of Introductions
I'm so sorry this hasn't been updated, but I got the mojo juice back, and awayyy we go!
Snow had fallen much more than it had previously, delaying their departure by more than a few days, but allowing all injuries received to heal enough to travel. But with the sun no longer hidden behind the grey winter clouds, and the bright spring ahead of them, Thrain and his party began to take their leave.
Unlike many different parties that had come to the humble farm, this party lingered, more than apprehensive to leave. The family of the farm had grown quite fond of the royals and their escorts as well.
Bragar and Fundin played with the children, showing them dwarvish games and rhymes, all in the children's language; it had become an inside joke between Marlos' posterity for many years afterward. Bragar didn't show it much, but she missed how her children would run up to her and show her their little trinkets, and wished things had been different, so she could have cherished the years her sons were at this age. More than once, Fundin watched his wife wipe a stray tear from her eyes before they fell into her beard.
When Fundin wasn't with his wife and the Master's family, he was often found with Balin, walking among the fields. He and his son talked frequently, and hearts were laid out to bear. Fundin's family had been spared from the Calamity of Erebor, but he feared greatly with this approaching war.
Together, almost like clockwork, their discussion would turn to that of hope, of what they would do after the war, but their hope was more thin than a spider's silk. More than once, they would return to the guest house with their beards wet from tears more than overspent.
Gloin seemed to be the only one ready to leave when the day finally came. Thrain only had let the young one come because Dwalin, Fundin's other son, had sprained his foot three days before and wasn't fit for duty. Gloin was ready to show his steel, to prove how much of a warrior he was. What he failed to realize, however, was just how many days would pass before he could remove the armor from his frame, for fear of being run through from behind.
Thrain had more than befriended Marlos, he considered him a dear brother and looked forward to future business with the Man. Thrain also seemed the most unfazed by the looming war. His fury still burned bright in his belly at his Father's murder, as it should, but more than once, members of his escort would wonder just how far the King would go to avenge his Father before it killed him. Thrain did not doubt that the dwarves would rally at his call, and sooner than later, Moria would belong to his people once more, and his father's name would be cleansed from the Orc filth that had defiled it.
Thorin and Frerin were the most hesitant to leave. In the days that had followed Rolund and his snow slaughter, the Princes of Durin had made an effort to get to know their rescuer, although their pestering nearly caused them to leave the farm much earlier than planned. In turn, little did they know, Marlos and Thrain made arrangements to have Armis study within the settlement that housed the line of Durin when this war was over, wherever it happened to be.
"You will write to me, yes," Armis asked, holding tight to Frerin's gloved hands. She didn't know of the arrangement her father had made, she feared this would be the last time she would see them in a long while, if ever.
They stood before his pony, ready for a long journey. Thorin stood to their left, tightening the straps on his steed, feeling more than a little... he couldn't find the right word but he wasn't too happy that Frerin was hogging their friend's attention as of late.
"Of course I will, my little Rutty," Frerin said sweetly, stooping low and setting a gentle kiss on her knuckles.
Thorin's frustration bled into his actions, the pony called out as the movements, normally smooth and loving, suddenly became quick and sharp. Hooves stamped in the gravel path as Thorin quickly and quietly mumbled his apologies to the steed, running his hands over her hide as if that would soothe the pony.
The pony's sudden discomfort wasn't ignored as Thorin had vainly hoped, Armis immediately came to the pony's muzzle, her retort directed at Frerin, and ironically ignored by Thorin, for calling her Rutty was lost as she soothingly rubbed the pony's chin, whispering sweet nothings for only the steed to hear.
The brother's eyes locked for a half second as Armis calmed the pony, Frerin's gaze playful, his eyebrows wiggling as his mirth bubbled up from his heart, and Thorin's gaze cold, although love was hidden in its icy blue depths. "I want you both to write to me," Armis commanded, now stroking the pony's muzzle to soothe her worries. She looked between them, not having seen their looks earlier. Thorin inhaled deeply, his fingers finding their way to the pony's mane, soft and smooth.
Thrain's call to move out came from the front of their group, Armis felt her heart squeeze. With a quick hug for the two princes, she backed up to join her family, standing at the edge of the porch as they bid their new friends safe travels. She held their eyes for a good while as the troop moved down the path. She felt a deep connection with them, one that she only recalled having with her parents.
"May your beards grow ever long," Marlos called out as the dwarves reached the end of the yard, his hand held out to say farewell, tears held bay so long as the Dwarf King could see him. The longer the dwarves had stayed, the more sure Marlos had become of the deep sorrow and dread that brought the old farmer to his knees.
Thrain turned back, his arm held high as he waved back, oblivious to the tears in his companions' eyes and that of the Farmer's Family, "And your days be long on this land!"
That was years and years ago it seemed. Almost another life, Armis felt. So much had changed since that day, including her. For seven long years she had exchanged letters with the Heirs of Durin via a raven. She had never known the birds to be clever, but the princes quickly set her right, they also communicated with their Mother in the Iron Hills, over half a world away, via ravens. It was how Armis, now settled into an apprenticeship within Ered Luin, communicated with her Father, still on their humble farm, and still tending every day to his land.
Armis chuckled to herself as the bittersweet memories of letters and ravens filled her mind. Her last correspondence with them was over forty years ago, she hoped beyond hope that they had simply misplaced the raven, but she knew something had happened. Last she had heard from them, there was going to be a last battle, a final stand against the Orcs. She swept away the memories with the dust on the porch she stood upon, the front of a tinker shop run by a dear friend of her mother's family, his name was Bofur.
His bright and jovial laugh pulled Armis further out of her melancholy feelings, and with a final push, the porch was free of dust and ready for the stampede of children soon to come.
"Now that's a sight I'll never get tired of," He said, joining her on the porch. His hat was on crooked, like always, and his mustache was twisted up with wax to its usual points, on either side of his bright and wide smile. Armis leaned on the broom, turning her head on its side as she waited for him to continue, her braid, long and thick gently swaying in the summer breeze. He chuckled and pulled a hand out of his front apron pocket, pointing at the street before them.
Armis turned and looked, finding the street empty, save a stray cat and a few barrels. She could see clear to the school's door at the far end, the children all in single file just behind the door frame, the strong door held open by the tutor. He held his hand up, as if he was to start a race, ready to duck behind the door should the children decide to all come out at once, which had happened more than once. The tutor didn't seem annoyed, or frustrated, his bright smile betraying the professional atmosphere he otherwise displayed.
The bell from the towers rang, one, two, three, and the children began to march, something that Bofur had made them promise to do, or else be barred from his shop for the next two weeks. The eldest of the children, Bofur's little nephew Bunbur, stood at the front of the line, whispering to the youngest of the children behind him how it should be done. They copied his motions, exaggerating their swinging arms, their faces pinched up in an attempt to look stern, "Like a soldier," Bunbur had said. If the young dwarrow's heart wasn't set on taking over his Father's Bakery when he grew older, Armis thought he would have made a great tutor when the time came.
Armis lifted the broom off the ground, caught it in its upward motion, and twirled around on the ball of her foot, quickly tucking the broom away into the shop, just inside the door, employee's side of the counter. By the time she returned to the porch, all the children were lined up again, looking more like the start of a race and less like being let out of school. Armis brushed the front of her own apron off, pulling the drawstrings tight behind her, making sure that a few sweets were safely stored in her own pockets for the select children who couldn't afford their own.
With the school's door firmly shut and secured, the Tutor stood to one side of the children, something he, nor the tutor before him had done previously. She turned to Bofur, he turned to lean on one of the supports for the awning, his eyes still glued to the sight across the market, but otherwise facing his apprentice.
"He's just making sure everyone knows where they're going, lass." Small shouts, excitement plainly heard in their voices, came from the little students then, one at a time. "We had a pebble go missing last release because he went one way when he was told to go another."
Armis nodded as the Tutor said something else, but with a quick bow, the children were off to their devices, a great majority of them racing as fast as they could to Bofur's tinkering shop. Some went to the public washing house to ask their mothers for spare coins, and others went home, promising their friends that they'd be back as soon as their chores were finished.
The door was pushed open by the shop owner himself, Armis recalled last week when a young one had slammed the door open, a new dent was left on the said door, the child had been so eager to enter!
Business went by quickly, children marveled at the new tinkers Bofur had set up to display, a few tears were shed as the children realized that some of the more popular trinkets had been sold, but the tears were soon stifled as a taller child saw the display saying that more would be coming soon.
Armis ran the sweets 'bar', making sure to wipe off the stone countertop frequently to keep the sticky messes from building up. She tended to the children with care, being extra sure to wipe their sticky fingers too. Bofur ran the rest of the shop, grateful for his brother's generous supply of sweets, treats, and discounted prices for them, and for the extra help Armis had been. He had been running it with his cousin, but since returning from the Iron Hills, and fully recovering, Bifur never quite was the same around children. He preferred to stay in the back, providing the tinkering trinkets rather than handing them out.
The flood of children had stemmed finally, some odd hours later, and Armis could step away from the counter for just long enough to clean up the shop. She took her trusty broom from behind the counter again and began to sweep away the cookie crumbs from the Children's bar, setting the forgotten toys up on the counter so they could be set into the lost bin, kept right next to the broom's corner.
The door flew open and a little pebble ran right up to Armis, barreling into her legs with such force she thought for sure that she would topple over.
"Up, up, up," He shouted, holding his arms up as he bounced on his feet. With a bright smile, Armis obliged, lifting the dwarfling and setting him on her hip. He threw his arms around her neck, humming as he pulled her tight, Armis couldn't help but laugh.
"Now what are you up to today, Master Fili," She asked, pulling away to look at the blonde menace, and a menace indeed! If you couldn't tell from his frizzy braids or his dirty face, you could tell by the look in his bright blue eyes, that he was always up to something. He pulled back and put his finger to his chin, tapping it thoughtfully.
"I dunno- Whaz that?!" He pointed past Armis to the top display on the window, white, black, and green stone shone in the wooden frame, Armis couldn't help but smile to herself.
"It's a jewelry box! It's where your amad would keep her stones and pretties-"
"What does the other side look like," He asked, leaning out just enough to cause Armis's balance to shift, she pulled him close again. She quickly stepped out the door and brought him around to see it, pointing at the box for emphasis. It was a simple box, but one that Armis was proud of, her first of hopefully many more.
"Didja make that one," He asked, pointing as he stared at her. She nodded and he shrieked, bouncing on her hip as she struggled to keep from teetering over, his momentum and weight adding to the struggle. "It's so pretty, how long did you take? How did you make the stone all those colors?"
Armis began to tell him how the stone came that way, but a sharp and deep and familiar voice cut through her thoughts, silencing her words.
"FILI SON OF VILI!"
"Down, down, down," Fili hissed, practically jumping from her arms. She quickly set him down, keeping a good hold on his shoulders as he turned to face the voice, should he want to run off. That's happened a few times with the more troublesome pebbles. They'll retreat to Bofur's shop and have their guardian furious for whatever trouble they had caused, and now for running away from their consequence.
The two of them turned around to face who had called, and Armis felt her heart stop as a familiar face stomped up to the porch. At first, she had recognized the voice as that of the dwarrow's Father, her heart hammering against her ribs, but she was glad she was mistaken, she only hoped his temper wasn't as famed as his sire's.
His hair was streaked with silver, but still the dark black she remembered, and many a faded or fading scar lay on his bare forearms, his shirt sleeves were rolled up. He was speaking harshly to Fili, his finger wagging at him as he picked up the youngster. Armis thought Fili had said something back but she couldn't hear him but she wasn't sure. He turned from looking at Fili, sternly, to apologize to Armis for disrupting her business, but he stopped too, shock crossing his face as their eyes locked. Warmth, shock, and joy radiated from Armis then, her dear friend smiled widely at her, saying something, but Armis couldn't hear it again...
Armis was awoken by the memory of the shock she had felt, but she figured it was a good thing that it happened. She had to get everyone up and out if they were to remain on schedule. She peeled her tired and aching body from the soft dirt and blankets, pushing away the sleep that tempted her to pull her back down. If she was to see Thorin's cursed dream fulfilled, she would have to see it through until he got here. If he got here...
She pulled herself further upright to fix her boots upon her feet. Her body quietly protested as she willed it to move, but not without a very valid reason. She had practically sprinted from Ered Luin to the edges of the Shire before she dared even attempt to acquire a steed. Everyone in their grand settlement would have immediately told Dis, and then she'd have to deal with yet another Durin's famous temper. She knew one was coming once her dear one was upon them...
The dwarrowdam stumbled over to the last watchman for the night, Dwalin, raising her hands far over her head as she stretched out the last of her tiredness. He had his back to her, set on a pack of wood, he hardly turned around when she let out her loud and ragged yawn. With an eyebrow raised, she leaned into his view to find his entire being pinched up. His eyes were the most pinched, she couldn't read what they were silently trying to tell her. With a deep intake of breath, Dwalin finally relaxed, uncrossing his arms from his chest and setting his hands on his knees, shaking his head as his gaze fell to the ground.
"You will deal with him when he returns," He muttered, not meeting her gaze. Armis finally got his hidden message. She threw her head up to the sky, throwing her hands out as she tried to find the words to explain her reasoning. Dwalin stood up, deft and quick, before she could even utter a syllable.
"I don't want to hear your reasoning," He began quietly, his face lowered to look her in the eyes. Armis couldn't read his face or his emotions again, she was more than a little worried. "In truth, I'm glad you're here with us." Armis let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, "But don't assume I will defend your actions. It's bad enough you disobeyed your husband, don't make me have to choose between my friend or my king..." With those parting words, Dwalin left his post, his foot purposefully colliding with Nori's back, rudely awakening the reformed thief. Together, once Nori had finished grumbling his complaints at the rude awakening, they went to gather the saddles and tack for their steeds.
"If this could be avoided, I wouldn't be here," She mumbled as she went to pack up her things.
Truth be told, Armis was going to come. Ever since Thorin had come back from Bree the first time in early March, that had been the plan. He and her were going to reclaim Erebor, hand in hand, but plans had changed. Armis remembered it clearly.
The dwarves of Ered Luin had thrown a party for their heroes, a solemn but joyous party, and only those of close kin knew the true reason for their leaving. Most assumed that Thorin was taking the young princes to visit their kin in the Iron Hills, a chance to experience more of the Long Beard's culture and clan, having been raised around the Broad Beams all their lives.
Armis hadn't seen her husband all day, he had left early in the morning, before the sun had peered over the horizon even. She recalled him stepping out to give the final toast before the celebration was to fully begin, the traditional Parting Glass, and their eyes locked. That same familiarity from so many years ago on Bofur's shop porch shone in their eyes, warm, loving, a hidden smile within, but he took a deep breath and broke their gaze. With his glass raised high, Thorin asked a blessing of safety and success come to them, and that loved ones would find the strength they needed to continue.
Glasses and mugs were raised solemnly, the drink of each dwarrow's choice was downed and the party resumed at Thorin's behest. Armis should have known something was eating away at him, but at the time he only looked tired. He soon joined her at the table she, Dis, Fili and Kili had taken up, unnaturally silent. He didn't stay long, and for that matter, neither did she. He pulled her away from the grand party, found a small room that was unoccupied and gently shut the door behind them.
His face, Armis will never forget his face then. His eyes, normally bright and full of emotion, were dull and cold, not cold like when he was being polite to a rude dwarrow, but cold as if there was nobody within; his poker face, Dis called it. Armis hadn't spent many days with him at City Meetings, but she did recognize the wall set up around his heart. Before she could ask what was troubling him, Thorin gently pleaded with her to stay in Ered Luin. Tears welled in his eyes, now dark with fear and sorrow she hadn't seen in him in many years.
Armis wanted to lash out then, scream at him, how dare he ask this of her! In all his plans, in all their schemes, she had always been a part of them, ever since he had formally asked for her hand, so many years ago. Now, to change them so suddenly, and without a valid reason, she had half a mind to smack some sense into him.
But his eyes. It's always his eyes...
And so, Armis had stayed at Thorin's request, after many tears, empty threats, and promises that Armis somehow knew wouldn't be kept. Thorin had left again before the sun had graced their small home, or the land roundabout with its light.
When the Company settled down for the evening, they had found a nice little wide-mouthed cave. Well, it was more of a rock, carved out so the 'occupants' could shelter from the wind. Dwalin and Armis hadn't spoken since that morning, other than to discuss travel paths. Armis made a point to keep a few feet away from him, she didn't want to step on already bruised or broken toes. After supper had been put away, she set herself on a shelf found in the rock, by the mouth's cave, deciding to shut her eyes for just a moment. Her green eyes scanned her companions, most of them were sat around the fire or tucked into their sleeping sacks, although she thought it was far too hot, hence her spot up on the stone. She happened a glance at Fili and Kili, they were busy sharpening sticks to poke the fire with, or knives simply for the sake of doing something. With a final sigh, she settled further into her stony seat. She hadn't gotten much sleep in her haste, so she might as well try now.
Her mind wandered, the memory of her dream came then, and she thought of that particular moment. She smiled to herself, Thorin's words coming to mind now. He had been scolding Fili, who had always gone to Bofur's shop after his schoolwork was done, while his Amad and brother washed up laundry nearby. Thorin had just returned from the Iron Hills, Dis had mentioned in passing that her brother was going to be arriving sooner than later, but Armis hadn't even fathomed who it could have been. Thorin was still getting used to how Dis ran her household, a task even he dared not to undertake with Fili, being just old enough to begin attending primary school, and Kili, who began toddling around the house two months ago; Dis was still 'baby-proofing' the house and furniture again.
As far as Thorin knew, Fili was distracting Armis from her work, hence the scolding, to which Armis assured him that her work very much included showing the young pebbles possible paths they could pursue, such as tinkering, mining, carpentry, and cooking, to name but a few.
She had been with Bofur, Bifur, and Bombur for nearly a year at that point, as they had befriended her mother's nephew and was with him when he passed from his life in Arda, due to an illness of the lungs. When Marlos had written her kin about housing Armis in her studies, unaware of his passing, Bofur had been quick to respond, with condolences, and then assurance that Armis would be welcome in his shop and home if she still wanted. Within his humble home, she learned different types of tools required in carpentry and general tinkering, and she was shown the mines and their vast depths. Armis remembered she felt out of place within the mines, but kept that to herself, as the teacher of her youth had mentioned how much the dwarves loved to mine, as they were 'made of stone.'
Shortly after Thrain and his party had left their farms, two more dwarrow had stumbled into their home, sometime in the middle of the night. Armis recalled that she had been awoken by her Father and this new visitor's companion the morning following their arrival, shouting about something within the upstairs Study. When Marlos finally emerged, he informed those at the dining table that they would have a guest with them for a few months, the other was to return to whatever he had been doing before, Marlos was very irritated at that. Armis didn't pry into it. This guest was to teach Armis about her heritage as a dwarf, in exchange for room and board while his leg healed from a breakage in the thigh. This dwarrow had taught her much, but as he had told her, "Experience is everything!"
Soon enough, Armis had learned all she could, and the guest's leg had long been healed, Marlos allowed his board to continue until there was nothing left to teach. When the time had come, about five years had passed, and the guest urged Armis to visit Ered Luin, which was the closest settlement. At the time it had been a little hamlet, mostly occupied with Broad Beams and the stray human, but overall a safe place to visit.
Marlos thanked the Guest but said they would wait a few years before Armis could say anything, as much as she had wanted to visit the hamlet then and there! Thrain had paid his debt in the years that had followed but made no mention of housing Armis at the time, Marlos hoped that he would remember and mention it, but the Old King never did...
When Armis finally left Ered Luin, when her father's health began to fail, Kili was just old enough to begin school, which was to start a new session at the end of the month. Armis smiled to herself again as sleep gently took her away, tears welling under her eyelids at the memory of her sorrow at leaving the small family behind. Fili had told the younger brother for years about how wonderful it was to leave the school after a 'hard day's work' and sprint to the shop, finding Armis within with treats and snacks ready for them. Kili had at first bawled because he wouldn't be able to experience that, only to stifle his tears when Armis assured him Bofur knew their favorite sweets almost as well as she did. He started back up when he realized she was going away, and she might not be coming back.
