Chapter Text
Chapter Three
Bella woke to Fíli and Kíli bouncing on her bed.
“You two are just overgrown dwarflings,” Bella groaned, not at all ready to be up, “I hope that you realize that.”
“You slept for longer than six hours,” Kíli tilted his head in curiosity, “We’ve never known you to do that before. I though Hobbits needed less sleep than other races.”
“I lost a lot of sleep on the way to Mordor,” Bella said, sitting up and stretching, “My body’s still catching up.”
“You can sleep some more if you like,” Fíli offered, “But everyone’s gathering for breakfast and it’ll be last time that you see the rest of them all until dinner.”
“I’m up,” Bella decided, shoving her thick covers to the side and shivering when she was hit by cool air.
“Here,” Fíli passed over to her the sheer white dressing gown that she’d brought from Gondor. Bella slid it on over her nightshift, although it did little to warm her.
“What is everyone up to today?” Bella wondered, “Will they be very busy?”
“I’d say so,” Kíli responded.
“Thorin named all of the members of the Company his High Lords,” Fíli explained, “And gave them high-ranking positions in the kingdom to go along with their shares of the treasure.”
“What positions?” Bella asked, “No one’s said much about what you’ve all been doing this past year, except for, well…”
“Balin is the Chief Advisor to the Throne of Erebor,” Kíli answered quickly, “And Dwalin is the Master of the Captains of the Royal Guard, not that there are many guards yet, let alone captains.”
“Dori is the Guildmaster of Erebor,” Fíli said, “Which means that he’s in charge of all the other Guild Chiefs and is responsible for settling any disputes between the guilds. He’s also been working on opening a tea shop, the Silver Raven, he’s taken to calling it, which will be ready for business once the caravans from the Blue Mountains arrive. Nori is Erebor’s Spymaster and the leader of the Shadow Shields, the kingdom’s secret enforcers. Only the Company is supposed to know about its existence. As far as most everyone else in concerned, Nori is the only spy in Thorin’s employ.”
“Ori’s the Master Scribe of Erebor and is in charge of the Great Library. He’s the only scribe in the kingdom right now. Bombur is the Master of the Kitchens and the Keeper of the Keys for the food stores and granaries. Bofur is the Chief of the Miner’s Guild and the Executive Foreman of all the Gem Mines. Bifur is the Chief of the Woodworker’s Guild and, with Bofur’s help, has constructed a toy shop, The Gilded Toy Chest,” Kíli revealed, “Bifur’s skill in toy making really is unparalled and Bofur’s pretty good at it too.”
“Óin was appointed the Master of Erebor’s Royal Healers,” Fíli finished, “And Glóin is the Master of the Treasury, keeping track of all of Erebor’s profits and expenditures. It sounds rather boring, really, but he’s happy.”
“And the two of you?” Bella inquired, “Or was being Princes enough?”
“Kíli is the Chief of the Silversmith Guild,” Fíli replied, “And I’m the Chief of the Jeweler’s Guild. Although, to be honest, when it comes to these new titles, we really haven’t been given too much work to do yet.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, the silver and gold mines are still blocked off and will be until there are more structural engineers available. Those mines took the brunt of the damage when Smaug was living here,” Kíli shrugged, “The gem mines were mostly intact, but there really aren’t enough miners in the kingdom to do anything but shallow mining, which doesn’t produce anything but really tiny jewels. So, my two silversmiths and Fee’s three jewelers don’t have an abundance of fresh materials to work with yet. They’ve been helping to fix things around the Mountain, mostly. All Fee and I have to do is make sure that they’re being paid properly.”
“I’m sure that you two will do a marvelous job of things once production picks up,” Bella told them, no doubt in her mind that this was the truth.
Fíli and Kíli puffed up proudly.
“So, what will we be doing today?” Bella inquired as her brothers led her out of her bedroom.
“We’re going to Dale,” Kíli answered, “There’s someone there who really wants to see you, Bél.”
“Tauriel,” Bella smiled, “I like that plan very much.”
“We thought that you might,” Fíli grinned, “And we can explore Dale’s markets while we’re there. They’re more diverse than Erebor’s right now, because of all the traders from the settlements between here and Rohan. I’m sure that we can find some pretty threads for you to weave with.”
“After breakfast, you can help me pick out which tapestry to make first,” Bella said, “I’ve got several planned out. That way I’ll know what color threads to get from Dale.”
The rest of the Company was already in the dining room, afflicted with varying degrees of sleepiness. Bofur’s shirt was backwards, Dwalin was shirtless, and Glóin had forgotten his trousers. The only three who appeared wide awake were Thorin, Balin, and Bombur. The former two were poring over reports of some kind, while the latter was giving his chefs explicit instructions on where precisely to place each dish being carried in. Bella was extremely relived that Thorin’s foul mood from the night before seemed to have passed.
Bella’s two eldest brothers plunked her down in a chair across from Dwalin and then claimed the chairs on either side of her. A steaming pot of thick, black coffee was set in front of Dwalin, who reached out for it before it had even begun to cool and began gulping it down. Bombur chuckled at him as he placed a cup of tea in front of Bella along with a little bowl of sugar.
“I like your new tattoos, Dwalin,” Bella remarked as she stirred two teaspoons sugar into the blackberry brew, because he did have new inkings, the names of each member of the Company printed down his biceps in Khuzdûl.
“Thanks,” Dwalin grunted out, “Although they’re not done yet. I’m getting’ them outlined in blue and silver.”
The colors of Erebor would be fitting, Bella acknowledged, to denote those that retook the kingdom from Smaug.
“Fee and I got inkings too,” Kíli revealed, “On our backs.”
“You did what?” Thorin spoke up, with wide eyes.
“Um…”
Thorin huffed, “Your mother is going to kill me.”
Balin patted the King on the shoulder, “Well, at least it will be relatively quick and painless, with Dís.”
Thorin shot him an aggrieved look.
“What kind of inkings did you get?” Bella asked Fíli in a whisper.
“Two ravens guarding a rose,” Fíli disclosed to her, “We got them done a few days after we learned that you were alive.”
Bella blinked back tears and smiled at him.
Breakfast was a far merrier affair than dinner the night previous had been and Bella was a bit sad when it came to an end and everyone splintered off to get ready for the day. She had found that she liked all her brothers in one place and had to content herself with knowing that they’d all be together again come evening.
Bella dressed in the only other set of clothes that she’d brought with her, a long-sleeved grey tunic over red leggings. The edges were fraying in places from constant use, much like the similar outfit she’d worn the day before. Her mithril coat she wore under her tunic while Sting and a small money pouch were strapped around her waist. Fíli and Kíli entered her bedroom as she was fastening a small dagger around each forearm, her sleeves pushed up to accomplish this.
Fíli just raised an eyebrow at the sight but Kíli spoke up, “Planning on knifing somebody, Bél? We don’t mind of course, but you should probably let us know ahead of time so that we can make sure you have an alibi.”
Bella rolled her eyes at him, “They’re just a precaution, Nadad. These daggers saved my life and I don’t like going without them.”
“The holsters look elven-made,” Fíli noted.
“They were,” Bella replied, “I shattered the knives I brought from the Shire during the Battle. They really weren’t made for war. These were a gift from Lord Elrond, given to me before I set out from Lothlórien and they’ll never go dull or break, much like Sting. The daggers immediately return to their holsters once their target is dead.”
“We owe the Lord Elrond our gratitude then,” Fíli said as Bella pulled her sleeves down to cover the daggers, “Are you wearing your mithril coat?”
“Yes,” Bella confirmed.
“Let’s take a look at your tapestry ideas,” Kíli bounced in place, “How many have you come up with?”
“Seven,” Bella answered, pulling a stack of carefully folded papers out of pack, “I had a lot of free time while waiting for my ankle to heal enough to walk on.”
Fíli and Kíli opened them up and spread them out across her freshly-made bed. There was a depiction of the Lonely Mountain as Bella imagined it would look once the land had finally healed from Smaug’s desolation, majestic and beautiful, with its base covered in the White Mountain blossoms that symbolized rebirth and renewal. Next was a picture of the Stone Trolls awash in the light of dawn.
Another picture showed the Eagles of Manwë flying away from the Carrock as the Company gazed upon Erebor in the distance. Then there was the Company traveling down the river to Laketown in barrels as orcs and elves chased after them. The fifth displayed the Secret Door into Erebor as the last light of Durin’s Day hit it and the sixth exhibited the treasury, with Smaug dozing upon the giant piles of gold.
Finally, there was the scene that depicted the whole of the Company battling Smaug in the Gallery of the Kings, the floor a pool of liquid gold and more gold dripping off the dragon at just the moment that the arrow Kíli loosed pierced Smaug’s heart.
“They’re all beautiful, but I think, this one,” Fíli pointed at the last, “You should do this one.”
“Fee,” Kíli murmured in protest.
“I agree,” Bella replied.
“How long will it take you?” Fíli questioned.
“About a month,” Bella told him, “If I work on it a little bit each night.”
“It takes Men much longer to weave,” Kíli said, “Months and months.”
Bella shrugged, “Hobbit.”
“Let’s get down to Dale,” Fíli instructed, “I’m sure that Tauriel’s patience is running thin.”
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Bella had not even entered Dale proper before she found herself scooped up into a tight embrace, Tauriel’s lean arms holding her close to the elf’s willowy body.
“Ai seler', laita i' Valar,” Tauriel whispered, “I have been so worried about you.”
Tauriel pulled back a bit so that she could examine Bella, which also allowed Bella to take in Tauriel as well. The elf looked no different than she had the last time that Bella had seen her. Well, less covered in the blood of orcs and goblins, she supposed.
“I’m sorry, seler',” Bella sighed, “I’m afraid that there was a rather unpleasant misunderstanding that prompted my departure.”
“Tell me,” Tauriel ordered.
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“I like Dáin less and less with each passing day,” Tauriel announced as Sigrid passed over to her a small glass of wine.
“That sentiment is widely shared,” Kíli muttered, taking a large gulp of his own wine.
The group had migrated to Bard’s home, so that Bella could tell Tauriel about what Dáin had done, where they had immediately come across Sigrid, Bain, and little Tilda. The younger two had grown taller during the past year, Bain was almost his father’s height now, but the only change to be found in Sigrid’s appearance was that she now usually wore her long blonde hair mostly down, with a part of it braided around her head like a golden crown. That, and all three of Bard’s children now wore much nicer clothing, for all that the garb was still incredibly modest by dwarven standards.
“Here you go, Fíli,” Sigrid gave Kee’s older brother a glass, blushing as she did.
Fíli blushed back, “Thank you, Sigrid.”
Fíli had it bad for Bard’s eldest, Kíli realized, and for the first time he considered that Sigrid had changed her hairstyle not to emulate Tauriel, who always wore her red-gold hair down with small sections of it braided back, but for Fíli’s benefit. Kíli really needed to start paying more attention to things.
“He’s not very nice,” Tilda chimed in then, “The last time he was here, he glared at everyone, including Da.”
“Keep an eye on him,” Bain cautioned, “He kept looking at your uncle in a way that gave me chills.”
“The sooner that Amad gets here with our people, the better,” Fíli said, “I don’t think that it would take much to push Dáin into trying to hurt Thorin; it’s become very clear in the past few months that Dáin’s gold-sick. Thank Mahal for Nori, he’ll be able to sniff out an assassination attempt a mile away.”
“Speaking of your uncle,” Tauriel turned to Kíli, “He came to see me a few days ago, on the night of the summit, Nûlukhuh.”
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Kíli burst into his uncle’s bedroom without bothering to knock, making the dwarf within start in surprise.
“You went to speak to Tauriel,” Kíli said without preamble.
Kíli, Fíli, and Bél had spent several more hours in Dale with Tauriel and Bard’s children. They’d all enjoyed showing Bella around the healing city of Men and helping her find the best weaving threads that its markets had to offer. Going to see Tauriel had been a wise choice, because Kíli’s Heart had known to ask questions of Bél that the Company had not. Kíli doubted that Bél would have ever spoken of her near death at the hands of the creature Gollum, thank Mahal she had managed to escape from the Spider he’d led her to, otherwise. She also probably wouldn’t have told anyone that the poisonous fumes of Mount Doom had nearly killed her, would have if Gandalf had not gotten her to the elven healers in Gondor in time, if Tauriel hadn’t insisted on scanning her core.
Since she’d left her elven one in Erebor, Fíli had immediately went and purchased a thick white fur cloak for her to wear, to keep the cool autumn air from hurting Bél’s still healing lungs. Kíli had wrapped a green scarf around her neck and Tauriel had forced her to don a pair of red mittens. Tilda had decided to help out too and pressed a bright pink knitted hat atop Bél’s head. Kíli’s sister had insisted that they were all being ridiculous, but had eventually given up protesting in favor of being distracted by the wares being sold around her. She hadn’t shivered once after, and it worried Kíli, the thought that she had not even noticed that she was so cold. If the Ring had been before him, he would have broken it apart with his bare hands.
They’d had a grand morning, lunch, and early afternoon together, but from the moment that Tauriel had spoken of his uncle visiting her, Kíli had been itching to confront Thorin and demand an explanation that made sense.
“I did,” Thorin blinked at him, as if not sure that Kíli were really there or if he was replying to an apparition of some kind.
“You told her that you’re constructing rooms for her,” Kíli frowned, “In the Royal Wing.”
“Well she certainly can’t move into your room, Kíli,” Thorin pointed out, “It would be entirely inappropriate. Whether or not she actually sleeps in those rooms is your own business, of course, but, for the love of Mahal, please don’t get her pregnant until after the wedding.”
“You’d be okay with that?” Kíli asked in amazement.
Thorin made a pained face, “Kíli, I changed your diapers, I really don’t want to think about you having sex.”
“I don’t mean… I meant… you wouldn’t be angry if Tauriel and I had a child together?” Kíli explained, then hastily added, “Someday. Far in the future. She’s not pregnant.”
Thorin looked confused now, “Why would I be angry about that?”
“Because she’s an elf and I’m dwarf.”
“Kíli,” Thorin’s voice was soft, “I would love any child of yours, even if it were part Orc. If Tauriel blesses you with a child, I swear that he or she will be cherished and adored all of their life.”
“You’re really okay with me marrying her,” Kíli realized, and a piece of him that had been anxious for months settled.
“Tauriel is everything I ever hoped you would find, my sister-son,” Thorin said, “Someone who loves you with their whole heart and who would do anything in your defense. I’m going to be proud to call her my niece one day. I hope that your brother finds someone just as worthy.”
There was a good chance that Fíli already had, Kíli considered, as the memory of his brother and Sigrid stammering almost constantly in each other’s presence came to mind. Once the two of them got their act together, Kíli was going to enjoy teasing his big brother about his unnatural shyness quite a bit.
“I want to marry her outside,” Kíli announced, “At night, under a full moon and the stars.”
“That’s an unusual place for a wedding ceremony to be held,” Thorin said, “But one that, I confess, will suit the pair of you quite well. It’s customary for you to craft her wedding jewelry.”
“Yes,” Kíli agreed slowly, unsure of his uncle’s reason for bringing the topic up, “But I haven’t found any materials that I want to use yet. Nothing’s been quite right.”
“I have something that I’ve been meaning to give to you,” Thorin revealed, “That I think will meet your standards, especially since you wish to marry her at night.”
Thorin walked over to his armoire and opened it, pulling out a small iron-wrought chest that he handed to Kíli, along with a silver key. Kíli set the heavy box on Thorin’s writing desk and unlocked it. The contents took him aback.
An ingot of Mithril and three dozen of the White Gems of Lasgalen, which shone with pure starlight.
“I thought it fitting for Erebor’s new princess to possess jewelry fashioned from the most precious metal of the dwarves and the most beloved gems of the elves,” Thorin said, a bit hesitantly.
“I though that these gems were returned to Thranduil,” Kíli murmured.
“Most of them were,” Thorin illuminated, “But not all. If Thranduil takes issue with his niece wearing them, then he can take it up with me.”
“Thank you, Uncle,” Kíli said gratefully, “These are perfect for her.”
Thorin nodded, “You’re welcome.”
Kíli then dared to ask another question, one that had been burning inside him, “Do you love Bél?”
Thorin stiffened, “Kíli-”
“Do. You. Love. Her,” Kíli demanded to know.
Thorin almost seemed to wilt, “Yes, yes, of course, I do. But it doesn’t matter. Not anymore.”
“Why?”
“Because even if she granted me her forgiveness, I would always know that I did not deserve it.”
“Shouldn’t that be her decision to make?” Kíli retorted, because Fee was right, none of them had the right to make her choices for her.
“I can’t ask that of her, Kíli,” Thorin said tiredly, “That she lives, and is safe and happy with her kin, is enough for me. I deserve nothing more. I received a letter from your mother today. After she cursed my name for four long paragraphs, she mentioned that she and the caravan she’s leading will arrive a fortnight before Durin’s day.”
“That’s sooner than expected,” Kíli remarked, allowing the abrupt subject change.
“The Rangers that are now leading them are highly skilled,” Thorin stated, “As pleased as I am to speak with you, Kíli, I have to go now, I’m already late for a meeting with Glóin.”
Kíli nodded, but called out before Thorin left, “Uncle? Don’t give up on her, alright? And, don’t give up on yourself either.”
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“By the Valar,” Bella exclaimed on Monday afternoon as package after package was carried into her sitting room via a parade of dwarves, “What on earth did you ask the Tailors to make, Dori?”
“A full fall and winter wardrobe,” Dori answered proudly, “Fourteen everyday outfits, twelve dinner dresses, two autumn cloaks, three winter coats, and boots to match everything. The Tailors collaborated with the Leatherworker’s Guild to make those. Your festival gowns aren’t quite finished yet, as we’re all sincerely hoping that you’ll put a bit of weight back on before Durin’s Day.”
“There’s a festival on Durin’s Day?” Bella asked.
“Oh, yes, a rather grand one,” Dori replied, “And the day after that is the Day of Dragon’s Reckoning, and there shall be another great party for that. There is to be a memorial on the twenty-fifth of October, for all those slain in the Battle, and then the Festival of the Tri-Alliance, a four day fête with tournaments and feasts to celebrate the tethers between the dwarves, men, and elves that were born of fighting side by side.”
“October will be a busy month for everyone,” Bella commented, “With so many things going on.”
“Yes, indeed,” Dori was examining the tags on the brown paper packages until he found the one he was looking for, “Aha, here it is, you should wear this dress tonight. You’ll be the best-dressed lady in the Mountain.”
“There are only five females in the Mountain right now,” Bella pointed out, “And two of them won’t even be at dinner.”
Arnura and Arníra were on tasked with guarding the Royal Wing tonight (every night really, until more dwarves from the Blue Mountains arrived), which was a bit disappointing, because Bella had found that she enjoyed their company. She’d invited them in to have tea with her the evening before and had discovered that they were quite sweet and clever and very loyal to Dwalin, who had apparently saved their lives a few years back.
The other two dwarrowdams Bella had not yet gotten the chance to meet as they were the wives of two of Dáin’s advisors. Bella had only met a handful of the dwarves from the Iron Hills, but they all seemed terribly afraid of her for some odd reason. Not that Bella had met many dwarves at all, since her brothers seemed to be conspiring to keep her away from all places in the Mountain that would be densely populated. She’d seen the Great Library, and had immediately understood why Ori basically lived there, Erebor’s Kitchens, before any of the other chefs save Bombur had arrived, and the beautiful Crystal Caverns, where there grew hundreds of thousands of mushrooms of over a hundred varieties and also where the Eastern and Southern Drops, huge multi-tiered waterfalls, were located.
“The Ladies Huma and Bania shall be nothing compared to you, dear,” Dori insisted, “And even when the kingdom is full of dwarrowdams you shall still be the most elegantly-clad of them all, even if these clothes do have a distressing lack of precious stones on them.”
Dori unwrapped the dress he had selected so that Bella could see it. It was a stunning display of rich, black silk that had hints of deep blue throughout it. It would touch the floor once Bella had it on and had three-quarter sleeves that were puffed at the top and a square neckline. It was also covered in sapphires, which made Bella wonder what, exactly, an appropriate amount of gems was in Dori’s estimation.
“It’s beautiful, Dori. How long do I have before dinner starts?” Bella wondered, “I’m afraid that it’ll be awhile before I can tell the time inside the Mountain with ease.”
“A few hours,” Nori answered, beating Dori to the punch, from where he was leaning against one of Bella’s open doors, carrying with him yet another package, this one wrapped in dark gold paper, “Nice dress. I’ve come to deliver your new nightgowns from Esgaroth. They were made by the same man who made the one that you liked so much when we first stayed in Laketown.”
Bella had liked the grey and green nightgown very much. It had been made of soft wool and lace and had been remarkably warm. Which had been very nice, as Esgaroth had been so very cold, even in September. The nightgown had not survived her trip to Mordor, unfortunately, and the night shift and robe that had been provided for Bella in Gondor were lovely, but really had not been designed for the cooler temperatures found farther north.
“Ori’s making matching dressing gowns,” Nori said, “To appease your Hobbity sensibilities.”
Bella mock-glared at him. It had been a source of amusement for all the dwarves on the Quest, her propriety and refusal to wander around in just her nightdress. She hadn’t been able to look any of them in the eye for days after the first time they went shirtless in her presence. She’d become accustomed to their occasional preference for partial, or complete, nudity, and didn’t mind foregoing her dressing gown on occasion, but only one person, save her parents, had seen her undressed and she was keeping it that way.
“I’m sure that they’ll be wonderful,” Bella said, because Ori’s skill with a needle truly was impressive and if he hadn’t loved books so deeply, he’d have made a fine tailor.
Nori stayed to help Bella and Dori unpack her new clothing, a plethora of silks and velvets and muslins that looked both beautiful and comfortable. Bella couldn’t wait to wear her new waistcoats. As they finished sorting her wardrobe, Bella asked a question that she had mulling over for a few days, “By the way, I was wondering, can dwarrowdams get tattoos?”
“Sure,” Nori shrugged, “There’s no gender separation when it comes to inkings. The Lady Dís has some pretty impressive ones, I’ve heard, more than her older brother even. Why, did you want one?”
Bella nodded, “Only, I don’t know how to go about getting one.”
“It’ll be painful,” Dori warned immediately, “No matter where you get it.”
“I imagine so,” Bella replied, “But I want one anyway.”
“If this is because you think that you’ll be more accepted amongst the other dwarves in the Mountain if you get one-”
“It’s not,” Bella assured Dori, “I promise. It’s just… it’s important to me.”
“Óin can do it,” Nori told her, “He did Dwalin’s. It’s not something he normally spends his time doing, but he’s good at it, and I think that you’d be happier if he was the one to do it rather than someone you don’t know.”
Bella was inclined to agree with him, “I’ll talk to him tonight at dinner.”
A knock sounded and the three turned to see Arníra in the doorway holding what Bella recognized now as a jewelry box. Most dwarrows preferred gilded chests set with gemstones, but Fíli and Kíli knew that Bella favored the wooden ones that Bofur or Bifur carved for her.
“Pardon me, Milady, My Lords,” Arníra greeted, “But His Highness requested that I deliver this as he is currently unable to.”
“Thank you, Arníra,” Bella accepted the box, “Tell your sister ‘hello’ for me, please.”
“I will, Milady,” Arníra curtsied, a bit clumsily as she was unused to the action, “Have a good evening.”
Bella opened the box and carefully removed the adornments within. A string of square-cut sapphires on a golden chain, several golden cords with small sapphire clasps on the end that Bella supposed were meant to be woven into braids, and a matching tiara.
“I though that the mines weren’t really open yet,” Bella commented, “Where are they getting the metal and gems to make these?”
“From their shares of the treasure, I’d reckon,” Nori answered.
“They don’t need to be wasting it on me,” Bella frowned, “They-”
“They’re not wasting it,” Nori insisted firmly, “Besides, a few baubles like these are hardly going to put a dent in their shares. You saw the obscene amount of wealth in the Treasury.”
Bella pursed her lips but didn’t argue.
“Since we have time, do you want me to show you how to pickpocket dwarves from the Iron Hills?” Nori offered.
Dori whirled on him in protest, “Nori!”
“Yes,” Bella accepted, “It could come in handy someday.”
Dori threw his hands up in the air muttering about the corrupting influence of his little brother.
Nori cackled in delight, “Come on then, Namad.”
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Bella was sure that the food on her plate tasted amazing. It had been prepared by Bombur, after all. But the stares she was receiving from pretty much everyone in the Great Dining Hall made it hard to concentrate on the flavors present in her lamb cutlets and roasted potatoes.
There were whispers too, and the dwarves they emanated from were not nearly as quiet as they believed. Or perhaps they just didn’t care to keep their voices low; subtlety was often wasted on Mahal’s children, Bella knew. Either way, Bella’s grip on her platinum and opal fork was growing tighter by the minute. And then Kíli flicked a chunk of potato at his brother’s head, hitting Fíli squarely in the nose.
Fíli’s eyes narrowed, “You are so gonna regret that, Nadadith.”
And then Fee sent a roll of pumpernickel bread flying toward Kee, only for Erebor’s youngest prince to dodge at the last second, causing the thick hunk of bread to smack into the dwarrow sitting at the table opposite.
It became sheer, utter chaos after that.
Food was thrown in every direction from every direction. It would have horrified Bella, if she were not already very accustomed to this particular aspect of dwarven culture. Rivendell had proven to her that her dwarves, despite her belief at the time, really had been on their best behavior when they invaded her smial. Still, it seemed like a great waste of food.
Dwalin pulled Bella behind his hulking frame and got hit in the chest by a tomato for his trouble. The warrior immediately grabbed an entire platter of miniature meat pies and proceeded to send them hurtling every which way.
Bella sighed, grabbed her plate, and crawled under the table, letting the golden cloth that covered it obscure her presence and block any food from knocking into her. Fíli and Kíli joined her a moment later, proudly wearing self-satisfied smirks on their faces.
“You planned this,” Bella accused without heat.
“We had to,” Kíli said unapologetically, “If you gripped your silverware any tighter it would have snapped, which is quite a feat when it comes to dwarven-made anything, Bél.”
“I don’t imagine that the cooks will be very pleased with you,” Bella remarked, taking a bite of her, rather delicious she now realized, dinner.
“There’s a food fight at least once a week,” Fíli shrugged, “It helps keep morale up.”
Bella laughed without reserve. It felt strange, out of place, and it took a moment to realize why. When was the last time she had expressed her amusement so freely? Before the Battle, before the gold-sickness took the minds of those she loved.
“I’m glad that someone finds this entertaining,” Thorin said, having apparently joined them in avoiding the fray without them realizing it. His clothing was sporting numerous stains and there were pieces of carrots in his hair, but he was smiling fondly at his nephews, “I hope that you enjoy cleaning up as much as you enjoyed starting all of this, my sister-sons.”
Despite the vegetation dangling off of his person, he looked so much like the Thorin who had held her tenderly in his arms as he pressed gentle kisses to every inch of her body that it made Bella want to weep. She loved him so much that it hurt to look at him, knowing that he would never gaze so affectionately at her again.
Fíli and Kíli just grinned at him.
Translations
- Ai seler', laita i' Valar – Little sister, praise the Valar
- Nûlukhuh- My Moon