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Stealing things had always given Nori a sense of power, control, and the bigger the thing he stole, the better the feeling. Stealing came as easy and naturally to him as swimming to a fish. He couldn’t help it—and he didn’t care, really.
If he stuck around long enough to watch, he’d see that special combination of confusion, surprise, panic, and then anger. He loved it.
He didn’t, however, love the way Dori reacted: His face growing red with anger and his voice rough from shouting that he needs to stop, that he was a bad influence for Ori, that he would turn him in if he could.
In response, Nori will say that he can’t stop, doesn’t want to stop, and will never stop—not even when he’s dead will he stop, and that Dori might as well not waste his breath.
Dori usually stormed off at this point, muttering angry things under his breath. Arguments like this are the reason that Nori broke himself off from their little family of three and went off to make a living of his own, doing what he liked. He had planned on never seeing his brothers again—until he got word that he was requested to go on a journey to reclaim Erebor.
Seeing Dori and Ori again had come as somewhat of a shock, as he hadn’t known that either of them were coming. Oh, the look on Dori’s face was like that of a man who had been forced to witness a great tragedy with his eyes peeled wide open. His brother’s normally warm face had crumpled into something pained for a second—only a second—and then he had stepped forward and latched on to Nori’s shoulder with his thick-fingered hands, telling him that it was good to see him after all this time. Nori had merely nodded in response, his quick tongue failing him for the first time.
Nori came back to now, blinking his eyes rapidly for he had been staring blankly at the fire for quite some time. With a weary sigh he rubbed his palms against his eyes until the itching in them had subsided, and bright colorful lights popped behind his lids.
Living in the past never did anyone no good, he thought to himself, looking over at Thorin who was now staring unseeingly at the fire, doing what Nori had been only moments before. He snorted out a short laugh and shifted in his seat, gazing around at the rest of the Company like he often did when he had nothing else to occupy his thoughts.
His eyes came to Bombur first, who looked to be eating an extra bowl (but where had it come from?) as quickly as he could before his brother or cousin noticed. Nori knew how careful Bofur was of his younger brother’s eating habits, always making sure that he never ate too much.
At the thought of the oddly-hatted dwarf, Nori swept his sharp gaze next over to him, finding himself not at all surprised to see that he was sitting next to their burglar, laughing and talking, and staring when he thought the halfling didn’t notice. He didn’t understand why he didn’t just up and tell the halfing how he felt already. The rest of the Company knew; it was obvious to all of them but one—the object of Bofur’s affections.
Finding his thoughts entering dangerous waters (thoughts of love and commitment), Nori directed his gaze elsewhere. He was only half-surprised to find that he was now staring at Dwalin and that he, oddly, could not look away.
Nori had always had an odd interest in Dwalin, right from the moment he met the brute of a dwarf. At first he had thought Dwalin pretentious, always seeking to protect and to serve Thorin “at whatever cost”. Nori thought it was because he was in love with him, and that thought had left an odd burning in his chest.
However, upon watching the interactions between the two closer, he found out that that was not the case. He showed none of the common signs of being infatuated: finding any excuse to touch, reddening of the face – though he couldn’t imagine Dwalin being the type to blush – awkwardness, and the like. Dwalin was just fiercely loyal to Thorin in a way that one could only describe as an older brother protecting a younger one.
Nori could understand that, for he, too, felt protective over Ori and (admittedly) Dori. He wanted them to be safe, and would do anything to keep them that way. Even if he couldn’t stand Dori’s guts most of the time, he still loved his brother, though you would never hear him admit it.
Now, Dwalin sat in his spot, bowl in one hand and spoon in the other. He ate quickly, his mannerisms like a starved beast that hadn’t seen food in a long time. Nori found a small smile creeping on to his face at the thought.
Yes, Nori had indeed been interested in Dwalin for a while, stemming from a mild curiosity into something more—something slightly deeper that sent chills up his spine and caused his heart to work overtime. Though Nori did not want to say it, he had become hopelessly infatuated with the dwarf, and had been searching for a way to convey his infatuation when he hardly had any contact with Dwalin in the first place.
Sure, he could always walk up to him and sit by him and attempt to make small talk, but that was too easy. He wanted to do something fun, something out of the ordinary to show how he felt that way Dwalin knew that he would not be your average lover.
He considered asking Balin for advice, but that would mean having to ask for a chance to court his brother, and that was entirely too…average.
Nori was staring at the spoon in Dwalin’s tattooed hand when suddenly an idea struck him and he found himself grinning broadly. He knew just what to do and exactly how to do it…though the question was: Did he have anything left from his last escapade to do what he intended?
He would only have to find out, and hope that it would work.
---
Over the weeks, Dwalin kept finding odd things in his bedroll: Bits of metal that looked like they had come from valuable objects.
First, he had found a spoon, and had been very confused. He would have thought that it was from their pack of pots and pans, but when he took it to Bofur – who was a mining dwarf and knew quite a lot about metal – the dwarf had stared at it oddly before taking the thing in his hands and telling Dwalin that it was silver, and that it looked very familiar.
Dwalin, still confused, said that Bofur might as well keep it because he had no idea where it came from.
Only later, after a particularly cross burglar had yelled at him quite loudly for one so small, did he find out that it was a silver spoon from their very own Bilbo Baggins’ hobbit hole. How it had ended up in his bedroll, Dwalin had no idea, and he had told the halfling that repeatedly until the hobbit had crossed his arms, huffed and said that he believed him for now, but if anything else of his turned up, there would be no mercy.
The next time it happened, Dwalin had been retiring for the night when a golden three-pronged candelabra and a silver platter had jabbed him painfully in the back. He showed them to Master Baggins (not without much hesitation and forethought, mind you), who said that those were not his, but eyed him warily all the same. He pointed out that the words on the bottom were elvish, and that it had likely been picked up during their stay in Rivendell.
After a while of nothing showing up in his bedroll, Dwalin thought that he could rest easy—but he was soon proved wrong when he went to rest that night.
Resting carefully above the covers was a large, silver ring that looked as if it was made for the large fingers of a man. In its center it held a large, rectangular stone with two diagonal stripes of metal separating the stone into three parts. The stone itself was a deep, calming green with lighter shades of green striping through it.
It was beautiful, really, and Dwalin wondered why anybody would place such a ring like this on his bedroll. Were they trying to get him in trouble, frame him for some act of thievery? Who in their Company did it belong to, and who would have the mind and heart to steal it?
Dwalin thought about asking his brother for help, or at the very least advice, but the older dwarf would simply make it into a bigger matter than it probably was. And then all of the Company would know of his odd predicament – they had only watched with amusement as Bilbo had yelled at him the other day, though they knew not what it was for – and the person responsible would likely never step forward.
So, he settled for his other idea, and hoped that it would work so he could face the person responsible directly.
---
Night after night Dwalin watched his bedroll, and yet his secret “gift-giver” did not come.
At first he thought that they had found out about his plan somehow, but then reassured himself with the fact that he had told no one and that therefore they could not know. Maybe it was because he had made a point to move his bedroll further away from the others (though always in eyesight of Thorin should anything happen) so that when he caught the thief he would not cause such a stir that he woke up the others.
It was the fifth night of waiting when Dwalin began to lose hope. Behind him, the other members of the Company were eating and making merry talk, everyone being in a particularly good mood tonight. He did not join in the talk, and instead chose to eat silently whilst keeping one eye on his bedroll far off. It was a while, and his hope of ever catching the thief was waning, when he noticed one of their party members slipping off silently.
Everything seemed to make sense when he saw that it was Nori. Of course it was him—Dwalin had heard of his past thievery, so it would only make sense. The only question now was why? Why would Nori be placing these objects in his bedroll?
He would only have to find out.
Dwalin excused himself, ignoring the questioning looks from his brother as he followed Nori, being as silent as he could.
He caught Nori in the act of placing a golden necklace under the covers of his bedroll, and seeing it happen in person only served to pique his curiosity and unearth his anger. Was he planning on framing Dwalin for his thieving acts?
He took a step forward, planting his feet squarely on the ground, crossed his thick arms across his chest, and cleared his throat to alert Nori of his presence.
He was only half-amused at the way the other dwarf jumped up, much like a startled cat. Nori spun on his heel to face Dwalin, a look of shame and surprise crumpling his normally calm and laid back features.
“Master Dwalin—!” Nori said, his hands twitching by his side with nothing to do. He settled for shoving them in his pockets. “Fancy meetin’ you here.”
“Hmph,” Dwalin grunted, taking a few steps forward. “An’ jus’ what do ye think yer doin’, plantin’ that thing in my bedroll?” He was so close that he could feel the wild-haired dwarf’s breath puffing against his face, his breath only hitching in the slightest when Dwalin got closer.
It was a shame that it had come to this, as Dwalin had rather liked the dwarf. Sure, it was the kind of affection that one could only gather from looking from afar, as they had not much a reason to talk, but it was affection nonetheless. He had had plans to confront Nori about his feelings, never being one for subtleness or beating around the bush.
But now he had to ignore those feelings, push them down and bury them as he stared the dwarf in the eyes, awaiting an answer.
“Well,” said Nori, and Dwalin was surprised not to get an answer right off the bat. The dwarf, being in the profession he was, surely had to have a way with words if he ever found himself in a sticky situation such as this one.
Dwalin leaned forward so that they were practically nose-to-nose, and he had to ignore the way his chest clenched. This was serious, and he needed to treat it as such.
“Well?” he growled, the word a deep rumble in his chest. “Firs’ ye go placin’ a spoon from Master Baggins’ house in my bed, damn near get me killed by the halfing. An’ then the candleholder from Rivendell when they offered us their home, an’that ring that belongs ta who even knows. I want an explanation.”
Nori, who had previously been shrinking back, his cheeks an odd shade of red, stood up straighter now, a look of sharp determination on his face. “It was my way of courting you,” he said.
Dwalin paused. He took a moment to think.
And then he took another moment.
Finally, he said, “Courting me?” and Nori replied with a yes to which Dwalin replied, “Why didn’t you do the traditional thing and go to my brother fer permission?”
“I was never one for the rules,” Nori said, a smile tugging at his lips. He thought he was being clever, the bastard.
Dwalin partly wanted to smack that smug smile off his face and another part wanted to attack it with his lips. Being stubborn, he went with a milder version of the former.
“What in the name of Aulë made ye think that leavin’ stolen items in my bedroll was a good idea?” Dwalin asked—and he immediately wanted to take back his words because Nori looked like he’d just taken a blow that was more painful than anything dealt physically.
“I thought it was a good idea at the time,” Nori said, his voice tired. “It’s the only way I know how to be…me. I didn’t know how else to tell you how I felt. I figured you’d know it was me from the start.”
“I…”
Dwalin struggled for words. He’d had plenty of chances to be courted or to do the courting, mind you, but he’d never wanted to. No one had been…special. They never made him feel the way Nori was making him feel now, which was everything all at once: Confusion, attraction, anger, want, need.
Seeing as words were failing him now, Dwalin did something that was entirely too forward for him to be doing. He grabbed Nori’s arm, yanked him forward, and kissed him, a low noise somewhere between a growl and a whimper rumbling in his chest.
Nori was unresponsive—but only a moment, because as soon as he realized what was happening, he kissed Dwalin back fiercely, all tongue and hot breath and they could not help losing themselves in the moment.
When they were both out of breath, Dwalin was the first to pull away, looking at Nori who had a wicked glint in the green of his eyes. “That’s not exactly traditional, now is it?” he asked, a smug grin tugging at his lips.
Dwalin wiped that grin off with another kiss that, thankfully, left Nori speechless for the time being.
“Maybe not,” Dwalin said after they were done. He leaned in and rested his forehead against Nori’s. “But yer still askin’ fer permission when we get back.”
“What’s the point after all this?” Nori asked, pulling back to look at Dwalin. He was amused and slightly pleased to find that some of Nori’s hair on his head was askew and not nearly as perfect as it had been previously.
“I do not believe Balin would appreciate it if he found out that you jus’ decided to court me without askin’ him first,” Dwalin said. “You’ve not seen Balin when he is truly angry. He is a force to be reckoned with.”
“Oh, all right.” Nori let out an indignant huff. And then his eyes flicked up to Dwalin’s, glinting mischievously. He suddenly found himself having to lean back as Nori got closer than intimately possible, finding all sorts of ways to press himself into Dwalin. “I think he can wait for now, can’t he?”
He could.