One Soul, Two Bodies, One Love

Chapter Two

Not long after being greeted by those she hadn't seen for years, not believing how much some of them had grown (Ori was the first that she had noticed, after Fili and Kili), Faltia found herself seated between Dwalin and Dori. All around her, the others were laughing merrily and tossing food about. She couldn't help but join in. It had been so long since she had, had a proper feast and company, so she ended up enjoying her self immensely.

"Oi! Bofur!" She shouted, looking to the Dwarve with his unusual hat. "Think Bombur can catch a potato thrown from over there?" Glancing at the distance between himself and his brother, he thought for a moment before smile.

"Aye, I think he can." Looking between the two of the, Dwalin gave disbelieving laugh.

"No chance, Namad." He gave her a look. "Not from that distance."

"We shall see, Nadad." She smirked. Though she had been away for so long, she did not forget the large Dwarve's affinity for betting. It was a trait almost all of the race shared.

"Bombur," Bofur called, seeing the look in the she-Dwarve's eye. He knew she was dying to prove the younger Dwarve beside her wrong, and found himself quite pleased to help. "Catch!" Grabbing a smaller potato, he lobbed it up into the air. All those at the table watch as it sailed straight towards the large Dwarve's mouth. And they all cheered when he caught it.

"I believe," The woman laughed, elbowing her friend in the side. "I win." He simply rolled his eyes in response, though laughed, heartily.

"Aye, that you did." He nodded. "Good to see you still can't lose a bet." Her eyebrows rose in amusement at his words.

"I'll have you know, every bet I made since I left the mountains I have ended up winning." Hearing her, many of the others turned their attention. "In fact, I won my current pony from a man just outside of Rohan." There was a slight twinkle in her eyes as she said this, and it only grew as the other's urged her to tell the tale.

The she-Dwarve had always found herself with a gift similar to Balin's when it came to telling stories. When Fili and Kili were younger, she had used it to weave fantastical bedtime tales for them. Each filled with such detail, that the two young princes felt like they were actually in the world she had created. And as she told of her adventure with the stable hand in Rohan, she employed the skill to embellish it, like all good story tellers.

Sitting quietly as she told the tale, Gandalf smirk slightly. He had remembered the day she was talking about. It had just so happened, two days after she had won the pony, he had run into the very same man. Said man was still completely befuddled how a Dwarve had managed to beat him in a simple bet. The wizard's smirk only grew when he saw off in the corner, the Hobbit listening in to the tale.

As Faltia's tale came to an end, Fili chose that moment to make his way across the table. In his hands were many, many, mugs.

"Who want's an ale?" He asked, immediately handing one to his 'Aunt', upon seeing she didn't have one. "There you go." Rolling her eyes, the woman laughed but accepted the drink. Beside her, Dwalin was teasing Oin.

"Here, have another ale." He laughed, pouring the beverage into the older Dwarve's ear trumpet. This just caused those surrounding the two to laugh loudly. Once everyone had a mug in hand, Bofur proposed a toast, of sorts.

"Ale on the count of three!" All of them smashed their mugs together as the Dwarves counted down. "One, two-"

"Up!" Kili shouted, giving the single for all of them to down their drinks. While the males drank theirs rather messily, some of it going down their beards and the front of their tunics, Faltia had managed to not waste a single drop. What was more, she was one of the first done as well.