Natural || Dwalin x OC - A Hobbit Fanfiction

11 - Keep it Hushed

"You wanted to see me," Dwalín said when he came into the room still yawning from having just woken up. He had planned to sleep in for the first time in days. He wouldn't admit to Thorín that he had been spending more nights in Rurín parlor sitting up through the night just talking with her. He felt if he told Thorín that he actually enjoyed her company he would never hear the end of it. Between him and Dís, it would a be an 'I told you so' and 'big ole softie. Must be getting old

It was the old comment that would bother him. Dwalín was 165 years old, he would be 166 in a few months... He knew he was getting old. He knew that the age difference would be a problem for society if they were to get the wrong idea... At least for humans. Dwalín wasn't interested in Rurín. Definitely wasn't. But he did like her company. He felt young again with her... Like he didn't have to hold up this front of indifference with her at night.

Because when the sun went down and the stars came out... It was just them in this world. Just the two of them tucked away, talking like old friends. Laughing at jokes or just things that others have done. Sometimes they would play chess together or he would listen to her play the violin or the lute while he smoked his pipe. Sometimes she would draw him thinking she was being sneaky about it. He would sit incredibly still for her.

But he definitely wasn't interested. She was just a sweet girl who he was fond of.

"I have a favor, I need to ask of you," Thorín said. Dwalín frowned at him.

"Anything. You know that."

Thorín looked worried and that put Dwalín on edge but as soon as Thorín opened his mouth, Dwalín just knew he was going to like this and that he would regret what Thorín was about to ask of him. And he did... Oh, Dwalín felt a strange sense of heavy-laden grief twist around his heart as if the world had been ripped from under him and the sun was taken away, casting him into darkness.

"Lord Nâr keeps sending her gifts and I need you to return this egg to him and ask him to stop sending her gifts." Thorín tapped the box. At Dwalín look of confusion, Thorín added solemnly, "Her heart chose Norí."

Rurín was in love with Norí?

Dwalín's mouth went dry and he had the urge to weep. Like he was some hormonal dwarfling again. It was odd for him. He hadn't wanted to cry in years. he hadn't cried since his father died. He was a grown dwarf and he was strong... And yet... Mahal... Norí?

Dwalín clenched his jaw and sniff once, took the crate off the desk and bowed his head, and left the office.

He needed a drink.

⚒️

There was an odd quietness in the home of the Durin's when Thorín told Dís about their younger sister being sick with heartache rather than a fever. Dwarves were a hardy folk and did not get sick easily but due to their sister being half-human she was suspectable to illnesses. Dís was deeply worried about Rurín when she refused to train during the last three days claiming not feeling too well and was feeling a lot better now that this was something she could care for.

So Dís had her son spend the day outside the home, with strict orders that they leave their Irak'amad alone. Perhaps their disappearance from the halls was the reason for this quietness but then there was also no sound coming from the training yard either. It was too quiet and Thorín found that unsettling.

If it wasn't his sister-sons it was Dwalín working the guards into shape. Yet he didn't hear the normal grunting or the occasional khudzul curse or banging of irons. He thought after telling Dwalín about his suspicions of Rurín's feelings for the common thief would barely cross his mind much but oddly enough it seemed to deflate his headstrong brother in arms. Dwalín had already begun drinking in the mid-morning, something entirely unusual for him.