle while holding it out, he set out in the direction the tip pointed when he stopped.
The wind was mild today, but the snow was still deep. The wargs didn’t mind bounding through and over it, but it still impeded them. Hunting was slow. Bolg had finally been allowed out of their cave again. After the last scare, Azog had been paranoid, waking with dreams of dwarves finding them and slaughtering them all. It had taken a few weeks before he had allowed any of the orclings outside to play. Now they were only allowed out if they stayed with their wargs the whole time.
Bolg sat backwards on his warg, Lily, and braided small bits of her fur. She flopped down on the snow, groaning. Quietly, Bolg began to hum to himself.
Kili started humming. He wasn’t sure where the tune came from, but it was strange and beautiful. Soon he was full-out singing wordlessly, adding embellishments, lost in the song.
In answer to whoever was singing with him, Bolg began to clap and whistle, the curious whistle-hum that seemed unique to orcs.
There was someone else, making music with him out in the snow! Kili scrambled through the snowdrifts toward the sound, heedless of any danger. He clapped a counterpoint, wondering how the musician was making the other sound.
Bolg stood up on Lily and saw someone coming. It was a dwarf! He sat back down and urged Lily forward, to run home. She’d only taken one bound through the snow when he stopped her. The dwarf looked young… maybe his age. Maybe he didn’t want to fight. And even if he did, Lily would protect him. Still, he was going to be in a lot of trouble. He hesitated, but finally turned his warg to walk towards the dwarf.
Kili waved enthusiastically, calling out in time to the song they were making together. It was his orc, sure enough! He’d seen pictures of orcs in Balin’s musty old books, and none of them looked like this—pale, covered in wild splotches and spatters of colour. The warg was a lot bigger than the ones in the drawings, and he was a little afraid, but…this was an adventure, no doubt about it!
Azog’s son stopped shyly a few feet before Lily’s nose reached the dwarf. “Hi,” he opened his hand, showing the dwarf his palm.
“Hi! I’m Kili. You don’t remember me, but I know you. Well, I don’t know you, but I saw you. When you were in my mountain. Well, not my mountain. My uncle’s mountain.”
“I’m Bolg,” he said, “and this is Lily.”
Kili nodded, seriously, then remembered his manners. “Kili, son of Firi, at your service.” He bowed, only a little nervous to show the back of his neck to the great beast.
“Oh!” Bolg slid off Lily, bowing back, mimicking Kili’s manner. “Bolg, son of Azog, at your service,” he smiled, showing sharp teeth.
Kili smiled back. “I came looking for you. I wanted to give you a present, because I didn’t get to meet you properly before, and I wanted to make sure you got home safely.”
“You brought me a present?” Bolg’s eyes widened.
“Mm-hmm.” Kili dug in his pockets, producing an astonishing amount of string, pebbles, and other items of worth, before he found what he was looking for: a beautifully crafted set of two small brass jars with lids.
“Oh!” Bolg took them carefully, putting one in the crook of his elbow and prying open the other jar to look inside. It was dark inside, so he stuck in a finger and it came out black. “Ohh, paints?”
“Yup! Well, ink, really. I’m not allowed paints in my room anymore. I wasn’t sure what you’d like, because we didn’t get to talk earlier, but I thought you might like painting or drawing because of all the colour on you. Sorry it’s only two colours.”
Bolg closed the one he’d peeked at and opened the other, smiling when he saw the deep red. He screwed the lid back on, then came forward, pressing his cheek to Kili’s. He giggled a little at the tickle of Kili’s short beard.
Kili giggled too, rubbing his jaw along Bolg’s. His glands didn’t make much scent yet, but it was still a very friendly gesture, and he was glad Bolg liked him as much as he liked the orc. He narrowed his eyes, looking around at the apparently empty landscape. “You’re not lost again, are you? My uncle’s always getting lost, but I’m good at finding my way.”
“Lily knows where we are,” Bolg patted his warg’s nose. “Want to pet her?”
“Yeah!” He didn’t think anyone—ever—had petted a warg before. Not even Balin.
“Lily, this is Kili,” Bolg told his warg. “He’s a friend. Bosnauk (Ally),” Bolg stroked her side to show Kili how. Lily patiently let the dwarf approach, sniffing him carefully.
“Our names rhyme!” Kili said, delighted. He was a little nervous at first, but the warg’s big, cold, wet nose was so enthusiastic that she almost pushed him over and he couldn’t help but laugh. Slowly, watching Lily carefully, Kili lifted his hand and touched her fur. He’d been expecting it to be rough and shaggy, and he was surprised by how soft it was. It was very thick, too—his hand sunk in quite far. She didn’t feel at all like uncle Dwalin’s wargskins, and the thought made him feel a little sick.
“She takes care of me,” Bolg leaned his head against her shoulder, scratching behind her ear. Lily gave a satisfied groan. Taking the two brass jars, Bolg carefully stored them in Lily’s saddlebags, which were soft leather, spattered in colourful paints and patterns. “There,” he turned back to Kili. “I don’t have anyone my age to play with,” he said. “All the other orclings are really little.”
Kili’s eyes went wide. “Same! Well, besides my brother. He’s just a little bit older than me. And Ori, but I don’t think he likes me very much. He never talks to me. But other than them, it’s just my baby cousin, Gimli. And he bites.”
Bolg laughed, “Yeah, Ia and Rau bite too, look!” he showed Kili an old bitemark, proudly. “They’re still learning not to bite.”
“Wow! He doesn’t bite that hard. And I mostly stay away from him.” Kili shivered, wishing he’d dressed in more layers.
“Are you cold?” Bolg asked. He was starting to cool off too, but Lily was right here so he knew he could warm up. “Wanna sit on Lily? She’s warm.”
“A l-little. Really? She won’t mind?” Definitely, no dwarf had ever ridden a warg, Kili was sure about that.
“She won’t mind, she’s big enough to carry us both. Rrau,” he told his warg, and she sat, waiting for him to climb on. He scaled her like a furry mountain, offering Kili a hand up.
Kili grabbed the orc’s hand and, after a moment’s hesitation, climbed aboard. “She’s warm! But you feel really cold.” He settled himself in the warm, soft, musky fur, pressed close behind Bolg.
“She keeps me warm,” Bolg smiled. “Um, like a snake. You know?”
Kili nodded, though he wasn’t sure what snakes and wargs had to do with one another. “Can she go really fast?” He’d ridden ponies a few times, and once a goat, when he’d managed to convince a miner to let him have a go and none of his uncles or his mother had been around, but he’d never been allowed to run at top speed.
“Yeah!” Bolg grinned, gripping Lily’s fur and told her, “Rend!”
Lily stood and bounded across the snow. She was slowed down by the fluffy snow that she sunk into up to her belly, but still she was much faster than anything Kili had ever ridden. It was a lot more jumping than he had expected too.
Between the wind and jarring landings, Kili was quickly out of breath, and he closed his eyes a few times. Even with his eyes closed, it was exhilarating, like nothing he’d ever experienced before. After a few minutes to adjust, he was laughing out loud and calling out encouragement to the warg. “If she’s this fast in the snow,” he yelled to Bolg, “I can’t imagine how fast she’d be on level, open ground!”
“She’s really fast,” Bolg yelled over the wind, stroking Lily’s neck proudly. “She might be the matriarch someday.”
“The what?” Kili thought the word was in the common tongue, but he had no idea what it meant. Riding Lily was strangely exhausting, even though she was doing all the work, and he was soon trembling with fatigue and cold.
“Um, the leader. Are you okay?” Bolg turned around, calling to Lily to slow down. “You’re shivering.”
“I’m f-fine!” Kili protested, but his arms were shaking, and it was getting harder to hold on.
“I’ll take you home,” the little orc offered, turning Lily towards Ered Luin.
“Thanks! Will I get to see you again? I want you to meet my brother, too.”
“Maybe? I’m sure my father won’t be happy to know I met a dwarf,” Bolg sobered a little. He took his fur off and wrapped it around Kili’s shoulders to warm him up. He was getting all the warmth he needed from Lily’s warm body. “But I’d like to see you again.”
“I can’t tell anyone about you, either. But me too.” Kili cuddled into the fur, thinking deeply. “Maybe…maybe we could find a way to leave each other notes, secretly?” Having a secret friend sounded like great fun to Kili.
“I can’t read much yet,” Bolg confided. “But if I hear you singing, I’ll come find you.”
Ered Luin was close and Bolg was too nervous to get within range of any archers. He pulled Kili close, pressing their cheeks together again. “Thanks for the present.”
“You’re welcome. Thanks for the ride!” Kili rubbed his cheek against Bolg’s, then moved so their foreheads were pressed together. “I’ll see you again. Promise.” He slid off the warg’s back, wanting to impress his new friend. He waved as he trotted back into the mountain.
Bolg waved, turned Lily and rode home.
***
Kili slipped into the mountain, pleased that no one seemed to have noticed his absence. He headed back to his room to change and get ready for a nice, hot bath.
Dwalin caught sight of him in the halls and grabbed him, scooping him up in his arms. The warrior made a face, “Kili! You’re freezing. Where have you been?” He paused to take a sniff. “Ugh, what’s that stink on you?”
“Eep! Uncle Dwalin! I thought you were still out with the guards. I, uh, I need a bath.”
“You definitely do,” he agreed, putting the little dwarf up on his shoulder. “What did you get up to today?”
“Went for a walk. I was looking to see if I could see Fee and Mama coming home. I guess I lost track of time.”
“What do you smell like?” he raised an eyebrow, putting Kili down near the bath, which was essentially a large half-barrel. He began to fill it for the lad from the metal barrels they kept nearby, one heated by the fire, one left cold, so they could mix it into warm.
“Kili-sweat.”
“That is not your usual stink,” Dwalin grinned. “Get undressed and hop in, you little pain.”
“Is so. Did you scare any of the guards so bad they peed themselves?” Kili shucked off his clothes, glad he’d hidden his new fur near the entrance of the mountain. He made a face at the bath; normally he avoided them, but he didn’t want anyone else to smell warg or orc on him, and he was cold.
“Not this time,” Dwalin chuckled. Clearly Kili wasn’t going to tell him what he’d been up to, but he wasn’t hurt so that was alright. Even dwarflings needed some secrets.
“Did you make any of them cry?” Kili asked, grinning wickedly, holding up his arms for Dwalin to pour steaming water over him.
Dwalin filled up a pitcher and poured water over the skinny little prince. “No, though one got a wobbly lip,” he soaked Kili and then offered him a sliver of soap and a round piece of rough stone. “You scrub yourself up.”
“Do you think they’ll keep being a guard? Did you tell them about that thief who pops people’s eyes right out?” Kili gave a happy shudder at the thought, scrubbing himself down thoroughly. Luckily it had been Dwalin who’d found him; he didn’t ask too many questions.
“I don’t know, lad. Maybe they’ll tough it out. Not everyone’s meant to be a guard. And don’t you start telling stories about thieves again. Not everything needs to be repeated.” He rinsed some of the soap off Kili once he’d scrubbed himself and seemed not to smell quite so offensive anymore. He’d smelled like a wet warg when he first hopped in the bath. “You want me to braid your hair after your bath, or do you want to braid it?”
Kili was sleepy after his adventure, and he yawned broadly. “You do. And you’ll brush?”
“Yes, I’ll brush,” Dwalin promised, rinsing the rest of the soap off Kili and draining the tub. “Come on out,” he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around Kili’s shoulders, letting him dry himself off while he grabbed the boar-hair brush and a simple bead for the end of Kili’s braid. Once the little lad was dryish, Dwalin brushed through his hair until it shone in heavy dark waves, plaited it as tightly and as neatly as he could, and clasped it at the end with the bead. “There. You want a nap before supper?” he offered, tossing Kili’s dirty clothes onto the edge of the tub, not willing to deal with them while he still had a Kili to take care of.
“Yeahhhh…” Kili agreed, snuggling down in Dwalin’s arms with another yawn.
“Alright,” he carried Kili to Thorin’s room, tucked Kili into his Uncle’s bed and kissed his forehead. “You sleep. I’ll wake you for dinner.”
“‘k. Love you uncle Dwalin.”
***
Bolg rode hard back to the other orcs; he’d have to hurry if he didn’t want his father to worry. Luckily, Lily was young and strong and well up for another run. Wargs’ endurance was legendary. She was sweating by the time they returned, though, and that was suspicious. She followed him into the wargs’ lean-to, so she wouldn’t be out in the cold with damp fur. He wiped her down as best he could, brushing out where the fur was thickest and daubing on some of his new paint—ink—to hide the wetness.
“Bolg, where were you?” Azog asked, coming into the lean-to behind his son.
“…riding.” Bolg was almost certain his father would get his whereabouts out of him eventually, but stalling couldn’t hurt. He continued brushing Lily with his back to Azog.
“With a dwarf?” the pale orc growled.
“…yes…” Bolg whispered.
There was a long pause as Azog tried to sort through his anger. He didn’t like being angry with Bolg. Things were different now and orcs no longer needed to be the same angry, subdued soldiers they used to be. He wanted his people, and especially his son, to live a happier life, without threats or fear held over their heads.
“Tell me everything,” he sat next to Bolg, watching him colour Lily’s fur.
Bolg reluctantly explained how he’d met his new friend, and showed his father the gift the young dwarf had given him. “And he was really nice, and Lily liked him,” he concluded.
He sat quietly for another few minutes, thinking it through. One young dwarf was at least on equal footing with Bolg and Lily, if not outmatched. And maybe their friendship could mean something entirely new for orcs. “It’s alright, Bolg. But I need you to promise me something.”
“Anything.” And Bolg meant it, though he hoped it wouldn’t be a promise to never see his friend again. “And I didn’t mean to break my promise before. He found me, I didn’t wander off. Well, not at first.” He hung his head.
“You can see him again. But if you ever see him with a weapon, or if he has other dwarves with him, I want you to ride home,” Azog lifted his son’s chin, meeting his gaze firmly. “Do not let your guard down. Dwarves are still our enemies, even if this one dwarf is not.”
“I know. And I promise. Thank you!” Bolg clapped with delight, leaping into his father’s arms.
Azog stood with Bolg in his arms. “Are you done with Lily?” The warg perked up at her name and Azog let his son scramble down to see to her.
“I think so. She’s mostly dry now.” Bolg gave Lily a reassuring pat, ruffling her ears.
“That’s good. Let’s eat.”
“Love you, paraun.” Bolg nuzzled his jaw against his father’s, before making sure Lily had some food and water for the night.
“Love you.”