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Chapter Text

Trigger Warning—Non-Con/Sexual Harassment

Ori ran as fast as he could through the crowd, pushing his way past the bodies blocking his path to the guard house. He stopped in front of the door, and his hands shook as he reached for the door handle. He took a breath and stepped inside.  The guards were laughing over drinks, their ruckus loud and uncouth, and a little bit bawdy. Ori walked closer, nerves nearly in pieces.

“Excuse me,” he said.

The guards turned to him, eyeing him like a pack of wolves on a sheep. Ori tried to stand a little straighter, act a little more mature.

“I’m here for Nori son of Riika,” he set the pouch down. “You’ll find everything in there.”

One of the guards picked up the bag, weighing it in his hand. “You’re a bit short, lad,” he sneered.

“That’s all we can spare,” Ori said.

“Come back when you have the proper amount for Nori’s bail,” he said. “Or we can find another payment method,” he reached for Ori, who backed away.

“Get away from him!” Nori shouted, banging on the bars. “Ori, I’ll be fine. Go home!”

“But Nori—”

“Go home!”

The guards laughed.

“Come now, Nori, your brother’s here for your benefit.” A guard seized Ori’s shoulders, pushing him forward. “You can’t say he’s not a pretty thing.”

The one who grabbed Ori pressed his nose into his hair. “Smells good,” he groaned. Ori shivered and his limbs locked. This was such a bad idea. He should’ve listened to Dori and stayed away, but who else would come for Nori then? Dori didn’t seem like he was about to any time soon!

“Get your filthy hands off him!” Nori shouted banging on the bars.

Ori shook the guard off, grabbing the bag. “Will you take the money and let him go or not?” he snapped.

The guards laughed. The first grabbed his shoulder. “Tell you what, lad: you and your brother can go home. But first, get on your knees.”

“Cranneg, you bastard!” Nori shouted. “Let him go! Ori, run! Just run!”

Ori’s eyes stung with unshed tears. “Please, let us go.”

“I promise I will,” Cranneg said, cupping Ori’s cheek. “As soon as you put that pretty mouth to work.” He traced the lines of Ori’s lower lip with his thumb. “So get on your knees.”

“What’s the meaning of this?”

Cranneg and the others backed away, revealing a tall Dwarf, a wall of solid muscle.

Ori felt lightweight and constricted at the same time. It was like being tied up with a rope and lifted into the air. It felt as though he was bound.

The Dwarf stared at him a moment, eyes widening for a moment. Then his gaze revealing nothing, as though he they had not registered any familiarity between them at all. He turned to the other guards. He glowered at them, crossing his thick arms over his broad chest.

“Well?”

“Nothing, Captain,” Cranneg said. “Lad wants to pay his brother’s bail. Doesn’t have enough, though.”

“Then send him home.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Nori shouted. “The bastard was going to make Ori suck him! Dwalin, you can’t just let him—”

“Cranneg will be disciplined,” he assured Nori. “And the lad can come back when he has enough to pay your bail.”

“Sir, it has to be today,” Ori said. “We need Nori at home right now.”

He turned to Ori again. “Lad, you don’t have enough to pay his bail.”

“Is there nothing I can do to convince you otherwise?”

Dwalin approached him, staring at Ori’s eyes. Ori stood his ground, refusing to look away from Dwalin’s gaze. “I’ll let him go for tonight,” Dwalin said. “But come to my office tomorrow morning and we’ll discuss an alternative payment method. All right?”

Ori nodded. “All right,” he said. “I will be here tomorrow.”

“Good lad,” he grabbed the keys and went to Nori’s cell. “Just so you know, Lad, if you don’t show up before eight o’clock tomorrow, I’ll have to arrest both you and your brother. Are we clear?”

“Or, you could leave me here until there’s enough money for the bail,” Nori said, refusing to budge.

“Nori, we have to go,” Ori said. Cranneg and his cronies were still eyeing him and he didn’t want to stay another minute here being ogled. “Please.”

Nori scowled at them and hooked his hand on Ori’s arm, leading him out. “You need to get out of Ered Luin tonight.”

“I’m not leaving! Unlike a certain Dwarf I know, I’m not dishonest!”

Nori groaned. “Damn it, Ori, what would you have done if Dwalin didn’t come when he did?”

“I don’t know.”

“Exactly! You don’t know! See: that is why Dori and I don’t want you coming down to the guard house!”

“We got out of there, didn’t we?”

“And now you’re going back to talk to Dwalin to figure out what you’re going to do about the whole bloody mess you put yourself in.”

“Can we worry about this later?” Ori begged. “Please? You’re the only one who knows where the rent is and it’s due soon.”

Nori muttered curses under his breath. “Fine,” he said. “But I don’t like this. I’m going with you tomorrow and if he tries anything, I’m cutting off his hands!”

“I don’t think he’ll let you get away with that,” Ori said, but it was comforting to know he wouldn’t have to go back to the guard house alone in the morning. They returned home and Nori went upstairs to retrieve the rent, running downstairs the moment their landlord arrived while Ori told Dori what transpired at the guard house and waited for him to finish his ranting.

Knocking cut Dori off and his jaw tensed. “Ori, go upstairs.”

“But—”

“Now,” Nori and Dori snapped, pushing him toward the staircase. Nori went up with him to grab the rent. Ori waited in the hall, arms crossed over his chest. He heard Dori speaking with their landlord, a noble named  Zamnil.

This sucks, he thought as Nori ran past him, his hand around a cloth purse. Ori peered over the stairs to watch. Nori handed the bag to Zamnil.

“Thank you,” he said. He didn’t leave. “If you don’t mind, I would like to stay for tea if I may.”

“Of course,” Dori said.

Ori sighed, watching from the stairs where Zamnil couldn’t see him and playing with his braid—the one that marked him a bearer. Dori had one, too, but he hid it well all his life, hiding it from prying eyes. No one guessed Dori was a bearer.

Ori tried to hide it, but Dori told him he should get married one day since he was the family’s hope. He hated it. If he was to marry, it would be after he had his long sought for adventure and he’d marry no one but his Sanzeuh.

“We have black tea and chamomile, my lord.”

“Black tea will do, thank you, Dori.”

“So what do you want?” Nori snapped. Ori could imagine him leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and lip curled in a snarl. “You wouldn’t stay unless you had a reason for it.”

“I heard that your youngest brother is about to come of age,” Zamnil said. “And that he has suitors vying their interest in him already. You’ve probably had many offers by now.”

“We have,” Dori said.

“I’ve come to offer my hand as well. It may have been a long time since I saw the lad, but rumors of his beauty has spread through all of Ered Luin. The three of you could live quite comfortably, Ori would want for nothing.”

“I’m afraid that Ori is not accepting any offers at this time, my lord,” Dori said, “Especially not before he is of age. I will tell you what I have told the others: you have to wait until he is a legal adult. Until then, please leave him alone.”

“Plus, you’ve not seen him since he was a lad,” Nori said. “You said as much yourself.”

“No thanks to you two, I’m sure. You hide him well.” Ori heard the chair scrape back. “I will come back when he is of age, then. And at that time, I hope you will have stopped keeping him hidden from sight. Thank you for the tea.”

The door closed and Ori stepped down the stairs. His brothers look at him. “No,” he said. “Anyone but him.”

Nori smirked and Dori nodded. “Want some tea? There’s some more in the pot.”

“No thanks. I should go to bed.”

Dori nodded. “I do wish you didn’t go to the guard house today, Ori,” he said. “We’ll both walk you there in the morning.” Ori accepted this. The likelihood he’d be able to say goodbye to his brothers was rather unlikely unless they did come with him.

#

His brothers entered with him. Cranneg was there again and eyes roamed over Ori, who all but hid behind Dori. “Where is Captain Dwalin?” Dori asked, effectively shielding Ori from Cranneg.

“In the back,” Cranneg said, nudging his head toward a shut door.

The brothers walked toward it and Dori knocked. Ori gripped his bag tighter and stared at his feet. He could feel Cranneg’s eyes on his back and he felt as though they were burning into him.

Finally, the door opened. “Come in,” Dwalin said, standing aside.

And there was the pull again. That nameless feeling of being tied down. Dori pushed Ori into the room. Once all of them were inside, Dwalin closed the door.

“Good morning, Captain,” Dori said. Dwalin gave him a nod. “First, I would like to thank you for understanding yesterday’s situation and for coming to Ori’s aid. Hopefully you’re men will be taught how they ought to treat a bearer?”

“They will be,” Dwalin assured him. “I don’t tolerate that behavior. As soon as we’re done here, Cranneg and his friends will be disciplined.”

Dori hummed, pleased with Dwalin’s assurance. “And how exactly do you plan to have Ori pay for Nori’s bail?”

Dwalin leaned against his desk. “Indentured servitude for a month,” Dwalin said. “He will work for a noble house in that duration.”

“And you’ve already selected a noble, I take it?” Dori asked, narrowing his eyes at Dwalin.

“I have,” Dwalin said. “He will work for me.” His brothers gaped at Dwalin. He could hear Nori’s teeth gnashing. Ori wanted to shrink or disappear.

This was worse, wasn’t it?

“Now see here…”

“You think we’re just going to let you put our brother to work for you?!” Nori shouted.

“Ori is underage and still in his apprenticeship!”

Ori cleared his throat. “I just have to work for you? Nothing more?”

“Nothing more,” Dwalin assured him. Ori sighed.

 “All right. I’ll go with you.”

Chapter Text

The last thing he was allowed to do before going with Dwalin was home to pack. He bade one more goodbye to his brothers, nearly being crushed by Dori’s hug, and followed Dwalin.

Ori kept one step behind him, eyes planted on the larger Dwarf’s boots. They turned toward him, halting. Ori kept his gaze downward. “Have you a master yet, Lad?”

Ori looked at him. “Pardon?”

“Are you someone’s apprentice?”

“No. I wanted to join the scrivener’s guild, but it’s too expensive for us and I’ve no talent with metal…but I can knit, so my brother has been trying to convince the weaver’s guild to take me on as an apprentice.  Um, I’m sorry, but may I ask why you wanted to know?”

“In case I had to write someone that you’d not be able to go to work for the next month,” Dwalin said. “Keep up.” They continued the silent march. The sensation of being held captive and also free wasn’t going away, but Ori wasn’t sure what it meant. He had hoped, if it was what he thought it meant, that Dwalin would have at least done something to confirm it.

Maybe it didn’t mean that Dwalin was his One. Maybe Ori just wanted him to be his One because it would certainly take care of the gaggle of suitors lined up at his door waiting for him to come of age in a few weeks. At the same time, he still wanted his adventure and Dwalin, he was sure of it, could give him an adventure he’d never forget.

They arrived at one of the wealthier districts of Ered Luin, Zabad-Nalil. Here, lords and ladies of the court resided. Ori’s stomach flipped. Dwalin had said he was a Lord, but exactly how was he a lord? Ori wasn’t sure he should ask though his curiosity burned.

They entered one of the houses and Ori blinked to adjust. There was very little light and dust tickled his nose. “I, uh, thought you’d have other servants.”

“They quit too often,” Dwalin said. Ori winced. That didn’t sound good. “With that in mind, all of this,” Dwalin waved his hand at the house. “Is your job,” he said. “Luckily, my cook has been working here for years, so you needn’t worry about that, but if she tells you to fetch her something, you do it, come back, and get back to your own tasks. Dusting, laundry, bringing me breakfast and dinner, and so on. The only room you’re not to go in is the last door down that hall,” Dwalin pointed at the right wing hallway. “Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Ori said. “Why—”

Dwalin glare at him and Ori silenced. Apparently he didn’t like to be asked too many questions. Ori looked at his feet.

“Any questions you have you can be answered by Katlin,” he said. “I’ll show you to your room.” Dwalin led him up the stairs to the servant’s quarters. There were several doors, all closed. Dwalin opened one of the doors. “Here you are.” Ori stepped inside. “You’ve an hour to get your things in order here and after that, go see Katlin in the kitchen. It’s down the stairs at the end of this hall. She’ll tell you where to find what you need.”

“Yes sir,” Ori said. No sooner had the words left his lips that Dwalin closed the door with a bang. Ori jumped and glared. “You needn’t be so rude,” he muttered crossing his arms. He took a breath and sneezed. Ori turned to see if there was a window and quickly opened it, gulping down fresh air.

At this rate, I’ll get a cold with all the dust in here. How can he stand it?

#

Ori rapped his knuckles on the wall and the woman turned to him, giving him the brightest smile he’d seen. “Are you Katlin?” he asked.

“Only Katlin around here, young man,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron, “Just as I take it your Master Dwalin’s new servant boy.”

“It’s just for the month, though,” he said. “I owe him a debt…I’m Ori, by the way.”

Katlin hummed. “A lovely name, and a bearer at that!” she giggled. “You seem like the type who gets a lot of Dwarrows vying for your attention.”

“Sadly,” Ori said, nose scrunching up. Katlin led him to a closet and opened it. “This place is rather clean compared to the rest of the house.”

“Yes, well, the master is a hard man. I can only stand him because I’ve known him since he was a bairn.”

“Doesn’t like questions either,” Ori said. “He answered one and then glared at me when I asked another about the room he doesn’t want me going into.”

“Oh, pay it no mind, dear,” she said, handing him a broom, duster, and dust pan. “Come back down for the mop when you’re done with the sweeping. I suggest starting at the front of the house and working your way to the back. Once that’s all done, you can get started on the second floor. Breakfast for us is at five, the master takes his at seven and then leaves and you’ll come down to wash the dishes before getting back to work. He usually eats out for lunch, and comes home in time for dinner, served as soon as he walks through the door. After that, he’ll either go to his secret room or to the library—”

“There’s a library here?”

Katlin patted his cheek. “I see you’re a reader, and normally I’d encourage that. For now, I advise against any distractions. Including books.” Ori nodded, cheeks heating.

“I should get to work…”

“Don’t let him run you too ragged,” Katlin said. “And he’s not so bad once you get to know him a little bit, and he knows you.”

Ori nodded, heading up the stairs to the front of the house. He set the cleaning supplies down and stared at the dark room.

The floors were stone and a round carpet lay in the middle of the room. On top of it was a worn wooden table with a glass vase with wilted flowers—a gift from an admirer, most likely. Ori ignored the bubble of jealousy building in him. He sneezed again, searching for windows. Finding two, he pulled the curtains back and opened them, letting in the light and air before grabbing the broom and sweeping the dust into a pile. He glared at the druggert free carpet under the table

What exactly did Dwalin do to chase out every servant he’s ever had?

#

Ori wiped his brow and grabbed the rod before he began to beat at the carpet. Dust flew off it and he coughed. He then wrapped his scarf around his mouth and nose and continued to beat it. Save for dried leaves and petals the carpet was in relatively good condition. He’d have to wash it, but that shouldn’t be too hard to do if they had beef’s gall and water.

“Having fun, dear?” Katlin asked. Ori turned to her, blinking. She was smiling with a tray in hand.

“Well, I wouldn’t call it fun,” he said, pulling his scarf down, “But at least I’m busy enough.”

Katlin hummed. “Certainly enough to forget to come have lunch.” Ori blushed. “Take a break to eat, Ori. You’ll run yourself ragged otherwise.” He took off his scarf, leaving it out with the carpet and approached.

“Gloves too,” she said, glancing at his fingerless warmers. “Not many wear something like that.”

“I know. I like to write a lot and my hands tend to…well, they tense up. My brother made these to ease my wrists and fingers.” He took them off and picked up one of the bread rolls. “Thank you,” he said before taking a bite. “There’s a lot to do here, isn’t there?”

“More than there should be for one person,” Katlin said. “But I think you’ll do just fine, Ori.”

Ori swallowed and took another bite. “It’s bearable, I suppose once he could speak again. “But I still don’t understand exactly why the others left? They don’t have to deal with him that much.”

“Only when there isn’t anything planned. The king pays Dwalin a visit quite often.”

“The king?!” Ori squeaked.

Katlin nodded. “Not as much since the last maid quit, she had quite a hard time with Dwalin. Stupid girl was hoping he’d fall in love with her. He rejected her as was his right, but she wasn’t going to stand for the humiliation of not marrying him. He warned her to leave him be and do her job. She instead went to the forbidden room and tried to break into it. He did fire her after that. And after she left, she told others that he was a horrible task master and had attempted to despoil her. No one wanted to work for him since. Not even his brother’s servants could stand to work here after that and the house, well, it was left to fall into disarray. Dwalin doesn’t go out much anymore save when he needs to.”

Ori glared at the half eaten bread roll. “That’s horrible,” he said. “Dwalin saved me from some of his men when I went to bail my brother yesterday. I have a hard time believing that he’s the kind of man who would hurt someone like that.”

“He’s not,” Katlin said. “Never stood for such evil. He always said it was bad form. Dwalin has always been kind to others and joined the army in order to protect. He and the king both are paragons of justice and mercy, despite how gruff the both of are.”

“He and the king get along well, then?”

“The king’s his cousin and they are very close friends,” Katlin said. “They worked together as blacksmiths during the days of wandering and before the king managed to give us a stable home again. So you are right to think that Dwalin couldn’t do anything that horrible. It doesn’t mean his reputation was wounded since. Several have called him a beast.” She sighed. “Deep down, I believe Dwalin is still the rascal he used to be when he was a boy. But you didn’t hear any of this from me.”

Ori nodded. “My lips are sealed.”

“Good,” Katlin said. “Finish up and then get back to that carpet. The entryway and halls look good, but the way, for a one person job.”

Ori grinned. “Thanks. And thanks again for lunch.”

“You’re welcome dear.” She took the tray and disappeared to the kitchen. Ori put his gloves on before getting back to beating the rug.

I think I could get used to this, he thought as dust flew off the rug. He blinked when dust got in his eye. Or this’ll take longer than expected.

#

Ori ventured into the dining room and wrinkled his nose.

At least there was a druggert under the table here. He opened the windows, making a note to wash the curtains, and took the hearth brush to the table before polishing the wood until it shined. He swept the druggert and dumped the crumbs into the hearth before lighting it.

Ori went to the kitchens and helped Katlin set the table with roast beef, potatoes buttered with garlic, and a jug of ale beside the cup. Ori set the table and Katlin gave him a pat to assure him he did well.

“I suggest closing the windows, though, to keep out the chill.”

“Right!” Ori said, jumping to close them. “Now what?”

“Now you stand there, with this,” she said, handing him the jug. “And fill his cup when he asks. When it’s empty, come to the kitchen and I’ll fill it for you. After dinner, you’ll bring the dishes back to be washed and we’ll have our own dinner.”

Ori nodded, gulping. “It seems a lot for one person.”

“Oh, his brother Lord Balin usually has dinner with him once a week. Don’t worry, you’ll do just fine. Lord Balin’s quite jovial.” She gave him a pat on the shoulder and disappeared into the kitchen. Barely a second later, Ori heard chatter outside the dining room.

“…time you got a new servant. I was about to suggest switching to having dinner at my house it was so filthy. You’re sure it’s just the one?”

“Yes. And I told you not to get used to it. He’s temporary,” Dwalin said, entering the room. He paused, glaring at the windows.

“You should consider hiring him permanently,” the Dwarf beside him said. “He did a good job.”

Dwalin rolled his eyes and they sat down. Ori filled their cups, hands shaking, though the guest, who he supposed was Balin, smiled encouragingly. Whatever ease it gave him was quickly snuffed by Dwalin’s glare. Ori swallowed and prayed he’d not screw up.

Chapter Text

Trigger Warning: Attempted Non-Con, Assault

Ori wished dinner would pass a little quicker than it felt it was. At least he was mostly ignored. He refilled Balin’s cup again, nodding his head at Balin's “thank you” as he walked around the table. His foot caught under the druggert and he tripped. The pitcher dropped from his hands and ale coated the carpet and druggert. Most, thankfully were caught on the druggert, but some landed on the carpet, seeping into the threads like a sponge.

“You clumsy fool!” Dwalin shouted.

“I’m sorry,” Ori said. “I’ll clean this right away—”

“Get out!” Dwalin shouted.

Balin stood and grabbed his arm, “Dwalin, it was an accident! Control yourself!”

“Do not tell me what to do in my own house, brother!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you controlled your temper,” Balin said.

Dwalin strode to the door. He glared at Ori. “Clean it. I want the stain gone by morning.” Ori nodded. What else could he do?

“Brother, be reasonable. The lad’s clearly exhausted.”

“That is not my concern,” Dwalin snapped, leaving the room. Balin gave Ori a sympathetic look before following after Dwalin. Ori could hear them shouting down the hall. Ori sighed and picked up the pitcher, blinking back his tears.

He entered the kitchen. “Can I get a brush and some beef’s gall?” he asked quietly. “Only a little got on the carpet. Most managed to get on the druggert…”

Katlin patted his cheek. “It won’t take long then. You’ll be all right, lad,” she assured him before handing him what he’d need to get rid of the stain. “He might not give you the credit, but you are doing the best you can and, so far, I am impressed. So is Master Balin. Now wipe away your tears. There now, it’s not all bad.” Ori swallowed and nodded, took the bucket, mop, and brush, and returned to the dining room.

I can’t even start one day without screwing up, can’t I?

#

The following few days weren't so bad. He got up with Katlin, ate breakfast, took Dwalin’s breakfast to him in the morning, took the dishes back to the kitchen to wash, and then dusted and swept the floors. Slowly, with effort, Ori made the house seem less haunted. The cleanliness was a cover, though, like a very pleasant looking mask. The house was usually quiet save for Katlin humming in the kitchen. Ori adopted the habit to keep the sensation of being watched at bay.

And then there was the music that played at night. He didn’t know where it came from and by the time he heard it, he was too tired to investigate. It sounded like an instrument between a violin and a cello. Sometime he swore he heard the piano. The music slowly became more and more like a lullaby to him.

When he had remembered it while awake, he asked Katlin about it.

“Did you go looking for it?”

“No,” Ori said. “By the time I hear it, I’m too tired to do much else but listen.”

“Then why bother searching?” she asked. “Pay it no more attention than that. Just listen. You needn’t think more of it.”

On the fourth evening, he spied Dwalin leaving the forbidden room in a hurry, forgetting to close the door and had not seen Ori standing in the hallway. Ori bit his lip and twisted his grip around the broom. His curiosity burned bright. A quick look, he thought. Just take a peek then go back to work. He gave in, setting the broom against the wall and went to the door. He looked inside.

It was a music room of sorts. In front of the window was a viol resting on its stand and pushed against the adjacent wall was a piano. Ori glanced behind him. Still no sign of Dwalin. Ori entered the room and approached the piano, staring at the sheet music. He plucked a few chords and grinned. It was the lullaby he’d been hearing.

“What are you doing in here?”

Ori backed away, gasping. Dwalin glared at him. “I was…I didn’t mean…I mean I…”

“I told you never to enter this room!”

“I didn’t touch anything! Well, just the piano, but—”

Dwalin was in front of him in two strides and seized Ori’s cardigan. “Get out!” he shouted, tossing him from the room. Ori braced himself against the wall. “And stay out!” Dwalin slammed the door in his face. Ori massaged his shoulder.

He couldn't do this anymore. Ori ran to his room stuffing his clothes into his bag and grabbing his cloak.

No wonder he can’t hold onto any servants. Whether that maid exists or not doesn’t matter anymore. Not to me. I can’t stay here! I won’t stay here! I’ll find another way to pay the debt. I was a fool to think he was my One!

His chest ached as though it was being scraped with a spoon from the inside out. He ignored it, wiping tears from his eyes and slung the bag over his shoulder. He raced down the stairs for the door. It was almost dark, but if he was quick, he guessed he’d be able to get home within a couple hours.

He hid his face as well as he can with his hood, stopping to glance behind him at the street. The clawing in his chest worsened, but Ori forced himself to move. He walked as swiftly as he could, eyes facing ahead of him and he paused when he came across one of the taverns Nori liked to go to. Ori’s heart pounded frantically in his chest and he kept to the shadows. 

People were coming out and one of them had a voice he couldn't easily forget. “Fucking bearer,” Cranneg growled. “Should’ve bent him over a table when I had the chance.” Ori’s head buzzed and he picked up his pace. Cranneg and his friend walked behind him.

“Isn’t he protected now? Isn’t he with the beast?”

Why are they following me? Mahal, help me, Ori prayed.

“Oi! You!” Cranneg shouted, tossing the bottle he had against the wall before catching up to Ori and throwing an arm around his shoulder. “What’s your hurry, Mate?”

“Just trying to get home,” Ori said, trying to deepen his voice a little. Nori said he often sounded a little squeaky.

“Don’t I know you?”

“No.” Mahal, please let him pass me by. Please, I beg you.

“Yeah, I do,” Cranneg slurred. He pushed Ori against a wall and pulled the hood down. “You!” Ori tried to shove him off, but Cranneg pinned him against the wall. “Oi, look who I found!” He pushed his knee between Ori’s legs. “What? Did Dwalin tire of you that quickly? I wouldn’t expect that brute to know how to treat a lad or lass well enough.” He leaned in and licked Ori’s cheek.

Ori turned his head and bit Cranneg’s cheek as hard as he could. Cranneg screamed and Ori ran.

“That bitch!” Cranneg screamed. “Get him!”

Get to Dori, Ori ordered himself. Get to Dori. Go home. Get home. Get Dori. Hands seized him, pinning him to the ground. A weight settled on his legs and hands pinned his wrists behind his back.

“You know what happened after you came in, Boy?” Cranneg sneered, placing a knife under Ori’s chin. “Dwalin fired me.” Ori couldn’t deny the fright he felt, but he wouldn’t show it. He refused to show them he was afraid. “I should shave you before slitting your throat,” Cranneg growled.

“That’d be a bit of a waste,” his companion said, thrusting his hips against Ori’s rear. Ori’s heart jolted.

Cranneg smirked. “Interesting,” he said. “We could also find some slave traders. He’d fetch a handsome price, so it’d be best not to bloody him up too much.”

No!

“What d’you think, lad? You think you’d fetch us a pretty penny? I think you would. He’d cost more if he’s unspoiled though.”

“Pity that,” Cranneg’s accomplice sneered. “Maybe they’d let us have a little fun after?”

No! Please no! Someone!

The other was yanked off him and Ori scrambled to his feet. Dwalin had pinned him to the wall. He slammed his fist into the Dwarf’s nose. He crumpled to the ground, hands pressed to his bleeding nose. Dwalin turned on Cranneg.

Cranneg grabbed Ori, knife pressed to his throat. “Not another move, Captain,” he growled. He pressed his nose into Ori’s hair. “He’s pretty, isn’t he? But you know, Dwalin, keeping them prisoner isn’t going to get you many lays.”

Ori could feel Dwalin’s fury rolling off him like waves. He could nearly hear him grinding his teeth. Ori took a breath and slammed his heel against Cranneg’s foot. Cranneg cried out and Ori twisted his arm, forcing the knife out of his hand. Once he was free, Dwalin seized Cranneg, slamming his fist into Cranneg repeatedly. Ori watched, unsure what to do with the roiling emotions he felt flowing through him.

“Dwalin? Dwalin, stop!” He grabbed Dwalin’s arm in both of his. “That’s enough.” Dwalin glared at him, and Ori wanted to look away, but he didn’t dare. “Stop. Please. You’ll kill him.”

“He should die.”

“Yes, he should, but it’d be murder at this rate. He’s not worth you being executed. It’s not worth it.” Dwalin turned to Cranneg.

“Run,” he sneered. “And don’t you dare come back.” He stepped away, allowing Cranneg and his crony to leave. They vanished into the dark and Ori bowed his head, gripping his bag's strap. “Are you usually idiotic enough to run off in the middle of the night?” Dwalin asked.

“Not usually…” Ori admitted, looking at Dwalin, who clutched his arm. “Are you hurt?”

“It’s just a scratch,” Dwalin said, though blood seeped between his fingers.

“But it could get infected,” Ori reprimanded.

“Ori, I’m a soldier. I’ve dealt with worse than a scratch.”

“I’m not taking any risks,” he snapped. “Is there an emergency kit at the guard house?”

“Yes.”

“The let’s go,” Ori said, changing directions for the guard house. Once there, Ori set a kettle over the fire and lit a candle while Dwalin fetched the kit. He set the box on the table and sat next to Ori, rolling his sleeve up. Ori bit his lip, wiping away at the blood. Once the water was hot enough, Ori poured it into a basin and dipped a clean cloth into it. Dwalin flinched away. “Hold still,” he said. He wrung the excess water out and pressed it to Dwalin’s arm just as Dwalin jumped back.

“Ah! Be careful will you? That hurt!”

Ori grit his teeth and dropped the cloth into the water. “If you held still maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much!”

“This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t run away!”

“If you weren’t so unpleasant to be around, maybe I wouldn’t have run away!”

“You shouldn’t have been in that room!”

“It’s a music room!” Ori snapped. “And the music is beautiful! I get that you need solitude sometimes, but most people have bedrooms for that! Not a music room! But you know what, that doesn’t matter because you have the nastiest temper I’ve ever known! Didn’t anyone teach you to control it?!” Dwalin gaped at him. He sighed. Ori picked up the cloth again. “Hold still this time. Look away if that helps.” He pressed the cloth to Dwalin’s arm and Dwalin hissed in.

Ori wiped at the blood as gently as he could, wondering why Dwalin came after him, and why he dared? It didn’t make sense. They weren’t each other’s One. They couldn’t be. Or were they? Ori didn’t know anymore. “Um, thank you,” he mumbled. Dwalin looked at him. “For, you know, saving me back there. I…” He shut his mouth and looked down at Dwalin’s thick arm.

“You’re welcome.”

Simple words…just words…yet the clawing Ori felt dissipated like a tidal wave washing over him once they were uttered. He grinned at Dwalin, who pointed out which poultice to use before tying the wound. After returning the things they used to their proper place and killing the fire, they went home.

Chapter Text

Ori knocked on Dwalin’s door around eight o’clock the following morning with his breakfast on a tray. “Come in,” Dwalin called. Ori opened the door and stepped inside. Dwalin sat at the table, pulling on his boots. Ori set the tray down. “Good morning.”

Ori turned to him, startled. “G-good morning?” he said, kicking himself for making it sound like a question. He stared at his shoes to hide the blush.

Dwalin stood, “Ori, I, well, I’ve never been good with…small talk. So I’ll just ask: would you have dinner with me tonight?”

Ori looked at Dwalin, unsure he heard him right. Dwalin’s cheeks were tinged and Ori bit his lip before he nodded, speechless. Ori wished the awkwardness would just melt away, but it didn’t seem it was about to any time soon. He backed away toward the door.

“I should…um…” He cleared this throat. “Enjoy your breakfast, Mr. Dwalin,” Ori said before leaving the room. He went to open the windows and let fresh air flow into the house before returning for the dishes after Dwalin had left for work.

Once in the kitchen, Katlin arched a brow at him. “You’re blushing quite a bit, Ori,” she said. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Ori said, scrubbing the dishes vigorously. Katlin crossed her arms and stared at him. He could feel her glare probing him. He set the sponge down. “Dwalin asked me to have dinner with him tonight.”

“Well about time!” Katlin said. “I’ve never seen a pair of Sanzeuh put themselves through such torture!”

“I don’t know if we really are—”

“Oh, you are,” Katlin said. “I’ve seen many lads and lasses find their Ones over the decades, Ori. Some may come across pain in their lives, but I’ve yet seen a pair try it reject the bond as strongly as you and Dwalin were. It’s not wise to do so.”

Ori fumed, glaring at her. “Katlin, he was rude, cruel, and a complete arse to me since I started working here! And now—”

“Now he’s asking you to have dinner with him.”

“I should’ve said no.”

“You should not have!” Katlin said. “You’re not of age yet, but you are old enough to meet you One and let him court you.” She sighed. “He didn’t expect to find you when he did. He doubts what he feels, Ori, and he shouldn’t. I can tell that you doubt as well. Ori, not many manage to find their Sanzeuh. You have. So the two of you need to stop fighting what you feel and accept it.”

“I’m not of age—”

“For how much longer?”

Ori sighed, turning back to the dishes. “A few weeks from now,” he said. “After I leave.”

“Then I think you’ve found your Sanzeuh just in time,” she said. “You have the opportunity to know him now. So get to know him, let him court you. Mahal wouldn’t have given you Dwalin as a One if you were not compatible. You may find you have more in common with him than you think.”

Ori didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure what to believe anymore. He was confused.

How could Dwalin just…switch around like that? How much should he keep guarded? Which version, the temperamental master or the bumbling suitor or the strict captain of the guard, was the real Dwalin? Or was it more complex than that? Was he all three?

And then there was his music—his beautiful, gentle music.

He grabbed the broom and climbed to the second floor. If—if—Dwalin was his One, then why would he have been so…

I don’t understand him, Ori thought. And I’m not entirely sure if I want to.

#

“What are you doing?” Katlin asked, finding him in the kitchen an hour before dinner.

“I was just—”

“No! Go clean up and find something nice to wear!”

“But—”

Don’t make me whip you with a towel, Boy!” Katlin snapped, shooing him from the kitchen.

Ori rolled his eyes, heading upstairs. It wouldn’t take him an hour to get ready for dinner. Besides, working had efficiently ebbed the feeling of butterflies in his stomach which now, as he stepped into the shower stall, returned with a vengeance. Ori gripped his stomach and pressed his face to the stone, shaking. He’d never been so nervous before. He’d never had dinner with anyone besides Katlin and his brothers before.

It’s just dinner! He shouted at himself. It shouldn’t make me feel this nervous!

He forced himself to stand and wash his hair and body, ridding himself of dust and sweat that accumulated through the day. He turned the water off and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist and returned to his room to dress.

He pulled a tunic on when someone knocked.

“May I come in?” Katlin asked.

Ori opened the door for her. “Something wrong?”

“No. Dinner is nearly ready. The roast still needs some time, so I thought I’d offer to braid your hair as your brothers aren’t available to do it for you.”

“Oh, um, thanks, I guess,” he said. Katlin picked up the brush and began taming Ori’s hair. A few minutes passed before each of his braids were back in place.

“There you are. A grand gentle-Dwarf.”

Ori ducked his head. “I’m not grand nor a gentle-Dwarf.”

“Oh, but you will be some day,” she said, patting his cheek. “You look a bit pale, Ori.”

“I feel like I’m going to vomit,” he admitted.

“Deep breaths, lad,” Katlin said. “It’s just the nerves. You’ll pull yourself together.”

“What if I don’t?” Ori asked. “What if I screw up and he yells at me again? What if I make a fool of myself? What if—”

Katlin covered his mouth to stop him from rambling. “Deep breaths, Lad. In and out.”

Ori obeyed and she pulled her hand away.

“I’m hearing a lot of ‘ifs’, Ori. I understand you and Dwalin had a rough beginning, but you’ll never get past that without a little effort and a little risk. Now look: Dwalin may be a demanding task master, but he has his soft side. He’s a warrior, Ori, a fighter.”

“We have nothing in common.”

“You do have something in common. You like stories, don’t you? So does Dwalin. Ask him about his tattoos and learn his tale. In return, tell yours. Life is one big story anyway.”

Ori’s stomach still felt like it was flipping. He nodded and Katlin led him down the stairs, parting at the kitchen. He stood outside the dining room and swallowed. With a shaking hand, he opened the door and entered. Dwalin stood by the fireplace, looking like a doe caught by a wolf.

He had changed out of his guard uniform and into black trousers and a long sleeved white tunic. He wore a leather jerkin over it. Ori fisted his green knit cardigan and stared at his shoes, feeling underdressed though these were the nicest clothes he owned.

“You look nice,” Dwalin said. Ori looked up, blushing.

“Thank you. So do you.” Wonderful, Ori, he snapped.

“Would you like to sit?”

Well at least I’m not the only one feeling a little off tonight, Ori thought, sitting across from Dwalin and stared at his plate. Should I tell a joke? No. That would not go well…

“Are you nervous?” Dwalin asked.

Ori blinked, looking up. “To be honest, I’m really nervous,” he said. “Until this morning, you were…quite different. It almost feels like you’ve…changed into someone else.”

“Well, we can’t really say our first impressions of each other were great,” Dwalin said. “I thought you were wimpy.” Ori bristled at that. “I was wrong. You’re tougher than you look.”

“That’s why you were an arse to me?”

“No,” Dwalin said. “I was trying to keep our current relationship as professional as possible. Ori, I’m used to being obeyed when I give an order. I do not take well to insubordination, intentional or not. I live in accordance to an ironclad rule.”

“Of what?” Ori asked, feeling a little snarky, “Obedience?”

“Structure,” Dwalin corrected.

“So what? My position as your servant gave you the right to yell at me for making a mistake or two?”

“I admit I was hard that first day, but I have a good reason for not letting anyone into the music room!”

“What? You think someone will come in and steal it from you?”

Dwalin scoffed, crossing his arms. “My music isn’t that good.”

“What do you mean it’s not good?!” Ori shouted, jumping to his feet and leaning on the table to glower at him. “It’s beautiful!”

Dwalin stared at him, silent.

Ori blinked. His face felt warm and he sat back down. “I mean…I hear it at night before I go to bed. The walls are thinner than you think, I guess. It sounds like a lullaby or a love song. I won’t tell anyone about it, you know, I get you have a certain image to keep up and I can respect that. But there’s nothing wrong with having a softer side.”

Dwalin chuckled. “Nothing wrong with having a tough side either.”

“I’ll have you know, I’ve two brothers and both are rather tough enough for all three of us, thanks. And I’m not that ‘soft’.”

“Aren’t you?”

Ori glared at Dwalin, who smirked. “I’m not,” he said. Dwalin snorted. “Can we talk about something else?” he asked. “Like maybe why you’ve so many tattoos?”

Dwalin arched a brow. “Katlin?” he asked. Ori winced and nodded.

“It was that obvious?”

“Most don’t bother to ask after them. Very few know why I get tattoos rather than wear braids.”

“You don’t wear braids?”

“If you’ve not noticed, my hair’s running a bit thin,” Dwalin said. “And tattoos are permanent if taken care of well enough. One day my beard might fall off.”

“Why?”

“Stress,” Dwalin admitted. “My life’s been one battle after another. I’m always on guard and it’s nearly impossible for me to let my guard down.”

“So much that you can’t let it down around a puny wimpy kid?” Ori arched a brow.

“You’re nearly an adult,” Dwalin said. “I wouldn’t be calling you 'kid' for much longer. Besides, I know adults less mature than you are.” He leaned back. “Do you really want to know?”

Ori blinked. He stared at the tattoos he could see. Runes, letters, images…each one detailing a story from Dwalin’s life. He licked his lips. “Yes.”

Chapter Text

Dwalin, Ori learned, was more than just a guard and a closeted composer. He was a descendant of Durin the Deathless, cousin to the king. Dwalin had charge of the princes’ training as warriors and at times the king’s sparring partner. He was a veteran of several battles and well known as the king’s shield-brother. He was the youngest son of Fundin, a renowned general from Erebor when the kingdom still stood. His elder brother was the king’s advisor (now that he wasn’t his babysitter).

Ori also learned that Dwalin’s favorite color was blue. He liked dogs, but his brother, who often visited, was terribly allergic so he could never have them around no matter how much he wanted them. He had an intense sweet tooth and his preferred pastry was a platter of biscuits. He was a good story teller when given the chance to tell a tale and was a good listener of other people’s tales.

“I figured as much,” Ori said. “Otherwise there’d not be a library here.”

“You know of it?” Dwalin asked.

“Yes, but I’ve not seen it yet. Katlin’s afraid I might lose myself in there.”

Dwalin scoffed and took Ori’s hand, leading him out of the dining hall and into a room that Katlin had locked. Ori had guessed this was the library, but never had the chance to look. Dwalin produced a key from his pocket—the master key, Ori surmised—and unlocked the door.

The room was dark.

“I don’t come in here as often as I’d like to, so whether you like it or not, it also needs to be cleaned,” Dwalin said, puling the curtains back.

Ori’s eyes flitted around the room. In one corner was a cold hearth filled with ashes. Beside it was a pile of logs and some matches. The floor was carpeted and there was a good layer of dust. There was a table also in need of dusting and polishing.

But what took his breath away was the number of books lining the walls.

“You don’t come in here often?” he asked. “It looks like you don’t come in here at all?”

“Too busy,” Dwalin said, shrugging. “Most of these are histories and epics.”

Ori grinned. “Give me two days in here and it’ll look lived in.”

Dwalin returned the smile. “Good. You can start tomorrow.”

#

Ori matched Dwalin’s tales and information bit by bit. He grew up poor, raised by his brother who had a lot of talent in weaving, but whose passion laid in opening a tea shop. His work didn’t pay enough and though Ori offered to also join the weaver’s guild, Dori had insisted he follow his dream to be a scribe and Ori had tried, but he couldn’t get a master. The most he could do was go through the preliminary classes.

To make ends meet, as Dwalin could guess, Nori took to thieving and was now called the king of thieves. When Dwalin officially became the captain of the guard a few years ago, Nori had finally found his ideal nemesis, or so Ori liked to say.

Dwalin just scoffed and muttered about how he could take Nori one hand tied behind his back and a Hobbit on his back.

He told Dwalin that his favorite color was green. Knitting was hobby that was also a bit of a job to help bring in a little extra money from the market. But his passion was writing and drawing. He never felt truly calm or relaxed unless he had a quill in hand, ink, and some paper. He liked sweets as well, but preferred salty things instead. He especially liked chips. Neither of them liked vegetables much and took to glaring at vegetables that weren’t potatoes.

#

Since Ori was shown the library, the house felt more peaceful than ever. He’d begin the day with the usual chores, break for lunch, finish his work and read in the library by hearth before Dwalin returned and they’d have dinner together.

Katlin would watch with a glint in her eye which they frequently ignored.

Ori found himself enjoying the moments spent with Dwalin.

Where there was once a near crippling anxiety to dining with him, there was now excitement. Dwalin had even allowed him into the music room and Ori would read quietly while Dwalin composed his music. Other times, Dwalin would listen to Ori read from one of the books in the library by the hearth.

It wasn’t a courtship, no matter what Katlin said.

True, the feeling of being roped and tied was still there, but it wasn’t so…intense, Ori guessed. It was undeniable, but also…controlled somehow. If anything, calling it a rope may be how it felt, but it was inaccurate. Rather, to Ori, it was more akin to being held close by secure arms.

His heartbeat usually quickened when Dwalin was nearby. He developed a bit of a sixth sense when it came to Dwalin. He merely needed to observe Dwalin for a moment and he could tell if it’d been a bad day or a good one. He could feel a bit of a shift of temperature when Dwalin was in the room as it got slightly warmer when he was near.

When he went to Katlin about these new feelings, she said this new “sixth sense” was because they had finally gotten their head out of their asses long enough to accept their bond. “The more you accept it, the more you’ll be able to pick up Dwalin’s moods and he yours. You’re happier, calmer, and even feel more balanced when you’re together. When you’re not together willingly, the separation is bearable because you know it’s temporary. But I would be careful of being forced apart. It isn’t pretty. It can be managed, but it will feel painful.”

“Like…a clawing, empty feeling?” Ori asked.

“It could,” Katlin said. “It is hard to say whether or not all pairs feel the same symptoms or not.”

#

Dinner was silent.

Dwalin was angry and Ori wasn’t sure how to ask what was wrong. Toward the end, Dwalin set his cup down and let Katlin fill it.

“The king asked me to host a small party in three days,” he announced.

Katlin winced. “Oh dear,” she said. “Thank you for telling me. The work alone…”

Dwalin ignored her as she mumbled under her breath. He looked at Ori who bit his lip.

“Why would he ask that?” Ori inquired.

“Something about the two of us needing to be more sociable,” Dwalin said. “Likely my brother bullied him into asking me because he knows I can’t refuse Thorin and, while Thorin is still the king, if Balin tells him to do something in a certain no-nonsense it-must-be-done sort of way, then Thorin will do it.”

“I’ll do my best to make sure the house is spotless,” Ori said.

Dwalin hummed. “Would you attend it with me?”

“What? As arm candy?” Ori asked, the corners of his mouth quirking upward.

Dwalin scowled. He had admitted that it was hard not to be attracted to Ori, which had made him doubt that Ori was his One. At first, Ori had been embarrassed and flustered. But he quickly turned it into a little joke between them, though Dwalin didn’t find it that amusing. “As my One,” Dwalin corrected. “I would not ask if I was still unsure.”

Ori’s face felt warm and his teasing smirk bloomed into a true smile. “I’d love to,” he said, biting back the habitual if you’re sure he was so used to saying. Katlin hummed, a closed mouth smile on her lips.

“What?” Dwalin asked, glaring at her.

“Oh, nothing,” she said, her grin brightening. “There’s an apple pie for dessert if you’re still hungry, Master Dwalin.”

#

Ori stared at his appearance in the mirror.

He smoothed out the grey freize breeches. He wore black leather boots that came halfway up his calves. He had tucked a white silk tunic under them and a dark green doublet with the fur of a grey wolf sewn into the fabric. His usual gloves were laid aside and his hands felt strangely cold.

He glanced at his braids eyes catching to the silver and gold beads Katlin had woven into his hair, along the left side of his head was a courtship braid.

A knock at the door told him it was time to go downstairs. His heart felt it had made a new residence in his throat as he stepped out of the room and offered Dwalin a smile.

“Don’t be nervous,” he said. “They won’t bite.”

“I know,” Ori said as Dwalin took his hand in his and kissed it. “I just feel like I’m pretending to be something I’m not.”

“You shouldn’t,” Dwalin said. “I would not ask you to be anything less than who you are.”

“I’m about to meet the king.”

“And that scares you? Thorin might be a grump, but he’s harmless. Unless you hurt his friends or family. Then he’s terrifying.”

“I think that’s normal of anyone,” Ori said. Dwalin nodded.

“See? Take away his title and crown and all you’re left with it s regular Dwarf.” Dwalin stopped them in front of the library. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Ori said. Which was not ready at all. Dwalin squeezed his hand and opened the door. Men and women greeted Dwalin, glancing at Ori with curiosity. Some even with longing, which made Ori keep closer to Dwalin as he was introduced as Dwalin’s One.

One Dwarf—tall, strong, with a thick head of hair streaked with silver among the black locks and a clipped beard with deep blue eyes—arched a brow at Ori’s introduction. Dwalin met his stare and the Dwarf shrugged.

“Who was he?” Ori asked.

“The king.” Ori blanched. How could he not have bowed?! Dwalin kissed his hand. “Don’t worry about him. He doesn’t care for ceremony among friends.”

“But I’m not a friend,” Ori reminded him. Dwalin opened his mouth to reply when Balin approached.

“Dwalin, is it true?” he asked. “You found your One? Are you certain?”

“I’m certain.”

Balin glanced at Ori. “Isn’t this the servant boy?” he asked quietly.

“He is.”

“Huh,” Balin grinned at Ori. “Welcome to the family, young man.”

“Thank you, Master Balin.”

Balin laughed and patted Ori’s shoulder. “None of that! Please, we’re to be brothers one day so I won’t stand for titles between us. I still don’t know your name.”

“Ori, son of Riika,” he said, tensing. Not many took to Mother’s Sons well. Balin just hummed and went to keep a pair of Dwarves close to Ori’s age from causing some sort of ruckus. Ori released a breath and smiled at Dwalin.

He noticed someone behind Dwalin staring at him. Glancing at the Dwarf, he felt cold.

“You know Lord Zamnil?” Ori asked.

“He’s an acquaintance,” Dwalin said, looking at him. “Why?”

“He’s…well…he’s one of my suitors.”

Dwalin turned to Zamnil again. “Is he…”

“No. He asked my brothers’ permission before I came here and I told them I’d not have him. They accepted that. But…”

Dwalin kissed his hand. “Ignore him, then. Let me know if he bothers you.” Ori nodded and Dwalin led the guests to the dining room. Ori could feel Zamnil watching him and he felt that the night was going to be longer than he had hoped it’d be.

Chapter Text

Beyond the occasional, curious noble, Ori was left alone once he and Dwalin separated. He felt a little drained and nearly becoming one with the wall was close enough to the peace he needed before he could venture into the fray again.

“I’m surprised you’re here.” Ori lifted his eyes to Zamnil. “They are saying you and Dwalin are each other’s Sanzeuh, is that true?”

“It is.”

“How do you know?”

“I wouldn’t expect someone who thinks they can own another to understand how the bond works,” Ori said. “I know he’s my one because I feel it, it’s a feeling that is recognized and accepted through the entire body, both in heart and mind.”

“Such feelings are felt between all who fall in love, Ori.”

Ori gave him an incredulous look. “Trust me: you wouldn’t know what it feels like to have a One until you actually meet your One. Plainly, it’s like, everyone is born with a rope tied around their waist but we don’t feel it or see it and yet when we meet our One, the rope retracts, pulling you together. Once the bond is accepted, there’s nothing nicer. You’re happier and calmer when you’re with them.”

“And you knew this—”

“The moment I met. It’s an instantaneous feeling,” Ori said.

“Ori, you know his reputation?”

“If you’re talking about the Dwarrowdam who said he tried to rape her, then yes. Dwalin is too honorable and I would thank you not to impugn my Sanzeuh.”

“He is a killer—”

“He’s a warrior,” Ori reminded him. “As is the king. Are you calling the king a killer as well?”

“No! Of course not.”

“Then do be careful what you say. I know my own mind.”

“You are a bearer,” Zamnil snapped. “With silly ideas running through your head of romance and honor. What would you know of it?”

“More than you, it seems.”

“May I cut in?” One of the younger nobles asked.

Zamnil ground his teeth and stalked away.

“I guess that’s a yes.” He took Ori’s hand and led him to the dance floor. “You looked like you needed help,” he said.

“I did,” Ori said. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he said. “Fili, son of Víli, at your service,” he bowed. “I’d have gotten Dwalin, but he’s talking to Thorin and Balin at the moment. Figured why interrupt when I could step in myself.”

Ori frowned and Fili chuckled.

“Don’t worry. I’ve yet to find my One, but I know he or she’s out there. I’m surprised a sourpuss like Dwalin found his before I could find mine. Not really fair…he’s my teacher and cousin, you see, so I tend to tease a bit.”

“So…wait, are you the prince?”

“I am,” Fili said, grinning as he led Ori into a dance. “What was the deal with Zamnil, if I may ask?”

“Unwanted suitor,” Ori summarized. “I’ve a bit more than I’d like and he’s one of them.”

“Hm…suitors can be troublesome when you’ve already found your One. Well, you’ve my support if that helps at all, and my brother’s and uncle’s.”

“I think it would,” Ori said. “Thank you.”

A hand touched his shoulder and he looked at Balin. “May I?”

Fili nodded, stepping aside.

“I suppose you want to discuss Dwalin’s relationship with me?” Ori asked.

“No, actually,” Balin said. “Though I do hope to get to know you better in the future, Ori. Dwalin told me you were an aspiring scribe.” Ori nodded. “I know a master searching for an apprentice. He’s a friend of mine, so Dwalin asked me to talk to him. However, I want to know if you’re all right with that.”

“I am!” Ori said, grinning. He blushed. “I…I mean…”

“Don’t fret, lad.” Balin said. “I’ll write him in the morning.”

“Will you even remember?” Dwalin asked, leading a Dwarrowdam by them.

“Of course I will!” Balin snapped. “Have a little faith in me.”

“I’ve as much faith in you as you have color in your hair,” Dwalin retorted.

 “Well at least I still have hair,” Balin added. Dwalin scowled at him as he switched places with his brother. “Have fun.”

“Shut it!”

Ori shook his head, smiling. “You’re worse than my own brothers.”

“I take offense to that,” Dwalin said. “We’re far more mature.”

“No. Not really.”

Dwalin sighed. “Story of my life, I guess. Managing to enjoy yourself?”

“As much as I possibly can. You?”

“Thorin’s already tried sneaking out a couple times already,” Dwalin said. “That’s what we get for having an introverted king, I suppose. I nearly joined him myself those times.”

“Without me? You’d leave me to these sharks?”

“They aren’t that bad.”

“I suppose not,” Ori said. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m suited for these sort of events.”

“You’re doing fine as it is,” Dwalin said, “Even managed to dance with a prince.”

“Fili was nice,” Ori agreed.

“Fili? Nice?” Dwalin looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Must be feeling sick. That or he’s up to something.”

“Be nice!”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s planning anything,” he said.

The music ended and they applauded the musicians as they took a bow.

Slowly, guests bade them good night, filing out of the house. When Zamnil approached, he congratulated them on finding each other but there was a cold glint in his eyes that worried Ori, who squeezed Dwalin’s hand a little harder.

Once he had left, Dwalin kissed Ori’s hand as if to assure him he was safe.

Thorin approached with his nephews. “Thank you, Dwalin. And I’m sorry as well.”

“For what?” Ori asked.

“We both hate parties,” Thorin and Dwalin said in unison. Ori nodded. He had almost forgotten that. Fili shrugged. His brother seemed a bit quiet and refused to talk, but he nodded at them before following his brother and uncle out of the house.

“Kili’s not been in a good mood lately,” Dwalin said. “Thorin’s arranged for other lords of similar standing to try for his hand.”

“Is that even okay?”

“Thorin’s just worried about him. He wants Kili to be well cared for, though he can take care of himself just fine. Kili’s a smart lad, and usually more talkative…”

“He’ll be all right, though. Right?”

“There’s nothing I think Kili can’t handle. He’ll be just fine, regardless what happens for him next,” Balin answered, approaching them. “And now I take my leave. It wasn’t as bad as you think, wasn’t it?”

Dwalin groaned. “Never make Thorin do that again,” he said.

“Well how else am I going to get you to socialize?” Balin asked. He patted his arm. “Have a good night, brother. And you, too, Ori.”

“Thank you, Master Balin.”

“Just Balin, Ori.” He bade goodbye again and left. Ori deflated. Silence at last! Blissful, peaceful, wonderful silence!

He looked around the room and frowned at few stains and marks in the floor. “I’ve work cut out for me tomorrow, huh?”

Dwalin shrugged. “At least this room didn’t have a carpet.”

Ori laughed. “That’s true! That’d be the worst!” Dwalin led him toward the staircase. “Thank you for tonight. I…well, I tried to enjoy myself. It was a bit hard after an hour or two.”

“That, I can understand,” Dwalin agreed.

At the top of the stairs, he took Ori’s hand again, halting them. Ori looked at him, feeling confused. “Dwalin?”

Dwalin swallowed and took a breath. Ori didn’t understand why he felt nervous. “We are each other’s One, but have I actually told you that I love you?” Ori blinked. It was something he already knew. He didn’t know how, but he knew. He shook his head. Dwalin cupped Ori’s cheek. Ori thought it only natural to lean into the touch. Dwalin’s hand was warm and there was a comfort to it which Ori didn’t realize he had craved. “I love you, Ori.”

“I know,” Ori said. “I love you too, Dwalin.”

For a moment, Dwalin was still. Then he gently pushed Ori back until his back hit the wall and Dwalin pressed his lips to Ori’s. For a moment, Ori wasn’t sure what to do. Then he leaned into the kiss, hands resting on Dwalin’s shoulders. He closed his eyes. Dwalin’s hand snaked around to press against the small of Ori’s back. Ori felt like he could float if he wished, or fly. Too soon, it ended and Dwalin stepped back, hand still pressed against Ori’s flushed cheek.

“Goodnight, Ori,” Dwalin said, heading to his room before Ori could answer. Ori leaned against the wall, willing strength to return to his legs long enough for him to get back to the servant’s quarters. He could still feel the heat of Dwalin’s hand against his cheek, how his slightly chapped lips pressed against his own.

And he smiled.

Chapter Text

Somewhere in the house, a clock chimed the morning hour and Ori, by force of habit, opened his eyes. Dwalin’s touch, which had stuck with Ori when he had gone to bed, had vanished from his skin and the tingle his kiss had left on Ori’s lips was gone as well. For a moment, Ori thought it was just a dream, but he smiled again on remembering that it wasn’t.

“Ori, dear?” Katlin shouted. “Are you up yet?”

“Barely,” he said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. The door opened and Katlin arched a brow, trying to look stern, but her lips quirked into a smile.

“Best to wake up now, Ori. You’ve a lot to do before tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?”

“I thought you’d be happy to go home,” she said. “Today’s your last day.”

Oh, that’s right, Ori thought, feeling his heart drop to his stomach. He stared at his hands for a moment before getting. “I guess I should…” Should what? Bring Dwalin his breakfast? Clean the ballroom?

“Ori.” Katlin took his hands. “You’re always welcome to come back.”

“I know, I just…I don’t want to leave. But if I don’t my brothers…”

“They’ll understand.”

“I don’t think they will,” Ori said. “Dori won’t because I’m underage and Nori won’t because he and Dwalin hate each other…”

“When do you come of age?”

“Next week?”

“Then why would they stand between you and your One.”

“That’s the thing! They don’t have Ones! What if they think I have Captive’s Sickness? They already have to beat away tons of suitors because I’m…”

Katlin approached him and cupped his face in her hands, pressing her forehead to his.

“Ori, no one can tell you what to do with your life. Not even your brothers. Even if they don’t understand now, you will find a way to be with Dwalin. Mahal brought you two together and together you will be. Maybe not now, but one day for sure. Now clean yourself up and don’t let your tears interfere with your work.”

Ori nodded and Katlin hugged him.

“We’ll miss you Ori. But remember you’re always welcome to come back.” He nodded. Katlin let go and left the room, allowing Ori to get ready for the day.

I’ll come back, he decided. Whether my brothers want me to, I’ll come back. They can’t stop me once I’m legally an adult, after all.

That decided, Ori dressed, ate, and brought Dwalin his breakfast. Dwalin was still in bed, hiding his face in his pillow. Ori stared at Dwalin’s back, admiring that tattoos etched into the skin. He cleared his throat and Dwalin groaned.

“Good morning,” Ori said as Dwalin peered at him. “Breakfast is ready, so…well…”

“Last day,” Dwalin said.

Ori bowed his head. “I know. I wish it wasn’t.” Dwalin stood and approached him. He wrapped his arms around Ori, fingers cradling his head. Ori focused on Dwalin’s scent, trying to memorize it along with the warmth Dwalin’s body emitted. He returned the embrace and closed his eyes. “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave you.”

“It’s not forever.”

“That doesn’t make it easier. I know I have to go back only if just to let my brothers know I’m all right, but I don’t want to leave…not after I’ve found you.”

“Ori, look at me,” Dwalin said. Ori obeyed and Dwalin cupped his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere. Men sanmizim, I will always be there when you need me. You’re just going home—”

“You’re my home!” Ori said.

“What about your brothers?” Dwalin asked. “They’ll understand.”

“No, Dwalin. They won’t. I know they won’t and it’d be pointless to hope they will!”

“If they need time, then so be it,” Dwalin said. “One day we will be together and I will wait as long as I must.” He let Ori go and approached the desk, pulling a bead out of a small pouch. It was carved from jade and inlaid with gold runes. “May I?”

Ori nodded and sat beside Dwalin. His heart hammered in his chest as he let Dwalin weave a new braid into his hair and the bead.

“Work hard today,” Dwalin said. “I’ll take you home tonight and we’ll talk to your brothers then.” Ori nodded. He left the room and went to grab the broom and dustpan.

Tell his brothers? How pointless would that be?

#

Ori was reluctant to let go of Dwalin’s hand as they stood outside the house. Dwalin kissed his hand and release him before approaching the door and knocking.

It swung open barely a moment later and Dori’s eyes settled on Ori. Ori smiled, but his hands gripped the straps of his bag in a death grip. “Hi, Dori,” he said.

“Are you all right? Not hurt?” Dori asked, grabbing Ori and hugging him. Ori gasped for air. “Lord Zamnil said you were—”

“Whatever he said, he lied,” Ori assured him. “Nothing happened that would be cause for worry.” Except that one time I tried to run away, he thought. “I’m really all right, Dori, so please stop squishing me. It’s a little hard to breathe.” Dori released him and Ori filled his lungs. Dori’s fingers went to the courting braid in Ori’s hair.

“No reason to worry, you say?” Dori asked.

“There really isn’t,” Ori assured him. “Dori, I found my One.”

Dori scoffed, lowering his hand. “You’re too young to have a One, Ori. Suitors or not.”

“I’m just a few days from being an adult,” Ori reminded him. “It’s completely possible for me to find my One.” Dori turned to Dwalin.

“This is your bead, I take it?”

“It is.”

“Lord Dwalin, may I have a word—”

Ori grabbed Dori’s tunic. “You told me I could choose for myself!”

“When you were of age!”

“Which is a week from now?! What difference would it make?! I’m not a child anymore!”

“Ori, go inside before I drag you in!” Dori shouted. Ori released him and glowered. He looked at Dwalin once more, biting his lip, and entered.

Once the door had closed behind him, he heard Dori yelling at Dwalin. He could feel Dwalin’s fury rising and turned to go back outside, but a hand grabbed his shoulder. He looked at Nori.

“Don’t bother,” he said. “How about you go to your room? And maybe take that out.” Nori flicked the bead. Ori clutched at it.

“No. Nori, stop them.”

“Why?”

“He’s my One! Does that mean nothing to you?!”

“How would you even know he’s your One?” Nori asked. “How are you so certain that you don’t have Captive’s Sickness—”

“I don’t!”

“But how do you know?”

“Nori—”

“Nadadith, you’re still a kid.”

“For another week!”

“Being of age is not the same as being an adult.”

“As if you know what it means to be an adult!” Ori shouted, shoving Nori back and running to his room. He leaned against the door and let the bag drop to the floor before he broke into tears.

#

Ori entered the library and approached one of the Scribes. The Dwarf looked at him beneath his spectacles, lips pinched.

“May I help you?”

Ori took a breath. Must the Dwarf look down on him like that? “I’m looking for Master Thungni?”

“Ah, you’re the one Lord Balin insisted I meet,” the scribe—Thungni—said. “Follow me.” Ori obeyed, letting him be lead to a door in the back of the library. Within were two desks and candles. Thungni lit them and turned to Ori. “Today is just a trial day. I don’t like to waste my time on an apprentice who has no chance at succeeding as a scribe.”

Ori nodded. “I understand, Sir.”

“Good. Sit there,” he pointed at the smaller desk and handed Ori two tomes. One filled and the other empty. The tome that was complete was old and the binding was falling apart. The other was a new book. “Copy the contents of this book to the new one. You do not have to complete it today. It would be folly to imagine anyone could.”

Ori nodded and opened the two books. Thungni’s back was turned and Ori began to write in tight runes.

“Are you of age, Lad?”

Ori looked up, putting the quill in the inkwell before it could splotch the page. “Not quite,” he said. “Tomorrow’s my seventy-fifth birthday.”

“And that braid?” Ori’s fingers went to Dwalin’s braid. His brothers kept begging him to take it out, but he refused. “From a suitor?”

“It’s from my One, Sir.”

“Lord Balin’s brother, I assume?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Thungni hummed. “You’re one of the lucky ones that find their One while they’re still young. You have my congratulations. Well then, don’t let me take more of your time.” He looked at his own work again and Ori sighed and hummed Dwalin’s lullaby under his breath.

Chapter Text

His brothers tried to make his birthday into the celebration it ought to have been, but Ori had only pushed them away, wanting to spend the time alone, since being with Dwalin wasn’t really an option.

The clawing had come back and it didn’t feel like it’d ever go away this time.

Ori sighed and hugged his pillow. He was still waiting for Thungni’s letter of approval to come and let him know he’d let Ori be his apprentice. More than that, he wanted to see Dwalin.

“…he’s a monster. A beast of the worst sort…” Ori blinked and sat up. “It is quite possible that Lord Dwalin had abused his position…” He knew that voice. Ori stood and marched down the stairs to see Zamnil stirring a spoon in his tea. “The poor girl was never the same—”

“What are you doing here?” Ori sneered.

“Ori!” Dori hissed, blanching at the neglected manners.

Ori didn’t care. He crossed his arms and glared at Zamnil. “You’re talking about Dwalin, aren’t you?”

“It’s for your own good, Ori,” Zamnil sighed, setting the spoon down. “I don’t know what happened, but that you returned believing he was your One is cause for worry.”

Ori looked at Dori. “You don’t actually believe this, do you?!”

“Well, there are rumors,” Dori admitted. “I’m sure you know that, but there’s no proof it didn’t happen.”

“Why can’t you take my word that nothing untoward happened between Dwalin and me?” Ori shouted. “You don’t know him well enough to hate or condemn him! That woman lied about what happened, Dori! And so is he!”

Zamnil sighed. “Ori, I’m only concerned about your wellbeing.”

Ori looked at him. Concerned for his wellbeing? “That’s a load of bullshit. You aren’t concerned about me at all. You just want me for yourself, so you decided to impugn Dwalin to my brother.”

“This again?” Dori muttered.

Ori seized Zamnil’s tunic. Dori shouted at him to let him go, but Ori refused. “The only reason you’re here is because you want me to be your husband! I will never want you. I never did! The only monster I see anywhere is you!” he pulled Zamnil out of the chair and dragged him to the door. “Get out of my house and don’t you dare come back!” He shoved Zamnil out the door. Seeing him land on his on the ground outside gave him some pleasure before slamming the door in his face.

“Ori, what have you done?!” Dori shouted.

“What was necessary,” Ori said. Dori grabbed his arm. “Let go of me!”

“What has happened to you? You never acted like this before! Even if the rumors are false, something happened and it is time I know what?”

“I already told you! Dwalin is my One. Dori, please, I want to see him again. I’m of age now, so why does it matter so much that I not see him?”

“Because it’s ludicrous!” Dori shouted. “Finding your One so soon is impossible! Especially if it was before you came of age! I’m scared, Ori! I’m scared for you!”

“You don’t even know Dwalin!”

“That is why I am scared! I don’t know him! Even if he isn’t the monster people say he is, he is still a warrior and a brute! All of them are brutes! You know this!”

“Them?”

“Guards,” Dori specified. “He is a guard, Ori. You’ve seen what they’ve done to Nori. I’m not saying what Nori does is right, but there is no reason for him to be beaten as badly as he is! You know this! They tried to rape you once!”

“Twice,” Ori corrected. Dori’s grip slackened. “Both times, Dwalin was the one who saved me. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Of course it does, but—”

“But nothing,” Ori said. “Dori, why would I lie about this? Why would I lie about finding my One? Why would Dwalin lie? He’s been nothing but honorable since I met him. Talk to Katlin if you must. Or Lord Balin. They know him best.”

Dori sighed. “Fine. I will talk to his servant when I have the time. But until I know him better, you are not courting. This braid is only one of intent for now. You are not courting until I say so.”

“You said it would be okay when I was of age.”

“And you met him before you were of age! You may trust him, Ori, but I don’t! And I won’t trust him until I know without a doubt that I can!” He took a breath. “I’ll talk to his servant. Katlin, was it?” Ori nodded. “I will talk to her. And I will talk to Dwalin. But in the meantime, you just have to be patient.”

Ori nodded. “Fine,” he said. “Fine, so long as I can see him too.”

“We will discuss that later,” Dori promised. He went to the table and cleared the table as Ori tried not to seethe by the door. Ori pinched the bridge of his nose.

Why is this more complicated than it should be?

#

…I am pleased to inform you that I have decided to take you on as an apprentice, the letter read. Ori grinned and read on.

“Well?” Nori pressed. “Did you get the apprenticeship?”

“I did,” Ori said, beaming at him.

Nori smirked. “I knew you would.”

Ori blinked and narrowed his eyes at him. “You didn’t have anything to do with this, did you?” Nori covered his heart.

“I am hurt you would think me capable of it! Besides, that old geezer’s scary. Even if I wanted to threaten him, he’d probably just stab me with a quill and kick me to the curb.”

“You’d deserve it.”

“Don’t be cruel, Nadadith! I got you’re your robe and cowl!” Nori said, pouting. Ori ignored him and set the letter down before looking at the other for him. It bore Dwalin’s sigil but not his handwriting.

Dear Ori,

I hate to tell you this, but Lord Zamnil has challenged Dwalin to a duel for your hand. It is intolerable that he would do this! Still, you’re presence will be requested at the arena in a few hours. The letter should get to you before the guards arrive.

I thought it would be better if you knew about this.

Sincerely,

Katlin daughter of Lakin

Ori stood. “Dori!” he shouted. “Dori!” Nori grabbed his hand and read the letter, mouth thinning into a line. “What do I do?”

“Get ready to watch a duel, of course. I wouldn’t worry about Dwalin. He’s not as strong as Dori, but he’s strong enough.”

“But—”

“Ori, Dori is at the shop. You can’t bother him with this. I will go with you, okay?” Nori squeezed his shoulder. “Now go get ready to watch a duel.”

“I don’t like this,” Ori said, heading for his room.

“Neither do I,” Nori admitted. “But it’d be nice to watch Zamnil be thrown around like a ragdoll at least.” Ori managed to smile at that. “See, Dwalin can manage himself.” He looked out the window. “They’re coming now. Hurry.”

Ori ran to his room and changed into the tunic and trousers he had worn at the party. He swallowed, wondering if he was overdressed. To dull it, he grabbed one of his cardigans and pulled it on before switching to his best gloves. He made sure Dwalin’s braid was visible just before a hard knocking pounded at the door.

He raced down the stairs as Nori let the guards in, telling them he’d go with Ori as his guardian. The guards didn’t seem happy but they allowed it. They led them to the arena. Ori wished it wasn’t as great a procession as it was. He could feel eyes on him and he hated it.

The arena was a sand pit dyed brown from the blood of those who had been injured. He was led to a seat on the south side with Nori. On the north side stood the king and his nephews. Ori’s stomach flipped when he saw Dwalin step out, donned in armor and clutching axes. Zamnil bore a broad sword.

Nori squeezed his shoulder. “Courage little brother,” he said. “Dwalin has the upper hand. Remember that.” Ori nodded. It was hard not to remember that. He’d seen Dwalin’s strength. But that didn’t mean that Zamnil wouldn’t try anything. Thorin approached them, declaring the duel will end at first blood. Ori looked at Nori, confused. “That means they are allowed to injure, but not kill.”

“They could die anyway.”

“Aye,” Nori said, pulling his pipe out. “But it’d still be a part of the duel. The killer would be pardoned.”

“That’s not comforting, Nori,” Ori hissed.

“Hush. Watch. Your One is about to fight for you.” Ori ignored the taunting in Nori’s voice.

“Begin,” Thorin declared, sitting in his seat.

Zamnil charged and Dwalin easily blocked his strike with one ax, using the other to swing at Zamnil. Zamnil jumped out of Dwalin’s reach. He jabbed his blade at Dwalin and was blocked again. Dwalin shoved him back and tripped Zamnil, pressing the blade of his axe against Zamnil’s throat.

“Well that was faster than I expected,” Nori said. “See what I mean? It was really no contest.”

Dwalin bowed to Thorin, exchanging few words quietly with him. Thorin pointed in Ori’s direction and Dwalin turned around.

“Well, after today, no one can really contest his right that you’re his,” Nori sighed. “Not that Dori and I approve, you know.”

“I know,” Ori said. “Do I…”

“Nah, best if you stay here,” Nori said. “Dwalin will come to you when the King says it’s all right.” Thorin waved his hand in a shooing sort of motion and the princes laughed at something Dwalin said. He approached and Ori leaned on the rail.

“You came,” Dwalin said, cupping Ori’s cheek. Ori took his hand, smiling at him. “I missed you.”

“As did I,” Ori said, “I missed you so much, Dwalin.”

The crowd erupted in screams and Ori barely saw the flash of steel. Dwalin shouted and fell, blood spilling from his side. Guards restrained Zamnil dragging him before the king. Ori jumped into the arena and pulled the cardigan off, pressing it to the wound.

“Dwalin? Dwalin, don’t close your eyes!”A healer pushed Ori away as he and another stripped the armor off Dwalin. Nori pulled Ori away from them. He spoke, but Ori couldn’t’ hear him. “Dwalin!”

~Epilogue: One Year Later~

Nori met Ori outside the library. “Not off to see your guard, are you?”

“Not tonight,” Ori said. Nori chuckled. Ori might have Dori tricked, but Nori wasn’t, even if he didn’t know how often Dwalin and Ori met outside Dori’s supervision. “Why are you here?”

“What? I can’t walk my brother home?”

“Not unless you’re up to something. Which you are, considering what you’re wearing now.” Nori looked down at the black leather he wore and sighed.

“Well, I guess you’re about to find out anyway. I found my One.”

“And?” Ori asked, smirking.

“And Dori and I were ignorantly stupid,” he said. “How you and Dwalin managed it for a year I’ll never know. I couldn’t stand a month or so without mine.”

“Well now you know,” Ori said as they walked home. “Now what?”

“Erm…I’ll need to talk to Dori first, but I should be able to convince him to let you and Dwalin court. I still don’t like him though.”

“I doubt you ever will, Nori,” Ori sighed. “But at least you know. Who is your One, if I may ask?”

Nori smirked, “That’s for me to know and you to find out. Eventually. I think you’ll like him.”

“I hope so. And Nori.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

Nori wrapped his arm around Ori’s shoulder. “Anytime, Nadadith.”

“Nori, give me my bead back.”

~The End~