Chapter Text

Don't Ask Me Why

Chapter 1: Right by Your Side

Ori looked carefully around at the sleeping dwarves and - making sure that everyone sharing Mr.Baggins’s guest room with him was deeply asleep - pulled one of his mitts down. He looked at his wrist and took a deep breath. The hobbit hole was comfortably warm and he had gotten some strange looks when he insisted on sleeping with his mitts on but there was no other way how to hide a sprained wrist from his overly-protective brothers.

He moved his hand a little. It hurt and by now was badly swollen. He sighed again, this is what you get when somebody unexpectedly opens the door and you have a bunch of dwarves fall on top of  you. Most importantly Bombur. Ori didn’t even notice he hurt himself until he tried to get up. The moment he leaned on his right hand pain ran through him. 

He just had time to think that he mustn’t let his brothers know unless he wanted unnecessary fuss and everyone looking at him like he was a useless child. Again. A child who gets hurt before the adventure even begins.

But then suddenly Bombur flew away from him and Ori looked up to see that he was roughly picked up and pushed aside by Dwalin. Master Dwalin. The Mister Dwalin. The last one to whom he wanted to look like a baby. Dwalin stood above him frowning as usual. Ori jerked his injured hand from the floor and shoved it behind his back. If it has started swelling already... well, he wasn’t going to let anyone know.

Dwalin’s gaze followed Ori’s strange movement but he didn’t comment in any way. Instead he bent down, grabbed Ori by the shoulders, straightened him up and turned to greet Gandalf. Ori gazed at the floor where he still had his bag, pain in hand forgotten. The only sensation currently reaching his mind was the tingle on his shoulders where Dwalin held him... Dwalin’s strong warrior hands... Holding him... And looking at him somehow... Ori couldn’t describe the look in Dwalin’s eyes...

'You all right there, laddie?' Bombur’s voice beside him.

Ori blinked rapidly, returning back to reality, immediately turning red. He must stop getting into these daydreams. Out there in the wild it could cost him or someone else a life. Yes, definitely, he must stop that. But the thing was... it happened to him more often when Master Dwalin was around. He couldn’t help it. Around the older dwarf he always felt so confused.

He had decided some time ago, that it was because he wanted to be more like the warrior. He wanted to be as strong and courageous as him. Just as brave. People do get nervous around their object of admiration, don’t they? Yes, that must be it.

'Yes,' he answered to Bombur who helped him collect his bags. He was suddenly glad about his injured hand. Master Dwalin has many scars and he had been injured many times. He wouldn’t fuss about a sprained wrist. He wouldn’t let his brothers nurse the injury and treat him like a child. Well, neither would he then! The older dwarf will never know about his bravery like this, of course, but Ori himself will feel one step closer to deserving Dwalin’s approval. His spirit much elevated by this thought, he smiled and followed Bombur into the hobbit’s kitchen.

It was a nice evening, they ate, sang, told stories of old and with the only exception of Mr. Baggins refusing to be their burglar, all went well. Soon after midnight they scattered across the hobbit hole and prepared for sleep. It was only then when Ori remembered his hand and insisted on keeping his mitts.  Naturally he got strange looks and ended up on the floor between Nori and Dori, with Oin and Gloin behind their heads.

Ori sat there for a while, thinking, his hand hurting more and more. Finally, after reaching the decision that even Master Dwalin surely didn’t leave his injuries unattended, he crept out of his cloak and then out of the room in search of cold water to ease the heat that was currently spreading through his wrist. Ice would be nice, but he didn’t know whether Mr. Baggins had any. He stopped by the door leading to the hobbit’s bedroom and considered for a minute waking him but then decided that the poor lad had had enough today and deserved his rest.

He sneaked into the kitchen, stepping over Bofur, who was snoring loudly on the kitchen’s carpet, his head on one of his brothers legs as Bombur was currently sleeping under the table. Ori looked around but there was no water. Not cold one at least. And then he remembered that he had seen a barrel in the garden. There was bound to be some rain water and it was rather cold outside earlier...

He opened the main door quietly and stepped outside, spotting the barrel immediately.

'Where you off to?'

Poor Ori nearly jumped out of his skin as a voice spoke in total darkness. He turned around and saw that there was a tiny bench right under one of the windows. And there sat none other then Dwalin, smoking a pipe. Ori felt his own heart pounding louder then anything. He simply knew that Master Dwalin must hear it too. He suddenly wondered if there will ever come time when he will feel like anything else than nothing next to the warrior.

'Well?' Dwalin prompted in his rough voice.

'To...' Ori pointed to the barrel, then stopped himself realizing that he couldn’t  possibly tell Dwalin. Dammit, dammit, dammit. This most definitely wasn’t his day. 'Um...'

Dwalin sat looking at him for a while, then set his pipe aside, stood up and walked towards Ori. With an unexpected and fast motion he reached for his hand. 'Your hand still hurts, huh?' He brought the little dwarf’s wrist to his eyes. Ori winced at the anticipated pain but it didn’t hurt at all. Dwalin’s huge calloused hands held his tiny one incredibly gently. He had warm arms. So warm. Ori wondered why it never occured to him, that Dwalin’s skin is also warm. Like his. Well, it is to be expected, really. They are both dwarves, both alive, both m... He realized Dwalin was asking him someting so he raised his eyes to his questioningly.

'I asked why you didn’t ask anyone to treat it for you?' Ori was pretty sure to hear impatience with him in Dwalin’s voice but there was nothing like that there. There was only concern. For him? For the well-being  of the company surely. Any injury would slow them down. He didn’t want that. He didn’t realize...

'I’m sorry,' he lowered his eyes to where Dwalin’s hands were holding his. 'It... it doesn’t hurt that much, not at all, really...'

'Humph,' Dwalin barely grunted and turned to the barrel, leading the little dwarf with him. Getting Ori’s sleeve out of the way, he slowly immersed his hand in the cold water. Ori gasped at the comfort it brought. Bliss. The pain slowly fading away.

'Well, we can’t have you standing here all night with one hand in a barrel, ' said Dwalin suddenly and disappered through the door. He was back before Ori could even think about where he has gone. He held a bottle of some ointment. He took Ori’s hand out of water, dried it carefully and equally carefully applied the ointment. Then took a mitt that Ori was still clutching in his other hand and slowly pulled it on.

'There, that should do. The ointment doesn’t smell, so even Dori won’t be able to sniff it out and ask you about it.'

'T-Thank you,' Ori choked out. He was overhelmed. Master Dwalin treated his injury, he even knew that Ori didn’t want his brothers to know.

They stood like that for a while, side by side, until Dwalin turned, picked up his pipe and headed for the door.

 'But Master Dwalin!' Ori called and the warrior stopped and half turned, 'How did you know? About my hand? '

Dwalin turned to fully look at him, frowning. 'I do notice things, lad. You trying to hide them from me won’t do you much good. Do not think for one second that I do not notice.'

Ori staggered back one step, feeling his heart stop under the older dwarf’s fixed gaze. There was something in the way he said it... Surely Master Dwalin is only speaking about his hand. He cannot mean... He couldn’t possibly know...

But Ori knew. Deep down, he knew perfectly well why he was always so confused around Dwalin. Why his heart raced faster than anything else in this world when the warrior looked at him, talked to him. He kept telling himself that it was because he admired him so much but he knew... He could never admit... such thing was... Dwalin kept gazing at him in the darkness. Could he know? Was he merely talking about Ori hiding his arm from him earlier or did he notice something else as well? Something that Ori also tried to hide from him?

'You... you won’t tell my brothers, right?' He felt a sudden quiver of panic. If his brothers knew? What would they think? What would-

'Why would I?' there was a strangely kind expression on Dwalin’s face before he turned to walk through the round doors, 'get some sleep, laddie.'

And with that he was gone, leaving Ori more confused than ever.