Nori fought back to back with his brothers, needing to know that they were alive. It was likely small of him, with the size of the battle and the number of members of all the free peoples fighting in it. There were three kings and numerous high placed lords fighting, and any of them were objectively more important than Nori and his brothers. But he couldn’t fight more fiercely than he did here for them.
He did more than his share, nudging Nori out of the way and taking attacks meant for him. He kept one eye on Dori, pulling him back to safety when he was in danger. It didn’t occur to him that he wasn’t the only one doing that until Dori tackled him to the ground and an arrow flew right above them, missing Dori by inches.
Frightened as he was, he managed to glare at Dori. "Protect yourself!“ he snapped. "You could have died!”
“I’d die for you,” Dori answered, pushing to his feet and pulling Nori up after him. "You and Ori both.“ They closed in around their youngest brother again, trying to push back against the waves of Orcs that didn’t seem to diminish. "I’d haunt you from the afterlife, of course,” Dori added in a precious moment of quiet, “but it’s the thought that counts, right?”
Nori snorted. "If something can kill you I’ve no chance against it,“ he said, sword swinging around over his head and slicing into at least two Orcs. "Best stay among the living, brother mine.”
Three backs pressing strong against each other, like a rock in the tide. And with that announcement of intent, Nori saw that both he and Ori were paying extra attention to Dori, making sure he was safe. Because they would all die for each other, but only Dori would do it cheerfully, and they had to make sure he never needed to.
Nori was a thief so good that just being his lookout was guaranteed to get you jobs. Nori was a thief so elusive that the guard had steadily growing bounties on his head and had had to pay them several times, because he never stayed in jail. Nori was a thief so beautiful that one of the ways he stayed out of jail was being distracting lay sexy.
Nori was a man with a mind like a steel trap, with reflexes like trip wires. Nori was a man of energy, climbing the walls just for something to do and hanging down from the ceiling holding onto finger and toeholds no one else could see. Nori was a man who didn’t trust easily, but once his trust was won it was absolute. Nori was a man who would cuddle shamelessly and tease while he did it.
Nori craved attention. He loved the way the guard hated him because it meant that they were thinking of him. He loved the way he was looked at when he was being sexy. He loved to hear people talk of him. He loved to be looked at and spoken of and touched. He loved touch – loved hands gently touching, loved kisses, loved sex in all its myriad ways.
Nori was ticklish.
Dwalin had discovered this by accident. Nori woke slowly when he felt safe, came up from sleep innocent and loving. And Dwalin liked to hold him then, to gently kiss his nose and his eyelids and his hair. To curl himself around Nori and hold him safe and warm. To run his hands tenderly over the body of his lover. The giggles were merely an added bonus.
Although they made Nori feel less safe and silly, so he sometimes woke with eyes already suspiciously narrowed. "I’ll knock you on your ass if you even think about it,“ he growled as if he could see into Dwalin’s mind.
Dwalin smiled serenely and kissed him. Nori sighed, melting into the kiss. He didn’t feel the fingers curling into his sides until it was too late.
Since no canon was specified, I will assume Hobbit. 🙂
1. Dori and Balin have basically the same superpower – they know things. This doesn’t mean they can’t be surprised or miss things (especially if you’re Nori). Dwalin, on the other hand, doesn’t bother most of the time. Balin is his big brother and always knew everything anyway.
2. The Durin clan, being from an old blood, wealthy family, generally use their powers to the benefit of the government/system. It’s always meant the best for them, so they don’t even think of possibilities. Dori’s gang is far more vigilante. They help victims, including victims of the system, so they often go against the police and the government. 3. Dwalin and Nori actually met at an ice cream parlor. Dwalin was indulging his sweet tooth. Nori was actually getting something for Ori, but when he saw Dwalin he decided that could wait. 4. Dwalin is probably the most gentle and safe of his family, but none of them – himself included – see it that way. Because of his berserker rage, he has developed 100% control of himself. It is ironclad and can withstand extreme provocation (he can beat people up while calm if needed). They all see the flaming rage and not the control. It is sad. 5. Dori’s “villain origin” – depending on if you want to consider him a villain – is pretty much that he just got tired of things like police entering a house firing and killing children and non violent offenders if they were black/poor but calmly talking down armed and dangerous white men.
Nori sat with his back to the wall and sulked. He hadn’t been invited to the party – it was for nobility – but he had snuck in to watch Dwalin. He knew the highest placed members of exiled Erebor were under orders to woo natives of the Blue Mountains to try and get a firm toehold. Those who were married were, of course, exempt. But Nori didn’t count.
The beam that ran through the hall was indeed quite broad, and it was easy for Nori to hide on it and watch Dwalin dance and chat. He smiled at lovely and well dressed people. And Nori could see the way some of them flirted with him. Why wouldn’t they? He was strong and handsome and everything a Dwarf should be. Nori contemplated picking a few pockets, but that wouldn’t endear him to anyone.
Dwalin approached the buffet tables at the side of the room under Nori’s perch.
“Having fun?” Nori asked sharply, gratified when Dwalin startled. He looked up, saw Nori, and his face lit up. Nori had to continue before he melted. "Should I expect a wedding soon?“
“Do you really think that just because we were asked to create friendly relations–”
“It’s not like you to ignore orders.”
Dwalin smiled fondly at him. "Come down here,“ he said, motioning Nori down.
Still feeling contrary, Nori hung from his knees, crossing his arms and glaring at Dwalin upside down. The aboveground building was built low to save the cost of building materials and heating, and Dwalin was so tall that they were almost eye to eye. Dwalin stepped closer, stood on his toes, and kissed Nori lightly.
"You silly git,” he said fondly. "Come down here. Dori will want to be told all about the wines they’re serving.“
It was nice to have Dwalin sleep over, even if it meant that Nori didn’t get the couch and had to sleep on the floor. It meant that she felt safe with them, safe when the progressing pregnancy made her parents less and less able to deal with her.
He sat with his back against the couch, listening to the sound of her even breathing. It was nice to be near her, to feel the bulge of her stomach – his child – against his shoulder. Nice, even knowing he’d have to pull her off the old, broken couch in the morning.
He turned and kissed the hollow of her hip, pressing his lips right under her extruding belly and then moving them gently up around her side. Before he could pull away, there were strong fingers threading through his hair. And a sleep roughened voice – the best voice ever – speaking with fondness. "You sappy idiot. Get some sleep.“
She has asked for a private audience, at the convenience of the King, and now sits at the table which holds the delicate chains and tokens of her home to be braided into her hair. Others, too, which are shorter, for Zhirair, though she would have left his hair as loose as Vahan does his if her husband had not asked that she keep to the traditions of the south for them both.
Letting out a quiet sigh, she picks up the steel comb to brush out hair and beard, dark brown strands threaded with copper that echo that of the chains that will wind through the braids. She parts it carefully, the first braid beginning at her temple, the clever paws of a bronze dragon clasping it close to her scalp, and holding one end of the chain as she weaves it through the seven-stranded braid in the pattern of a married bearer. More hair is gathered as she brings it down in front of her ear to her beard, until she reaches the raven clasp to hold the end.
A second goes on the other side, with a pair of chains for her children – she hopes Vahan has not carried Akhavi to every council meeting since she had left. The rest of her beard is left loose, and she works the other chains into small braids across the top of her head, their clasps smaller and finer, easier to miss in the unbraided mass of the rest of her hair. The final braid has only plain bronze clasps at top and bottom, each marked with a name, to remember her parents who rest in stone and wait in Mahal’s halls for the remaking of the world.
“Amad?” Zhirair dashes across the room, his nurse following behind with an unamused expression on her face. “Jalel says I have to wear the new tunic that’s all stiff.”
Khatar reaches down to pick Zhirair up, settling him in her lap. “We’re to meet with the King Under the Mountain, who is born of the Line of Durin. You and I both need to be dressed in the very best.”
Zhirair reaches out to poke at the chains still on the table. “Do those have to go in my hair?” He turns his head, looking up at her with a pout, and a pleading expression in his eyes. “Adad never wears them.”
“Your adad wasn’t born in Mountain’s End.” Khatar picks up a smaller comb, starting to work the tangles from Zhirair’s hair from the ends up. “He wears his hair like those he was once a part of, before he came south.”
“I want to wear my hair like adad.” Zhirair crosses his arms over his chest, slouching in Khatar’s lap. “The chains pull.”
“Your adad wants you to remember the traditions of the south, little warrior.” Khatar leans down to press a kiss to the top of Zhirair’s head. “I will take them out when we return from meeting the King Under the Mountain.”
“Promise?” Zhirair pokes one of the tiny ravens that will hold the ends of his braids.
“Always, little warrior.”
Note: Vahan is the name that Frerin takes after escaping orcs in Moria (having been captured during Azanulbizar).
The first time was a trap. Nori had seen Fíli looking at his younger brother. And if there was one thing he and Dori agreed on, it was that no one was good enough for Ori.
So he’d come on to the prince, to see what kind of man he was – would he be one to treat Ori well if they were together (which, of course, they wouldn’t be). And also to see if he’d take that kind of bait. If he would cheat on someone as good as Ori (and if he ever hurt Ori, Nori was fully prepared to commit regicide).
The golden prince was younger than he was and swayed shyly into him when propositioned. Nori kissed him hungrily, aggressively. Fíli gripped him tightly, but opened under him so sweet and obedient. He looked up at Nori afterward, breath heaving, eyes filled with wonder, his lips curling into an amazed smiled.
“Nori,” he breathed. "I never thought… Never thought you’d want me….“
Nori raised a brow, used to not showing confusion. "Ori?”
“Too good for Kíli, but he seems to like him anyway.” Fíli was still looking at him with that smile, hands running up Nori’s arms to meet behind is neck.
The second kiss was better than the first. The third was better than that. Then Nori stopped counting.
let’s stop seeing sex as the biggest thing you can do to show someone you love them
everyone knows that the real way to show someone you love them is to find them a really cool rock. not a diamond. just a neat rock that you think they will enjoy
Not a rock THE ARKENSTONE
Why just one rock Why not three Why not the silmarils
Nori’s first day of school. Dori knew his little brother was as excited as he had been. He was glad that Nori had the afternoon kindergarten so their parents had decided he could walk home with Dori. It was a great responsibility. And it meant he got to hear all about Nori’s day first.
He went down to the kindergarten wing, a ten year old among parents, and Nori flew into his arms. They held hands as they walked home, Nori swinging their arms as high as he could reach and laughing as he skipped to try and go higher. Dori laughed as well, pulling all the way up and dangling Nori’s feet off the ground.
“How did you like it?” he asked.
“It was great!” Nori crowed in response. "We got to color and we played musical chairs and we got a snack and did show and tell and got to play on our own playground with no bigger kids to steal the swings!“ His smile slipped. "Not much bigger kids.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Dwalin Durin. He’s the biggest kid in class. He said I couldn’t have a swing the whole time ‘cause other kids wanted them too.”
“He’s right, Nori,” Dori pointed out. "You have to share.“
“But I never get the swings at home! So I should get them more at school! I told him and he pushed me off the swing.”
“He did what!”
“So I kicked him in the face. And then he said he was gonna get me and he’d never let me get away with anything.”
Dori fumed. "He has a brother or a cousin in my class. I’ll talk to him and–“
"No, Dori!” Nori’s eyes were huge. "He’s my nemesis! You have to let me take care of him.“
"Nori, if he’s bullying you…”
Nori shook his head. "I need a nemesis if I want to be a super villain when I grow up. Every super villain has one.“
Dori wasn’t sure what to do with his little brother….
There's a Mirror on the Wall 