Chapter Text
Ori stared down at his chest in shock. This couldn’t be happening, it couldn’t. He was too young to have already gotten his soul mark. And besides how had he even come in contact with his One? He glanced around quickly. The others were already in the river bathing, the older members of the company perched at the base of the Carrock as they smoked. Maybe no one would notice. After all, the princes really were quite distracting what with the way they insisted on acting half their age. The two were currently teasing Bilbo over his lack of body hair, something Ori was glad he didn’t have to worry about.
He took another look at his chest. A bold geometric design crept from his belly to his prominent collar bone. Of course they would notice. How could anyone not notice dark green hexagons across someone’s torso? Not to mention they seemed to glimmer in the sunlight. His gingery chest hair didn’t even seem to distract from it. I can’t just hide here. They’ll notice if I don’t bathe. With a deep breath he turned towards the river. What else can I do?
The water was pleasantly cool against his flushed skin. He could already feel weeks of sweat and dirt being washed away, it left his flesh paler than he last remembered. Smooth pebbles tumbled across his feet as he waded deeper in. He kept his head down and watched the midday light reflect off the water. No one seemed to had noticed his arrival, at least not from what Ori could hear.
Bilbo continued to squawk in indignation at the young princes’ goading, the Ur family was in a tightly knit group to the side along with Nori and Gloin. Ori could hear his eldest brother chortling over something Balin had said and Thorin was trying to explain something to poor Oin. Very loudly. That left Dwalin, last Ori had seen the warrior had been bathing quietly away from the others. Honestly, Ori couldn’t help but watch for at least a moment or two. Even Dwalin’s back was well muscled. Dark tattoos spread along his shoulders, interrupted occasionally by a pearly patch of scar tissue. But where was the warrior now? Don’t risk drawing attention to yourself, Ori.
Careful to keep quiet, he dunked his head beneath the water. His matted hair slowly began to loosen with the flow of the river. Rivulets of water dripped from his hair as he gasped for breath. The coolness trickled down his chest and back slowly. Nothing had ever felt so good. With shaking hands he pushed his bangs away from his face, forgetting to keep his head down.
There in front of him, just a few meters away, was Dwalin. The first thing Ori noticed was the warrior’s expression. His brows were pulled down, grey eyes piercing into the scribe. Thick hair trailed up his belly and curled over his chest, it seemed to meld with his salt and pepper beard. Ori’s eyes fixated on the older dwarf’s torso. Was that? His eyes shot wide at the familiar pattern stretching across Dwalin’s chest. Ori turned away quickly. That’s enough bathing for one day! He was ready to bolt when thick fingers curled around his bicep.
“Lad.”
“Shit,” breathed Ori. Hesitantly, he turned.
“That’s quite the marking,” Dwalin motioned to Ori’s chest.
“I-it’s a bruise… from the caves,” he finished lamely.
Dwalin blinked down at him. “A bruise.”
“Yep! Nasty buggers, those goblins.”
The warrior raised a brow before glancing over his shoulder. The others hadn’t noticed them, at least not yet. Though judging by the way Ori was squirming, it wouldn’t be long before they did.
“Would ye stop that,” grumbled Dwalin.
“Would you,” snapped Ori.
Dwalin leaned forward, tightening his grip ever so slightly. “Don’t ye think we should talk about this?”
Ori’s cheeks flushed at the mention of his marking. He was not ready for this. Not ready to have found his One, especially not in one of the greatest dwarven warriors of all time. “I have no idea what you’re talking about Master Dwalin!”
“Ori, when did ye first notice it?” Dwalin’s voice was unusually soft. His grey eyes flicked across Ori’s features. Crooked nose, freckles, big brown eyes. Too damn adorable for someone like Dwalin.
“J-Just now…”
A smile grew across Dwalin’s face. “O-oh.”
“Could you let go of me now?” Ori had a strange fluttering sensation at the sight of Dwalin’s grin.
“Right, sorry.”
Ori was surprised to find himself missing Dwalin’s touch. “Wait! I mean, maybe just not quite so tight?”
A flush bloomed over Dwalin’s cheeks. “Of course.” He took Ori’s hand in his. “So, ye had no idea then? I mean that we…”
“None.”
The two stood awkwardly for a couple moments. Each of them thoroughly shocked. Ori to have found his One so soon, and Dwalin to have found his so late.
“So,” stuttered Ori, “w-what now?”
“I doubt your brothers would take this well.”
“Do we hind it then? I mean for now?”
Dwalin winced. It was never good to keep things from family. “Just for a little while. I promise.”
Ori bit at his lip worriedly. “And Balin?”
“The old coot would give it away,” chuckled Dwalin, “You finish up here. I’m more or less done anyway.” He let his hand drop back down to his side before brushing past Ori.
“Wait,” hissed the scribe, “That’s it then?!”
“What?”
“We’re soul bonded and that’s it?” A pretty blush had begun to creep over his features.
Dwalin blinked in confusion, “What do ye mean?”
“Well this isn’t exactly romantic is it?”
The warrior gaped at the indignant little scribe before him. Ori’s brows were furrowed over a flushed face, his hands perched on slim hips. Was he being scolded? By Ori? Dwalin grumbled as he cast a look around. Everyone was still preoccupied with their own goings on. He hunched to press a feverish kiss to Ori’s cheek.
“Better?”
“Y-yes, I do think so,” huffed Ori, taking on a very Dori-like manner.
Dwalin chuckled, and left his One to finish bathing. And if the two seemed exceptionally friendly to each other that night at Beorn’s, no one mentioned it.