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Author Topic: Dwarves Among the Enemy, More Or Less  (Read 3544 times)

Ori

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Dwarves Among the Enemy, More Or Less
« on: March 15, 2013, 01:54:00 AM »
Ori had never dreamed he would ever step foot in the Valley of Imladris in his life, let alone be a guest in its halls. Not that it was a good thing.He secretly admired the Elves for their erudition but kept up appearances as a Dwarf on enemy territory, like Thorin. Ori nearly idolized Thorin, but despite thinking the grudge had with the Elves was for good reason, he couldn't help but admit they had a respectable amount of knowledge, which was something he could envy them. In every other aspect he still disapproved of the Elves, starting with their culinary choices (how could they ever live solely on greens? Faugh!) and ending with their haughty attitude towards them. And Rivendell was full of it. Normally, Ori would judge cities by the size of their library (which, despite being the only one he had actually been to, ranked Ered Luin quite lowly) and he wished to venture out to the archives. He had tried to remind himself that Erebor, should the archives be intact, would much more than just rival the ones in Rivendell--and according to Balin's accounts, Smaug had not even bothered to tread through them! Still, they were out of his reach, and these were not...or were they?

 That was why he seemed to be wandering the halls the afternoon of their arrival and unpleasant dinner. (There was no meat! How would he survive without a taste of venison of beef? At least Bofur had reported sausages somewhere...) He couldn't help but marvel at the way the city was made (he had been awed by the mural of Isildur's victory and wondered at the shards of Narsil) and often paused to take closer looks. He had once even looked at a terrifingly tall blonde Elf woman...and had fled the courtyard after she had turned to look at him. He passed a balcony, starting to regret going about alone in Rivendell, but who would have been eager to explore enemy territory aside from him? Dori might have, but he might have pestered him to hurry. The rest certainly wouldn't have come to--the word he sighed in his mind--babysit him while he looked around the library. If there was one of them who was open-minded about Rivendell it was their burglar, Mr. Baggins, but he seemed to be on the journey unwillingly, and he wasn't going to be bothered.

 He finally ended the corridor and turn to the left to an enormous set of open doors that he could tell by the smell was a library. Before scrambling in, pleased with his discovery, he poked his head in cautiously and looked around for any occupants. Ori's face fell when he saw six tall Elves in a group, looking at him disdainfully as if they had been expecting him (he was probably too loud) near the shelves by the door. Other than that, he would have loved the records. Two large shelves flooded the room, and a large spiral staircase led up to three more floors with even more shelves with more books. It made the Ered Luin archives look like a dingy storeroom! But he couldn't let his staggerment show. Without his slingshot he fet unprotected against the Elves. They were still sneering at him... At least when they entered the valley he was allowed to wield it without being rude!

 Instead, he walked--marched, more likely--past the sour elves with a determined look on his face. Why were they so unreasonably proud? All he was doing was looking, not stealing! He began to think abimout Erebor, what he would do once he claimed his share. He wuld work on restoring the Records until they wee the best and most extense in Middle Earth! Better than this one, at least.

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Fíli

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Dwarves Among the Enemy, More Or Less
« Reply #1 on: March 20, 2013, 02:08:00 PM »
The Valley of Imladris was breath-taking in its beauty, not that Fíli would ever willingly admit it aloud to anyone - and most especially not within earshot of Uncle Thorin.  When they had first arrived on the doorstep (before the whole palava with the Elvish hunting party arriving in and circling them so obnoxiously on their tall horses and Lord Elrond speaking to them in Elvish, as though they would understand what that flowery language translated to!) Fíli had broken away from the Company to allow his eyes rove freely over the valley, appreciating how the sunlight sparkled on the waterfalls and dappled through the leaves of the trees.  It was stunning all right and its beauty was very different to that which could be found in the Dwarven kingdoms.

It had been downhill from there.  It turned out that Elrond's seemingly threatening Elvish tone had in fact been an invitation to the most disappointing dinner that Fíli had ever had the misfortune to experience.  Everything was green, there was no meat - no ale!  No wonder Elves were so slight, living on nothing but vegetables and herbs as though they were naught but deer or rabbits.  The Elves had wine, of course, but it tasted foul to Fíli.  A shame, for if at least the wine had been satisfactory they might have passed the evening raucously, and quickly too.  Still, he realised he ought to be grateful that he at least had the fortune to be in good company... except Fíli that had now left the good company behind.  Snatching up a red apple to munch on as he walked, the young Dwarf's intention had been to scout and scavenge for something more appetising but, as he wandered, he found himself marvelling at this ornate and ancient stronghold of the Elves.  The Prince still despised them, of course, he was a Dwarf and the nephew of Thorin after all!  And it was not difficult to loathe Elves, not when they held such contempt for Dwarves, not when he knew that thousands of his kin had died at the Sack of Erebor (and, secondary to that, had deprived the Heirs of Durin of their birthright) while the cowardly Elves stood idly by, spectators to the Dwarves' suffering.  It did not help that the Elves Fíli happened across as he explored appeared to offer him lofty looks of disdain.  

To pass the time, and to entertain himself, Fíli tried to imagine what it would be like if the metaphorical shoe was on the other foot and a band of Elves turned up at Ered Luin's door.  Truthfully, Fíli did not think they would be allowed to set foot inside under any circumstances but the thought of Elves underground was amusing all the same.  Would they remain immaculate or would they find themselves smeared with dust and soot that could be found in the working tunnels and shafts?  They would surely despair at the darkness that Dwarves found so comforting, feel smothered and trapped by the stone walls that offered such safety and they would certainly be incapable of working in the mines.  Not that Fíli, as an heir of Durin, had ever worked in the mines himself – but he could if he had to and that was the main thing!

And so Fíli sauntered about, occasionally smiling to himself, crunching on the red apple that he held in his hand.  Its fresh sweetness made it by far the tastiest and most satisfying thing he had consumed since they had arrived.  Striding along one corridor, Fíli's nose was greeted by the scent of old parchment, leather and ink.  It was a scholarly smell and it reminded him of childhood lessons, of hunching over parchment whilst his bright companion Ori encouraged him.  Though Fíli was by no means an utter fool, lessons had not always come easily to him – and there were some he was certain he would never have managed to learn if not for the guidance and assistance of his young friend.  Fíli entered the large tall doorway, intending to nosey about so that he might tell Ori about this place when he saw him, and his eyes alighted first on the group of Elves who glared at him.  Fíli was not to know that he was the second Dwarf in about as many minutes to have entered their sanctuary of learning and knowledge.  With false brightness, Fíli grinned at the Elves in greeting and, with great irreverence, the Dwarf loudly crunched another bite from his apple, munching with as much noise as he could muster as he strayed further into the library.  He did briefly consider speaking to them in Khuzdul, to test them, but they could be thousands of years old - they probably spoke every language in Middle Earth, and read with ease those that had gone extinct.  How else could they fill their endless days than by learning such tripe?  

It was only a little time before Fíli's eyes caught sight of the familiar figure of a friend, the very one who he knew would be interested in this place and his blue eyes widened with delight and surprise.  “Ori!” Fíli called out with a warm smile, “I should have known you would have found this place already.  What do you make of it?  Rather impressive, eh?”  Then, leaning closer he added in a staged whisper, “A shame about all the Elves, though.”

Ori

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Dwarves Among the Enemy, More Or Less
« Reply #2 on: March 24, 2013, 02:45:00 PM »
Ori had headed inmediately to a shelf on the first floor away from the  Elves, keeping a baleful eye on them the entire time. It seemed as if his mere presence was ruining their evening! He did not care the least for their opinion, but deep down he felt insulted. He could see how Glóin had easily taken their words for insults: you never knew what to expect from these pale, queer folks. He turned his back on them as his finger browsed the books on the shelf, nothing to his interest (which was Elven geography) but it did well to annoy them. Had he been in a Dwarf palace Dori moght have chastised the life out of him for being rude and ignoring. However, he had a feeling both his brothers would approve his conduct in Rivendell as of now. He finally found something that caught his eye, The Topography of the Green Wood (he could mildly understand Elvish, but definitely not understand it out loud). Green Wood had been Mirkwood's name, he recalled, and stretching a bit, he pulled it down noisily to spite them.

 He needn't have tried, actually. He heard great, loud footsteps as no Elf could make, and an apple cruching when bitten. He repressed the urge to sigh in relief, and he turned around to look at the oncoming dwarf. It was Fíli, of all the dwarves, with a half-bitten apple in hand and a mocking grin on his face as he stamped past the snotty elves ungracefully, and Ori smiled from their absurd faces. “Ori!” called out Fíli amiably, and he was reminded of evenings when Dori suggested he take over from him at tutoring the royal siblings, a task he had dutifully if mot enthusiastically carried out. Neither had found it easy to begin with, but Ori had been patient and high-spirited about the task. Fíli's eyes went to the library in general as he next spoke. “I should have known you would have found this place already. What do you make of it? Rather impressive, eh?” Ori was tempted to say what was on his mind, that it was a splendid library and ut was enormously grand, but unlike Bofur, he could learn to hokd his tongue...sometimes. He said nothing as Fíli continued in a loud fake whisper, “A shame about all the Elves, though.”

 Ori laughed (which was not completely staged). "A shame indeed," he replied wholeheartedly in a similar whisper. Then, a little more quietly, with a returned disdainful glance at the Elf party, "I might as well have been stealing something to get this sort of greeting."

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Fíli

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Dwarves Among the Enemy, More Or Less
« Reply #3 on: April 05, 2013, 10:45:00 PM »
“Don't you mind them, Ori.” Fíli responded good-naturedly, clapping a reassuring hand to his friend's shoulder, “As a scholar and a reader you have every right to be in this harborage of knowledge, even if they don't care to see it that way.”  Fíli's eyes followed Ori's gaze back to the drove of Elves, some of whom had their pale, ageless faces turned in the Dwarves' direction whilst the others bowed their heads and whispered to one another.  Fíli would bet a generous fistful of gold coins that their comments were disparaging and, though he smirked, he also snorted his disapproval.  “Stealing though?  Now there's an idea.” Fíli muttered, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.  Of course he had no intention of lifting anything but the pointed ears of Elves were sharp, greedy for input, and the young Dwarf rather hoped that his low utterance had carried to them.  Let that put the wind up them!  Perhaps Nori, undeniably the most light-fingered of their Company, would do them all proud and claim something belonging to the Elves for himself.  But what was there to take?  Leaves?  Some fancy robes that would make even a spoilt Dwarf maiden roll her eyes?  Pshaw!

Taking another loud bite of his juicy apple, and crunching happily, Fíli paused to smile and wave imperiously at the Elves who still stared in their direction, before turning his attention to the books that surrounded them.  With his free hand he lifted one leather-bound article from the shelf, turning it so that he could first see the cover and then manipulating it in his hand so that it fell open in his broad palm.  Immediately, Fíli's nose wrinkled in unsurprised disapproval, for the text inside was written in Elvish and was thus entirely indecipherable to him.  The Prince snapped the book shut and carefully slid it back into its rightful place.

“A terribly frivolous-looking script, is Elvish,” Fíli commented before adding with a lopsided, boyish grin, “Much like the race it belongs to, I suppose.”  He really would have to stop with the slights (or make them considerably less frequent) lest he find himself unceremoniously dumped on his backside on the apparently Warg-ridden borders of Rivendell.  Resolving to at least try to behave like a visiting dignitary, Fíli hoped to move away from the subject of their strange hosts.  “Have you found anything of interest, Ori?”  Fíli asked, keen eyes dancing over the books once more.  His young friend would be able to glean far more from them than he ever would and Fíli could not help but admire Ori for that.

Ori

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Dwarves Among the Enemy, More Or Less
« Reply #4 on: April 06, 2013, 08:36:00 PM »
“Don't you mind them, Ori.” answered Fíli reassuringly, and Ori nodded. “As a scholar and a reader you have every right to be in this harborage of knowledge, even if they don't care to see it that way.” In Ori's opinion, the Elves couldn't accept the fact that they were not the only race of Middle-Earth that desired erudition. It was degrading to be part of a race that mostly cared only for riches of the earth  (not that he had anything against that either). Then Fíli whispered to him, “Stealing though? Now there's an idea.” Ori couldn't help looking twice at his friend in shock at the idea. Being the brother of a thief he shouldn't have been so scandalized by the idea of carrying off books from Elves. Instead, he felt like it was one point he would never reach. Ori couldn't tell if Fíli actually meant business by it. He probably did, as he and his brother were prone to the mischief he himself would have loved to exercise had he not been mollycoddled and guarded by Dori so closely.

Fíli waved at the Elves mockingly, and Ori suppressed a laugh at the disdainful but confused looks on the elves' faces--for a moment. Fíli reached out for a book himself, and opened it in his hands. Ori kept a close eye on his friend, unsure of what he was going to do next. An unreasonable panic that he was going to damage the book was beginning to take hold of him. Fíli just made a face at the Elvish script inside. Ori, having only a handful of Elvish works read in the archives at Ered Luin (he knew them like the back of his hand) knew how to decipher some symbols and overall read over them, but never actually read fluently. He didn't blame Fíli for his discomfort at all. It was certainly very different to the familiar Khuzdul script they were used to reading.

“A terribly frivolous-looking script, is Elvish. Much like the race it belongs to, I suppose,” remarked Fíli, and Ori smiled in spite of disagreeing with the comment itself. Elves weren't frivolous, simply haughty and overly arrogant, but he couldn't help but grin at a jab at the elves themselves. He began to nervously consider if they were listening at all, because after all what was keeping the Elves from sending them back out there without a proper rest? His eyes were diverted to a bookshelf a few paces away from them, and the spine of the books caught his attention. They were in...Khuzdul! Why would the Elves have Dwarven works in their archives? “Have you found anything of interest, Ori?” said Fíli, trying to change the subject. Ori went straight to the bookshelf in mild curiosity, and the elves' eyes were on him immediately. He made an involuntary grimace of concentration as heis eyes scanned the spines, and opened one on a whim.

ooc; What should the books be about?

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Fíli

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Dwarves Among the Enemy, More Or Less
« Reply #5 on: May 02, 2013, 09:00:00 AM »
Books were not friends of Fíli, not really.  Of course as a Dwarfling he had revelled in having stories read to him (what child did not?) and, when he was old enough, he had read them himself.  First with his nose mere inches away from the page, his young face scrunched up with the effort of deciphering the letters, identifying the words and decoding their meaning.  Over the years, with considerable practice, it became easier but the material that most interested the Prince had forever remained the same – that of war and great battles.  These tales of honour, conquest and victory submerged Fíli in the adventures that he longed for so desperately.  With a book, he could stand tall amongst the heroes of his kin, hear the clatter of sword against shield and feel the deep rumble of a Dragon's fearsome roar reverberate in the cavity of his chest as the metallic smell of spilt blood filled his nostrils.  There was no denying that there was a certain magic in that.  As to his studies, Fíli had always tried his very best, hating to disappoint his uncle, his mother or the wise Balin.  Even then it was mostly the history of his kin that interested him, that which bolstered his pride in his brethren and intensified his hatred of the Orcs (and distrust of Elves).  But Fíli did not love books, not in the same way that Ori and Aesa did, and he would choose music and swordplay over them any day.  In fact, as the Prince grew his focus moved almost entirely to training with weapons and exploring Ered Luin – and his texts were left to gather dust.  After all, why would he read of adventures when he was, at last, living them instead?

It was a surprise to Fíli, then, that upon following Ori's gaze and noticing the spines adorned with familiar, comforting Khuzdûl, a fierce sort of protectiveness, almost possessiveness, arose in him.  Khuzdûl, the secret language of the Dwarves, was kept closely guarded and thus any texts written in it ought to be in a Dwarvish library, not in one reeking of Elves!  Frowning, Fíli followed Ori to the bookshelf and also lifted down a book, opening it to read.  Keen blue eyes skimmed effortlessly over the words.

“This one speaks of the murder of our kin in Doriath by order of the Elven King.”  Fíli said, his voice low, feeling small under the weight of such history and tremendously irked at what he had learned to be a terrible betrayal of his ancestors.  “Though we had our costly vengeance in the Battle of the Thousand Caves... ah, but this leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”  Indeed, Fíli cast a discontented look at the glossy red apple in his other hand, the flavour of it now bringing him little pleasure.  He put the book back on the shelf, perhaps a little hesitantly, for why on Middle Earth did the Elves have this in their possession?  His earlier tomfoolery about thieving suddenly seemed less of a joke but Fíli would not risk the Company being cast out of Rivendell, even if the books were theirs by rights – just like Nauglamír!  The young Dwarf lifted down another, only to find that it detailed the awakening of Durin the Deathless at Mount Gundabad.  “Durin...” Fili breathed the name of his forefather, the word sounding holy coming from his lips.  Shaking his golden head a little, feeling unsettled to find such literature in an Elvish stronghold, Fíli also returned this book to the shelf and turned to Ori.  “What is written in yours?”

(OOC: I'm not actually sure if the Dwarves would know the truth of the events or no but I am guessing not as this event was one of the reasons for the mistrust between Elves and Dwarves – please correct me if I cam wrong though!)

Ori

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Dwarves Among the Enemy, More Or Less
« Reply #6 on: May 18, 2013, 05:11:00 PM »
Fíli looked as baffled as he was with the appearance of works written in Khûzdul in an Elven library. Sindarin and other Elven languages were not as privy to the Elves as Khûzdul was to the dwarves. It felt wrong to see a dwarves book written in their language in a library of their worst enemies--well, not enemies, he tried to correct himself, but he could feel the irritation and impatience towards the elves as any other Dwarf did. How dare they take a Dwarven work of art! He betook himself to the book he had chosen, and was not surprised to see a Geography manuscript before him. Elves, though not as much as Men, knew the land far and wide of Middle Earth and recorded their knowledge in their travels. Dwarves were less adventurous than this, mostly being ensnared in their businesses, which, in Ori's point of view, was not very dignified. His gaze drifted to a long and flowery description of the city of Lindon, if his Elvish script was correct. He had been frowned upon at the Archives for striving to learn the Elvish language and script, but he had not been further pursued for this betrayal under the promise that all knowledge was good for one.

“This one speaks of the murder of our kin in Doriath by order of the Elven King,” said Fíli suddenly when he opened a book for himself, and Ori's amazed eyes went to his friend and the book he held. That was certainly Khûzdul, and he could easily read the passage it described, and immediately scowled. “Though we had our costly vengeance in the Battle of the Thousand Caves... ah, but this leaves a bad taste in my mouth.” Ori was utterly tempted to snatch the book from Fíli and hold it to himself, then take it when they left the library and the city. Elves had no business holding these books in their possession! Did they not believe in what was rightfully theirs? But of course not. Fíli ended his wild fantasy by shoving the book back into place. The elves were once again looking their way, but now Ori wanted to scowl at them more than anything. Another quiet exclamation from Fíli interrupted his train of thought. “Durin…” he whispered, and at the sound of the name of the dwarves' deathless ancestor he placed the book back and began to look over to Fíli. Ori knew how Thorin, Fíli and Kíli were the remnants of Durin's line alongside Dáin of the Iron Hills. He envied them so much that--all the claim the Ris would ever have was merely being of Dúrin's Folk, and being Longbeards, obviously. Lineage had ever so much to do with how your life was spent. Another indicator of why their Quest would be succesful: they had the line of Durin with them!

"What is written in yours?” said Fíli, and Ori looked back to the book he had just placed back in its shelf and shook his head. "Some geography manuscript," he answered. He was still doleful over the presence of dwarven book in an Elvish library. "I wonder, though, if Nori would be able to take these for our own," mused Ori out loud in Khûzdul.

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Fíli

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Dwarves Among the Enemy, More Or Less
« Reply #7 on: May 22, 2013, 03:29:00 PM »
The Prince followed Ori's gaze to the Elves and this time Fíli, feeling silly and bold despite his fury and discomfort at discovering the Dwarvish texts, blew them a kiss with a lopsided smirk.  Their looks of disgust and horror made his nose wrinkle with amusement.  Apparently Elves were not partial to Dwarvish kisses!

Geography... maps... ugh.  A sorry yet necessary field of study when it came to exploring wider Middle Earth!  It was one that Fíli was practised at, of course, but still it was one that too readily reminded him of the academia of his youth, of being hunched over musty, fusty, mouldy maps, forever reading of adventures and never actually having one.  Ah, he could so easily recall the frustration as though it were yesterday!  But now they were on the wide road, headed for Erebor - of all wondrous places.  And why, they ought to make the most of this adventure whilst they had the opportunity.  Thus, with Ori's mention of Nori, Fíli flashed a wide, roguish grin at his friend.

“I like your thinking, my friend,” Fíli responded, also in the secretive and harsh tones of Khûzdul.  He reached out, his vambraces creaking with the movement, to trace calloused fingertips carefully over the seemingly ancient leather that bound the book which had spoken of Durin the Deathless, his illustrious  forefather.  It was a slight to his noble memory for such a text to languish in the library of Elves!  A calm certainty settled over the Prince in that moment, a determination that they would have these books in their possession when they left Rivendell.  “And if Nori cannot be convinced then I shall lift them myself.  What is the worst they will do?  Cut off my hand?  I would like to see them try!”  It was not that Fíli wilfully intended, or desired, to cause any further tension between his kin and the Elves, or that he had any particular interest in thievery.  Stealing never crossed the mind of the Prince who had been raised, seemingly, with everything – though what he had in Ered Luin was a pale shadow of what would have been at his disposal if he had been born and raised in Erebor.  But Fíli had not known that life, had not known what he missed.  Not in the way that his uncle Thorin knew.

(OOC:  Shall we ask if Zilla wants to join in this thread?  Stealing from the Elvish library could be good fun – Fíli and Ori can provide a diversion!)

Ori

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« Reply #8 on: July 01, 2013, 04:24:00 PM »
“I like your thinking, my friend,” answered Fíli in Khûzdul, and Ori grinned, although the smile fell instants later. Dori did really mean something when he meant Nori was a bad influence on him. He would have never have thought of stealing anything in his life before…but, he reminded himself, when they were dwarves relics sitting in the library of their enemies, something had to be done, urgently. They would probably never pass through Rivendell again, so why not take advantage they were here to take what was theirs for their own? Fíli groped the spine of the book with the illustration of Dúrin the Deathless, then he said again in Khûzdul, “And if Nori cannot be convinced then I shall lift them myself. What is the worst they will do? Cut off my hand? I would like to see them try!”

This particular sentence worried Ori into rebuking him. "But…we are dependent on their care as of now, Fíli," he reminded his friend, still in Khûzdul. Then his eyes wandered to the books on the shelf, and once again his dwarfish nature made a comeback; he pursed his lips as he squirmed at the thought of these books forever languishing under enemy hands that would keep them not as a source of information (seeing as they did not know Khûzdul) but as a prize from battles gone by. It felt entirely wrong to leave them here, and he had to concede with Fíli's point. "Although I doubt Nori would refuse to lift anything that rightfully belongs to us, especially when it is under Elven care," he mused, and he could not help to glance back at the still staring Elves.

[ooc; Zilla is still MIA but we can invite her over if you like! Sounds great to me! You can PM her here and if she doesn't respond I can resort to Tumblr as a last case resort.]

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Fíli

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Dwarves Among the Enemy, More Or Less
« Reply #9 on: July 29, 2014, 06:31:00 PM »
(OOC:  OK, so I don't know if you know, but I'm afraid Zilla has dropped Nori. :(  Do you want us to continue the thread and have these two try their hand at thieving or would you rather we moved it in another direction?  Or we could mark it as complete on the assumption they couldn't find Nori and didn't have the courage to lift the books themselves?  Whatever you think!)

All of a sudden, Ori's grin disappeared and a look of uncertainty stole over his features.  There was concern in his observation, truth in his quiet rebuke, but Fíli only arched an eyebrow confidently.  Dependent on the care of Elves they were, aye, but not for long!  Still, if they were to lift these volumes, they had best not be caught – otherwise they would risk displeasing Thorin.  Truthfully the prince was much less concerned for the feelings of their hosts.

Fíli's hand dropped away from the spine of the ancient book and offered a wide reassuring smile, pleased as Ori admitted that his brother was not likely to refuse given that the books were, to all intents and purposes, already theirs.  The prince was not sure if Nori had ever stolen anything scholarly before, as far as he knew the light-fingered Dwarf was more interested in gold, jewels and other treasures of more obvious monetary value.  Still, with any luck he would lend them his skills and see the books returned to rightful ownership.

“Come then,”  Fíli replied, still speaking in Khûzdul as he clapped a hand to Ori's shoulder, “Let's find your brother and get this business taken care of.”  With that, and another wide grin at the staring Elves, the golden-haired prince made for the doorway.

Ori

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Dwarves Among the Enemy, More Or Less
« Reply #10 on: November 23, 2014, 07:00:00 PM »
“Come then,” said then Fíli, as he placed a hand on his shoulder encouragingly. While he knew of the prince brothers’ love for adventure and excitement, Ori still looked a little surprised that he was willing to fall into this sneaky plot to lift...their books! Of course he would. Ori nodded, but he was still trembling a little. From excitement, most likely. He...wasn’t afraid at all of what the elves would do if they found out. Yes! He couldn’t be. He wasn’t out in the world to be a coward. Ori was here to do the dwarven ancestry and honor by reclaiming Erebor...and maybe, also by taking these stolen books. “Let's find your brother and get this business taken care of.”

And the prince immediately led the way out the library, with an infuriating grin to the Elves. Ori did not look so comfortable with the mischief, but he managed a shaky smile and a respectful nod to the passerbys. Soon it was only them on the marble halls of Rivendell, past the beautifully arranged gardens and fountains. When the two could only hear their leather boots on the stone, Ori supplied, this time in common tongue, “I think I last saw Nori in the gazebo where we were given dinner when we first came. Did you see him anywhere else?”

Further into their search, he couldn’t help but stammering out his thoughts. “I guess I’m a little nervous...but...after all, we are entitled to this. And there’s no way we can lose. I thought I heard Thorin discussing that we might be leaving a little sooner than the wizard would want to. Because, after all, why would he want to stay longer? I mean, I don’t really mind. It is rather...exotic. But, I mean, the sooner we set off, the better. I trust Thorin’s judgement. Okay, I should stop talking.” He was probably going to blurt out the plan to lift the books. Oh, why was he so nervous? He was supposed to be enjoying himself!

[ooc: Well, now that Dûthel is in it, should we ask when Nori cuts in?]

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