Chapter Text
Being beautiful and low-class is not for the faint of heart. At least in Ered Luin, everyone other than the royals was dirt poor, and that was really only by comparison. Having a title changed some things, but not enough. Now he was rich enough to dress like them and titled enough to shag in the daylight, but he wasn't a pedigree pup. He didn’t act like them.
Nori leaned against the wall in the shadow of the room, his hand on the spinning gem embedded into the pommel of the dagger at his hip. He attended most meetings in the sense that he was in the room when they happened. Dull affairs and often aggravating ones, as lords with slippery eyes wandered the length of him.
It wasn’t all bad. He had learned the best places to stand, where he still had an eye and ear on the situation but was out of anyone's immediate line of sight. It meant his view was usually very pleasant.
Dwalin stood beside Thorin as still as a statue with an expression that could frighten words off a page and arms the size of most people's thighs. They were past their youthful cat-and-mouse days, but age didn't touch the sturdy muscle under his tunic. If anything, he was bigger than he was back then.
“We don’t have enough people for that, Your Majesty!” A stone smith shook his head and scribbled something on the gridded planning map in front of him.
“Do we not have the stone smiths from the Iron Hills?” Thorin questioned.
“Aye, we do, but it’s not skilled labor we’re needing, it’s hands. Not enough people have made the journey.” The dwarf pulled a map over to him to articulate his next point. “They’ve been settled in those old mountains of yours for too long. It’ll take more than a couple of years to pick up and go, and when they do, it’s slow-moving.”
“We need people who can be here by the end of the year,” Thorin said, resigned.
“That we do, and the Iron Hills have given all they can give in dwarven hands.” The dwarf pointed at the Iron Hills on the map to make his point, then shook his head.
Nori spun the gem on his dagger faster and faster as the king and stonesmith spoke. An agitating energy that made him dance where he stood. There was a simple solution to this! He waited patiently for someone to say it, but the topic began to turn to other things.
“Dwarves traveling solo or in small groups can make time quickly.” Nori was half-horrified to hear his own voice, but kept his air of nonchalance. The room turned to him, some faces in curiosity and some in confusion. Not wanting to risk looking any of them in the eye, he looked at Dwalin, then corrected himself to look at Thorin.
“Not if they’re not willing to leave their homes without half their belongings.” The stone smith huffed.
“The merchants and craftsman yes, but you need hands, not skilled labor. Tell the scrap halls and petty laborers that there’s a bit of coin waiting for em if they come over quick, and you’ll have them scrambling over the Mistys!” Nori ended it in a laugh, but it wasn’t a joke. The poorest in Ered Luin would do almost anything for coin or the promise of a place to rest their head at the end of the day.
Thorin made an interested face and gestured to the stonesmith. There was too much silence directed at him. Nori wished he could crawl back into the shadows, but it was too late now. He could feel eyes on him, hyperaware that even his accent was ill-suited for the current company.
Stubborn as a mule, he met their stares. Or he intended to, but his eyes got caught up on the satisfied smirk Dwalin was giving him. He really was quite charming when he smiled. It made his mustache hairs peek up in an awkward, silly way. Not nearly as silly as the few times he had seen him fully smile. All teeth, and very lopsided.
“You can't be entertaining this, Your Majesty!” A merchant noble slapped his hand on the table like he had heard a good joke. The mirth in his eyes died as he saw that Thorin seemed to be genuinely considering his words. “You’re talking about vagrants and criminals!”
The hair on the back of Nori's neck rose up. “They’re people hard on their luck, but they ain't just criminals. They’ll do honest work for honest coin,” Nori said, sticking out his chest.
“Or they’ll fill the jail cells and drain our resources. It’s not a risk we can afford!” Another dwarf pitched in, waving his hand at Nori like he was waving away smoke. The rest of the dwarves seemed to take that as the end of it and dismissed him easily.
“These are my people, I know what they’re capable of!” Nori tensed, nostrils flaring and fingers itching to not be idle. If there was something he hated more than being leered at, it was blatantly ignored. He slipped the dagger from his belt just enough to see the shine of the blade gleaming against the glow of the lanterns, drawing everyone's attention back to him. The shadow of a broad figure came up behind him, and he could feel Dwalin's heat radiating at his back.
A few members of the council smirked, their eyebrows shooting up into their hairlines.
“Remind me, Nori, but what was your profession in Ered Luin?” The merchant asked innocently.
“My brother was a tailor…I helped.” Nori said through gritted teeth, his hand tightening on the dagger, prompting another step from Dwalin.
“I’m sure our esteemed guard captain can attest to your skills being put to other uses.” Nori didn’t like the twinkle in his eye or the way he lilted the end of his sentence. “The famed beauty, the shadow of Ered Luin. You were the scourge of many merchants.”
“What’s your point?” His old epithet left a sour taste in his mouth. ‘Famed beauty,’ He had already earned the title ‘the Shadow of Ered Luin’ when that name was tacked on. He had bungled an attempt at stealing from an auction. As a result, he was dragged across the auction stage, where he got to hear far too many dwarves ask what his price was as auction coins of various worth were tossed at his feet. It had been his last heist before he went on the quest to clear his name.
“My point is that if you’re claiming these people as yours, then you do a fine job of proving my point.” The merchant smiled and turned back to Thorin. “It’s not worth the risk.”
“I’d point out that Lord Nori never said they weren’t criminals.” He whipped around in shock as Dwalin continued. “He said honest work for coin. Keep 'em fed and watered, and you'll take away their reason to pilfer. Worked for him.”
“I think that even His Majesty will agree that Nori is a special case, not the norm. It’s easy to trust a pretty face like that and give it a second chance, but starting the mountain off on the right foot means not inviting trouble from the start,” The merchant replied. The nods of many heads in agreement soured the lightness in his heart that came from Dwalin's defense of him.
Anger blotted out his good sense. He didn’t even remember drawing his knife until it was embedded into the table between the merchants midde and ring finger. The dwarf reeled back from the table away from him, but he had no time to relish it as he, too, was getting pulled back, not so gently.
Dwalin dragged him out of the room and didn't let go until they crossed through the double doors. They closed with a snap that echoed through the empty hall. Dwalin stood there for a moment, both hands on the doors, head hung.
“Rat bastards,” Nori whispered under his breath, smoothing out his tunic.
“Aye bastards,” Dwalin exhaled hard through his nose like an angry bear, growling through his frustration and turning around to face him. “But you nearly put steel through a lord’s hand in the middle of a negotiation! What were you thinking?”
“Not much of a negotiation if they’re going to dismiss obvious solutions.” Nori’s fingers shook slightly. He hid them under his sleeves. “I missed on purpose…barely.”
“And if you hadn't?” Dwalin barked, looking genuinely upset. “Are you looking to prove them right?”
“What does that matter? They're going to see what they want to see!” Nori hadn't realized he raised his voice until Dwalin's hand was covering his mouth. He was dragged away again, further down the hall and away from the doors until Thorin's powerful voice could no longer be heard.
“I'm no fan of nicities but I know when to hold my tongue and my arm. They talk for sport. You know how nobles can be.” Dwalin had yet to let go of him, so he pulled out of his grasp.
“Do I? I've been a lord for less than a year. They didn't even show me enough notice to call me one! I know what’s in their pockets and on their fancy plates, not what's in their heads.” Nori felt the rage die down, but it left a cold feeling of embarrassment in its wake.
Lord… What a joke. Dori might have had grand ideas about what retaking the mountain would mean for them. For a tailor and weaver like him, he was right, but Nori had no real trade and the loose ends of an education. What was a failed tinkerer, turned bartender, turned thief, supposed to do with a lordship?
It was as if they saw right through him. All he could hear when he looked at them was the sound of wealthy laughs and the scratch of beards on his neck as he was pulled into a lap that he played nice on for a tip. Oh, he knew how nobles could be…why resort to stroking a cock when stoking their ego was easier and far more lucrative.
He wondered what Dwalin saw when he looked at his blundering attempts to act the part he was so far removed from. A duck with boots on. Dwalin was a noble so high on the ladder that he could be bad at it and get away with it. It was charming when he did it.
He was being stared at now. Dwalin lingered like a rugged shadow, but Nori never minded his gaze. It never felt uncomfortable. He swept the hair that had fallen out of his braid back and met the guard captain's eyes.
“I do know nobles. They’ll forget all of this by lunch.” Dwalin’s voice was heavy but not angry. His eyes strayed from his face to the strands of hair he knew he must have missed.
“I’ll take your word for it.” Nori looked away, half smiling as he reached for his knife. Dwalin held it out of his reach. He went to grab it again, stopping short of bumping into his broad chest by virtue of his reflexes.
“I still have to take it until this blows over.” Dwalin tucked his dagger into his belt along with his own.
“You don't have to do anything.” Nori made a pass for it and found himself pressed to Dwalin's chest, his arm pinned, his fingers just barely able to spin the bead on the pommel. “You ain't serious!”
“Would ye rather I detain you? Because that's what I'm supposed to be doing.” Dwalin quipped, the furrows in his brow making the scars along his nose crease. He was holding him like it meant nothing, and unfortunately, while he was not graced with the strength of his brothers, he was far more slippery.
Nori jammed his finger into the ribs at Dwalin's back and used his hiss of pain to pull the knife from his belt. He dropped it almost immediately as he was seized by the wrist and pinned to the nearest pillar. He braced himself for the back of his head to hit it, but landed on a hand instead.
Dwalin was not so much pinning his wrist as he was pinning his hand. It was as threaded into his own as well as it could be on a flat surface, covering his entire hand except for the points of his longer fingers.
“Youre not making a good argument for me giving it back," Dwalin said matter-of-factly. Nori looked up at his face. The tufts of his beard were trimmed neater than they were on the quest, eyes shining with amusement. It was warm, a comforting shade of brown that he was not accustomed to seeing. He looked for something more in it. Something treacherous. There was nothing, and that angered him.
A quick glance at his dagger on the floor sank his heart. The gem cracked into pieces scattered along the floor. It was a cheap thing. The nicest he could afford in Ered Luin. He could buy a thousand better now. It mirrored how he felt. A shattered pretty thing. The illusion of quality without any of the real, tangible qualities that made it such.
Dwalin's hand flexed, still keeping him in place with that easy strength. The closeness of their bodies was becoming unbearable. He wanted it to continue. He wants it to stop. He wanted it to be intentional and not the result of a decades-long game with no clear start or finish.
With a great shove, Nori pushed Dwalin off of him, staggering forward a few steps from the force he had to use to do it. He suspected that had the captain not been willing to move, he wouldn't have had a chance regardless. Instead, the brute cupped his elbow with his hand to steady him. The crunch of more of the gem underneath his boot made Dwalin look down.
Nori opened his mouth to say something smart, but faltered when he heard the door to the council chamber open down the hall.
“Keep it,” He said, already walking away.
He put on a very good show of not caring about it for the rest of the week. It was made slightly easier by the fact that he didn't see much of Dwalin at all. Thorin was spending most of his time with Bilbo, and the consort's security detail was enough to cover them both.
Old habits die hard, however, and after going through days of reaching for his belt and not finding what he wanted, he found himself on the path to the main markets. About half of the Iron Hills merchants set up shops, and many humans were permitted to sell food and fabrics in the mountain while Dale was still being rebuilt.
He was looking for exits before he had seen his first stall, belatedly remembering that he had enough money to buy everything in the market twice.
Thorin had offered each of them a lord's estate, but he had agreed with his brothers that it would feel too odd to live apart from them. Still, his one room in his estate was bigger than any house he had ever lived in. He had bought himself a very nice bed and a few shelves for his trinkets that had yet to arrive from the Blue Mountains. Dori had bought him his wardrobe, and Ori had bought him a very nice desk that he was sure he'd use one day. He had not bought anything else for himself. Not for lack of trying.
Spending money was an odd thing. It felt wrong unless he was spending it on food or something practical. Every trinket he ever had was made by someone else or by his own hand from scraps. Occasionally stolen. He hadn't even bothered coming to the markets. Not these ones anyway. He had gone to the food markets, but he was too concerned someone would recognize him here.
That seemed a bit silly now, too. What were they going to do? Call the guards? ‘Sir, this incredibly wealthy Lord is loitering around my shop!’ He laughed at himself and pushed past the entrance crowd to look at the goods at one of the nearby tables. It should have come as a surprise just how many shops sold daggers. The Iron Hills had an abundance of the materials necessary to make good steel.
Nori walked right up to the stall, hesitating as he looked over the options. The pommels were less ornate than the ones he was used to. Simple designs with very few embellishments. Was he allowed to touch them? He looked over his shoulder and saw the guards looking out over the area. There were a dozen blind spots. Given who he was now, he should endeavor to fix that gap in things.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw two small feet scramble under a stall. Then again, there was a system to it all. It benefited some even if it hurt others. The stall in question was selling honey, soaps, and beeswax candles. It was the most patronized stall in this part of the market run by a human woman. When she looked away, a small hand came up from under the table and snatched a candle.
Hoping the little thief would be happy with their spoils and run, Nori watched from the corner of his eye while pretending to read the product listing. A few moments passed, and the same hand crept up this time, finding a jar. They had had a firm grasp on the jar until the woman running the stall let out a high-pitched laugh, startling the little hand.
CRASH!
The jar hit the floor, sending its sticky contents everywhere. The woman yelped and walked around the side to see what had happened. The shopkeep laughed out something about broken jars being occupational hazards and began lifting the cloth covering the stall. She was moments from discovering who was hiding beneath it. He should let the pebble get caught and learn a nice, hard lesson, but…
“Sorry bout that! I wasn’t watching my feet.” Nori bent down to pick up the jar, and his eyes met the frightened little ones. “Meet me at the fountain.”
“What was that, sir?” The woman asked.
“Just cursing my clumsiness,” Nori said, standing. “I’ll pay fer it and a few more if you’ll spare um. I’ll pick up a few candles, and a soap too if it ain’t trouble.” When the woman turned around to grab what he asked for, he lightly kicked under the table hopping the little bug would get his meaning.
He overpaid to make up for whatever else might have been taken and found the culprit sitting where he had sent them, dangling their feet in the water and worrying a braided candle between their hands.
“That was a foolish thing to do,” Nori said, startling them to their feet. It was a little girl with her hair braided into a bun. Wisps of a beard barely scratched her chin.
“Are you set to turn me into the guards, sir?” She stammered, caught between fleeing and standing. The poor thing was shaking like a leaf. He was surprised to hear his own slum's Blue Mountain accent reflected in her voice.
“I would have just let you get caught if I wanted that. That was bad form, and I’ll have the reason you decided to take such a risk before I have to take you to your amad or adad. Did someone put you up to it?”
“No! I…The candles are…” The reasons for stealing always seem ridiculous when spoken aloud. The shame follows the action, and the admission is swallowed in desperation. She was too young to have learned how to bury those emotions, and an unwitting sign of relief left him as he recognised this for what it was. She just wanted a pretty thing or something to help out.
“You’d have gotten more than a cuff on the ear, lass. Soldiers don't much care how small you are when you’re fighting them and running off with things.” Nori pinched the bridge of his nose. “What’s your name and where's your amad and adad?
“I’m Egi, and my amad is a blacksmith! Adad is still in Ered Luin.” Egi recited, looking cowed.
“Alright, lass, take me to yer mum.” Nori followed her through the mountain until she had led him to one of the deeper halls. The channels had not been fixed, and the air quality was rough. It was not much more than irritating to a dwarf. Other races were barred from the blacksmith halls until the ventilation could be fixed.
The lass went straight for the forges until the sound of hammer on anvil could be heard. She stopped and worried her lip, moving to stand behind his legs.
“She’s gonna be awfully mad,” Egi whispered as if her mum would hear her from so far away. Nori put the bag of goods he had bought down and picked the lass up again, only to immediately set her on her feet in front of him.
“You should have thought about that before you swiped something. Doing something like that means accepting the risk. Consequences are always the hard part.” He mumbled to himself he pushed her slightly to get her walking. “Just keep your chin up and make sure she knows yer sorry. ”
The dam working was a short lass with a wide build and powerful arms. Her beard was long and currently braided to keep it out of the way of her work. It only had one or two charms in it. She seemed oblivious to them at first, but the moment Egi let out a loud, shaky breath, the hammer stopped, and she looked over.
“Egi, what are you doing here, girl!” The dam put her hammer down and pulled off her glove with her teeth. “Mahal, and you're filthy.”
“I'm sorry amad…” Egi looked at her feet.
He had lingered in the back, unmoving and silent. When she spotted him, she squared her shoulders but dropped them just as fast.
“Lord Nori!” She gave him a polite bow that he found incredibly uncomfortable. “Belgi at your service. I don't know what my lass has gone and done to ya, but I'm grateful you brought her home.” The grip on her daughter's shoulder was iron as she braced for an explanation. He waited to see if Egi would say something.
“I went to the markets to find you candles,” Egi said, chin tucked against her chest, mumbling her way through every word.
“Candles? Is this because I said…” she stopped and collected herself. “How did you intend to pay for candles exactly?”
“I think she had a non-traditional payment method in mind,” Nori insinuated and watched as comprehension turned to anger and then mortification.
“You did what! Oh, you idiot girl! You have no idea what-” He thought she might raise a hand to her, but she grabbed her to hold her instead, her hands shaking and her eyes doing some internal calculation he wasn't privy to.
She saw the bag of goods that sat by his feet and tensed. Pulling back from her daughter, she grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to sit on a crate.
“Sit here and put your hands on the crate. Do NOT move a muscle or say a word, do you understand?” Belgi didn't wait for an answer before she approached him, far less angrily, and led him out of earshot.
“My Lord, I'm so sorry. What did she take? I'll do what I can to pay it back. I get a stipend in a few days.” Belgi pulled a pouch of coins from her pocket. It didn't clink and they both knew it.
“I didn't realize they let anyone kip down here in the channels.” Nori let his accent relax and spiraled with the relief of how natural it felt to speak again. Some of these forges are age-old.”
“Few know how to work ‘em, save those who did the wandering.” Belgi relaxed her accent to match his. Her demeanor was still tense, but her expression softened. “The ones built in the gold halls are newer, and the ventilation is better, but they don't run as fast on simple material, and that's all we got at the moment. As far as a kip…it's cheap, basically nothing. I work down here, but she only spends her nights. She's supposed to be up there learning and finding ways to keep herself useful.” She shot a glance at Egi, who was still obediently sitting on the crate, hands glued to the wood.
“I heard the king still paid well for nail labor?” Nori thought it best to use the kindest term possible. The dam was having a hard enough day, then having a lord call her a horse shoer. Guildless blacksmiths, those who couldn't pay guild dues, got the raw jobs making endless rounds of nails, pickaxes, and hammer heads. Because they weren't part of a guild, they couldn't sell any wares in dwarven dwellings to anyone other than the crown. This led them to often resort to making horseshoes to sell to men.
“Aye, he does. Better than he’s obligated to, but we left everything in Ered Luin, and it takes coin to get on your feet again. I have debts and people to send coin home to,” Belgi explained.
Nori looked past her at the forge. There were at least three boxes of nails and rivets next to it, but among the clutter of the forge, he also saw other vibrant pieces. Spoons, kettles, hairpins, and simple locks. Labors of love. He recognized the kind of raw craftsmanship he had seen in his childhood as Dori turned scraps into clothing worth wearing.
“Can you fix knives?” Nori asked.
“I-I can but, My lord, I'm no blade smith, and you'd find better in almost any market. You're the best of your kind for speaking with me, but no need to soften the blow. Is that there what she tried to make off with?” Belgi pointed to the bag next to him.
“Yes, but it's paid for already. You can have everything in it, and I'll give you coin for decent materials if you promise to mend something for me.” Nori picked up the bag and put it by the crate next to Egi, ruffling her hair as he passed.
“My Lord, I can't! Selling to you would go against the law, and I can't risk my work,” Belgi said in exasperation. He walked over to her and pulled out his coin purse, dropping a few gold pieces into her hand
“You can sell to royalty, and I'm royalty…of sorts. I ain't asking you to stop doing the king's work just to be on retainer for me. If I need something, give it a little priority. You won't lose anything. I have the king's ear. Thorin will understand.” He hoped that by name-dropping the king, she would relax.
She stared at the gold pieces in her hand and slowly closes his fingers over them.
“Where's the dagger you need mending?” Belgi asked, swallowing any further objections.
Nori opened his mouth and gathered some of his beard in his hand awkwardly. “I'll have that to…morrow!” He was already starting to back away. “Don't give your amad any trouble!” He shouted to Egi as he retreated out of the hall.
What was the likelihood of Dwalin being at home right now? Probably incredibly small given the time of day. He was probably with Thorin or helping train recruits. Mahal forbid he might take any time to himself to have a pint or a smoke.
There were only two places he would hide his dagger: his home or the guard captain's office. Technically, the knife was part of a wrongdoing and taken as a punishment. He wasn't likely to take something like that home, which means it was tucked away in his office. It would have been a lot easier to sneak into his home. His other option was the guard captain's office, which was inside the barracks.
It was a good thing he wasn't an amateur.
He was grateful that his house was empty so he could change in peace. The wonderful thing about having a master tailor as a brother was his ability to get his clothing altered in whatever way he wished. Dori would occasionally question why he needed certain pockets and hideaways, but they had developed a ‘don't ask and you won't hear the answer that's going to make you mad’ mentality about it. He was no master with a needle himself, but over the years, he had learned enough to call himself proficient. He was sure Dori would be horrified to learn just how good needlepoint was for developing the dexterity one needs to pick locks.
He put on something comfortable that he could move in and dressed it up to fit a lord. If you look the part and walk with confidence, few people will deny you access. An outfit was meant to play to one strength, so if it meant showin' off a little more of his neck, well… it meant people would be looking at his hair draped over his shoulders and not what his hands were doing.
He let most of his hair stay down and braided the sides back so it wouldn't be in his face. He didn't need a knife, but in one of his hidden pockets, he stashed his thieves' tools.
He wasn't wearing anything flashy that should draw unnecessary attention, and yet, attention, he grabbed. He looked straight ahead, ignoring looks and comments whispered just loud enough for him to hear. His hands grew clammy as he approached the barracks. He was sure Dwalin wasn't inside, and maybe part of him wanted him to be. He hadn't seen him in days, but could still feel the strength of his grip on his arm after being pinned and the steady pressure of his broad chest.
It would be nice to see him out of that armor properly for the first time since the quest. Not that he looked too much on the quest. He was very focused on getting changed as quickly as possible. Force of habit.
The barracks was a large structure on the same level as the gate. There was technically another barracks on a lower level closer to the Royal Hall, but there were not enough soldiers to fill it yet. He focused his confidence with every step he took closer. He rolled his shoulders back and put a light smile on his face. By the time he got to the double doors. He didn't hesitate to walk through them. The one guard standing at the entrance took a second too long to stop him.
“W-wait, should you be here?” The guard yelled after him. Nori stopped and turned around, feigning confusion at why he was being addressed.
“Is there a reason why I shouldn't be? Is there some special training I wasn't aware of?” Nori asked, looking around to get an idea of how many others were here. Only a few other dwarves were outside of their rooms, likely coming back from shifts.
“Erm, no, my lord. I just wasn't told to expect anyone. Predictably, the guard's eyes wandered to his hair, lingering on the single mithril bead and his beard.
“I didn't announce myself before coming. I won't be long,” Nori smiled and kept walking.
“Should I tell the captain you were here?” the guard asked.
“I won't be here long enough for him to notice. I'll likely be seeing him afterwards anyway. I'll tell him you did a dutiful job!” Nori stopped long enough to watch the guard. Go back to his post and continued on his way. He had been around fancy folk for the better part of a year now, and he was getting better at making himself sound posh.
The inside of the building was far bigger than he thought it was. Empty bedrooms, storage closets, equipment rooms. Nothing seemed to lead him in the direction he needed to go. By the time he found out where he needed to go, Dwalin really was going to be back.
“Need help finding something?”
Nori jumped and turned to see an off-duty guard. He must live in the barracks because he was stripped of most of his regalia and in plain clothes. He was a big dwarf. Stocky and wide, a similar build to Dwalin If he was being honest with himself.
“I'm looking for the captain's office. Dwalin asked me to drop something off for him.” Nori patted an empty pocket, alluding to something important inside.
“It's on the other side if you'll let me take you there, my lord. Oris, by the way. At your service.” Oris held his arm out to him and pointed across the barracks. He hesitated but ultimately took it.
“Have you ever been to the barracks before?” Oris asked, glancing at him and rather unnaturally avoiding looking below his eyeline.
“Surprisingly, no, I haven't. I suppose I got caught up with other things,” Nori replied conversationally.
“Suppose it's not much to look at for someone used to nicer views. I thought the captain might have brought you down here already,” Oris said offhandedly.
“Why would he go and do that?” Nori pulled back, slowing their pace. The guard looked surprised.
“The captain talks about you frequently. Specifically, your fighting style. He says there's no one better at avoidance combat. Some of the newer recruits were hoping he would bring you in for a demonstration.” Oris smiled widely, reminding him a little of an excited pet. “ But I can see why he might have kept you away.”
“And why is that?” Nori asked, ready to be offended.
“Well, he never said anything about you being a looker. I wouldn't want to invite competition either.” Oris flexed, giving a rather impressive display of his muscles. Nori tried not to choke in surprise.
“I-well. I'm flattered, really. Think you might have gotten the wrong idea about who your Captain is courting.” Nori coughed and ran his hand through his beard, blushing. He didn't want to admit it, but the dwarf was rather cute. He breathes a thankful sigh when they stopped at a door with the shield of the guard Captain chiseled next to it.
“Well, if that’s the case and you’re ever looking for a sparing partner, you know where to find one.” Oris gave him a good-natured wink but didn’t linger. Nori slipped into the office and shut the door behind him. He could feel the heat of his cheeks as he looked down at his toes, trying to force away a smile. Dwalin, the brute, thought he was the best at something. Enough to tell his recruits about him. Not enough to invite you to show off any. He pushed the little voice in his head away and scanned the room.
It was sparse, with a half-wall partition splitting the space in half. Directly in front of him was a large desk with weapons of various kinds hung on the wall and a bench with shackles built into the floor off to the side. Through the half wall to the right, he saw several cabinets with drawers of various sizes. It was probably once a small library and rather cozy.
He started with the desk. Most of the drawers he opened had papers in them, and the one that didn't had rings and a small soft bag of what felt like beads. He picked up one of the rings and slipped it onto his finger. It would have been a prize steal back in the day. The thing didn’t even fit properly on his thumb and slipped off and back into the pile the moment he moved his hand.
His knife was not in any of the drawers, which meant he was going to have to search the cabinets. Both had large intimidating locks on them, the hinged kind with multiple levers inside instead of the usual lift lever and a spring to pop open the latch. He rolled his eyes at the security theatrics and didn't even bother taking out his tools. He pulled a heavy-looking short mace from its bracket and brought it down at an angle to pop it open. It was hard not to be a little self-satisfied.
The cabinets were labeled, each one with a handwriting that was almost certainly not Dwalin's. Not that it mattered much. He couldn't read them anyway. He had picked up a few words here and there, mostly fabrics and names of food, but he had never opened a book or scroll and read what was inside. He had tried once, but it just looked like scratches.
As quickly as he could, he started to pull drawers open. He had just managed to crack the lock on the second cabinet when he heard footsteps. He pressed himself against the wall out of sight of the door. Nori didn’t dare breathe. With any luck, someone was just putting something on the desk and would immediately close the door.
The boots took a few steps forward, then stopped. The rustle of cloth was followed by the clatter of something heavy being placed on the desk. To his great relief, that seemed to be the end of the task. The door shut with a loud thud, and he let out a shaky breath of relief. He didn’t want to come up with a reason on the fly that he was still in Dwalin's office. All the ones that came to mind were not ones he thought the guard captain would appreciate.
“Damn, he must have taken it home.” Nori hissed under his breath as he opened the last drawer and found nothing. He made for the door in a hurry, mind already preoccupied by how he was going to sneak his way into Dwalin's house before the day was over.
He didn't make it more than a few steps. As soon as he was clear of the partial wall, he was grabbed and walked back until there was nowhere else to go. His palms flat on the stone behind him, he looked up in surprise.
“Have you decided to dust off the old title and try for the bonny shadow of Erebor now?” Dwalin grinned at him, his arms planted on either side of his head. He looked like he had come back from hunting and was still in his leathers with his sleeves rolled up to his elbow, showing off a multitude of tattoo-covered scars. He spotted his knife quickly. It was still tucked into his belt between his personal things.
He felt his face go red at the expanded title. He was very aware of how he looked, but something about Dwalin calling him that made his insides flutter.
“That would require me to sneak in, which I haven't done. I don't even have to pick the lock on the door.” Nori straightened up but still came woefully short of meeting the menacing dwarf's height.
“I think it started to count as sneaking when you picked the locks on my cabinets.” Dwalin raised his brow like he was cross, but there was no heat in it.
“I didn't have to pick any locks, thank you. You use spring locks,” Nori smiled smugly.
That requires a key to open them,” Dwalin reminded.
Hardly.” Nori pushed his finger into Dwalin's firm chest, backing him up until he was no longer caged. He slipped around the wall and came back with both locks. He latched both so Dwalin could clearly see that it couldn't be undone by pulling. “Spring locks can be opened-” he slammed one of the locks down onto the other one. “ -with another spring lock.”
“I should arrest the bastard who sold me that.” Dwalin took the lock from him, adorably annoyed with the defective security. “Shite materials if it can break so easily. Best lock in the east, my arse.” He tossed it onto his table with a clatter. “Is there a lock you can't break into?”
“Tinker's locks are almost impossible to break unless you're the one who made them or you melt them off. They're all unique but expensive.” Nori dropped the other lock onto the table, his hand going to rest on the nonexistent dagger in his belt, cursing when it was once again missing.
“I still think you might find a way to crack it open, being a tinkerer yourself.” Dwalin laughed, stepping towards him again. Why did he do that? He knew, he must know how big he was, how he loomed over everything with his dark brow and stern disposition. He knew the kind of person Nori was. A dwarf very prone to stepping toward rather than away from things that looked like they could hurt him. Dwalin would never hurt him, not intentionally and not physically, but the soft look in his eyes was prone to making him act very foolishly indeed.
“To be called a tinkerer, I would have had to pass an apprenticeship. Which I didn't.” Nori backed up until he hit the table. He gasped and played it off by leaning into it, his arms spread along the surface, propping him up.
“That was before we met. Why didn't you finish?” Dwalin asked.
“My amad died when Ori was two.” Nori shouldn't laugh at the way Dwalin’s face fell. He was watching the brute think in real time and put together the timeline of when they met. It was true that their mother had passed away when Ori was small. None of them knew their Adads. They were faceless dwarves that his amad had never spoken of and didn’t seem to want anything to do with. She always did right by them and kept them fed. He suspected how she made her money, and who was he to judge a desperate dwarf's choices? “Dori’s work couldn't cover all three, and apprentices don’t make coin for the first year or so.”
“So you decided robbing people blind was your best alternative?"
“No, I worked at a bar. You can’t believe I’ve not always been some awful hardened criminal, can you?” Nori made himself sound as offended as he could, laughing under his breath like he couldn't believe his audacity. Dwalin uncrossed his arms and stepped back on one foot, opening his mouth like he was about to say something. “Then I started robbing people blind. Those I knew could afford it anyway.” He leaned back against the desk, his smile turning into a full-on laugh as Dwalin’s brow darkened in annoyance.
His laughter caught in his chest as his feet left the ground. He reached out for something to steady himself and found only Dwalin's chest. He was sitting on the top of the desk. Dwalin was standing in between his spread legs with his hands planted by his thighs, the whole of his person leaning in, invading his space
“I think that you believe you’re an awful hardened criminal with no redeeming skills other than what you learned scrapping. I know full well you’re not that, which is why I haven’t arrested and chucked you in a cell for a day on account of you breaking in someplace you have no business being.” Dwalin’s voice was dragging over every syllable; it reverberated in his chest like a drum.
He had redeeming qualities but not redeeming skills. Confidence wasn't a skill; a smart mouth and a pretty smile weren't a skill. Not redeeming skills that a dwarf like Dwalin would look at and find noble.
“And yet between the two of us, only one person is holding a stolen object.” Nori purred, adjusting his position and brushing his leg against Dwalin's. He couldn't help but be smug when Dwalin’s eyes lost their focus. He inched his fingers closer to their prize, gasping when a large hand commandedly tilted his chin up. He was forced to look at him through his lashes.
“You could always ask for it back politely,” Dwalin said challengingly.
“Can I have my dagger back, Lord Captain Dwalin?” Nori humored him in a false sweet voice.
“Politely,” Dwalin drew out the word, his face inching closer, capturing him. If it were anyone else, Nori would have kicked them in the groin and spat on them for good measure. That impulse was quiet now, silently wondering what compliance would reward him with.
“Please,” Nori breathed.
They were very close now. Nearly nose to nose and breathing each other's air. Without thinking about it, he wet his lips and watched Dwalin's eyes track the movement. Nori looked down at his lips, then back up to meet his piercing gaze. His first instinct was to pull away, to reject the touch he craved. He was a solo creature, and he didn't play well with others, but he was starved for touch and hoped he didn't reek of desperation. He leaned forward and immediately grew uncertain of his own ambition.
Right before he thought to pull away, Dwalin's lips crashed into his, his fingers threading themselves into his hair to cradle his head and pull him in deeper. Nori went willingly, pressing himself to his chest and leaning in. Murmurs of surprise and contentment were pulled out of him as his whole body shuddered at the firm but gentle touch. Dwalin broke the kiss, and for a split second, his heart seized, constricting in his chest as he waited to be told that what had just happened was a mistake.
He was being stared at. Observed in a raw and uncomfortable way.
Dwalin dragged the rough pad of his thumb over his lips and went in again, kisses trailing from his mouth to his jaw and down his oversensitive neck, the pleasant bliss of the light suction curling his toes and pulling half-bitten moans from him.
Knock knock. They both froze just as Dwalin's hand had wandered up his thigh and teased under his tunic.
“Lord Dwalin, the king has sent word that he is waiting for you.” Someone said outside the door.
“Tell him I'll be a bloody minute!” Dwalin shouted over his shoulder.
“I'll…let him know you're on your way.” The messenger replied, long steps carrying him quickly from the door.
“I’ll go,” Nori said, slipping off the table and simultaneously relieving Dwalin of his knife. He felt more sure-footed with its familiar weight back on his person, even if the hilt was all but shattered.
“We should talk later.” Dwalin extended his arm to catch him around the waist as he made for the door. It wasn't a grab or a command, a simple overfamiliar gesture that made his thoughts turn to jam.
“You know where to find me.” Nori smiled, slipping from his touch and out the door.
He walked and walked until his feet carried him away from the barracks and away from home to the more familiar pebbled streets that must have been a slum at some point before the fall. It was always rather predictable where in the mountain one might pop up. Like dust collecting in the corners of a room.
He stopped at the pillar of an empty crossway and leaned against it. When he licked his lips, he could still taste him. Tobacco smoke, leather, sweets. He threw his head back with a smile and closed his eyes to remember the way his hands felt on him.
Nori heard chattering coming down the hall. He cursed under his breath and ducked into a long-abandoned shop, staying still and silent.
“Have you made any progress in stopping his majesty from going through with the plan to bring over talentless labor?” The dwarves approaching came into his view, and to his great displeasure, it was several of the very ones in the meeting with Thorin a week ago. The merchant dwarf was among them. Their full-bellied, lofty laughs made his nose curl in disgust. They continued walking past where he was hiding, and curiosity bid him follow.
“Not yet,” The merchant dwarf lamented. “He seems stubborn in his support of it and wants to send letters to his sister, the regent in Ered Luin, to start the process. His consort is no better.”
“I've never been a fan of the little creature anyway,” A dwarf scoffed.
“You had better never let the king hear you say that. I've never seen a dwarf so protective of his One. At the very least, I heard he came from the upper class of his Shire, and he has a talent for negotiation. He’s clearly lived a life well suited to a ruling class.”
“Who put the idea in his majesty's head to begin with?" A voice unfamiliar to Nori asked.
“It was the spymaster.” One of them replied. “You don't forget a face like that. I barely heard him say a word. I was too busy looking at his hair to check for a bead. Prettiest thing I've seen. I'm not familiar with his family.”
There was a moment of silence where he thought looks might be exchanged.
“He’s a risin' Lord. The newly established house of Ri. A prime example of why you don't elevate the lower class, no matter how pretty they are. They have no understanding of how things work,” The merchant scoffed. “Elevating a criminal and letting it mingle with folk of good sense. Maybe the king really did go mad.”
“You're just bitter that he was made a higher-ranking lord than you, and the king respects him.” One of the others slapped the merchant on the back with a laugh.
“With good reason! I’m the one who reestablished Ereborian trade after the first winter, and it’s my caravans that the mountain uses to transport goods. The king holds grudges against those who didn't take the risk of losing everything on his quest. When this palace is swarming with filth, we’ll see how he feels. A nice face isn't going to seem so worth it then,” the merchant grumbled.
“You're worrying yourself for nothing. He's a lord, whether we like it or not. Between his status and his looks, he’ll get swept up into a courtship with a greater house. A few years of living in comfort won't make him eager to return to the slums, not that he would be welcomed if he did. Leave the ruling to the Durins and secure your trade contracts. Everything will return to the status quo eventually.”
Nori didn't hear the rest of the conversation. He stopped following. All of it was things he expected to hear. Anything that he was going to earn as a lord and any shred of respect he wanted was going to be hard-fought and impossible to obtain from some. It was the casually said facts of the last speaker that stuck with him. Getting a title opened opportunities he could never have dreamed of. He never considered that it might close them, too.
Other lords, guild masters, and traders didn't see him as anything other than a former criminal who got lucky. Would his people see him as a traitor? Some lofty nobody who got lucky and abandoned them just like everyone else?
So he was destined for what? To be not good enough for one group and too good for another? A pretty face scooped up by the first noble he let into his bed to be kept like a trinket? He wanted so badly to play at something he wasn't. He told Belgri he was a noble of sorts. He was acting exactly the way the nobles expected. New wealth, new money, with no understanding of how the system works from so high up.
What would the slums of Erebor look like in ten years' time? Would he be comfortable walking among his former fellows, or would a plush life change him over the decades into one of the lords who looked down on him? The ones more than eager to drag him over a stage and make him a spectacle. The ones more than happy to buy his nighttime hours and pushed when he said no. How was he going to convince people so broken by a system that he was different when he wouldn't trust himself either?
His hand went to his knife as he tried to thumb the bead on the pommel. He hissed and belatedly remembered it was broken. He didn't look at his thumb. Just watch the blood drip onto the street. There was no answer for him and no soothing for what he felt. The events of the day felt sour, and the sweetness of Dwalin lingering on his lips tasted like cherry poison.