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Ori paced around the back galley of his families stately home, the clear marble walls and trickling fountains around him now appearing to be the drowning decent of his own destruction, one that would show sooner than he could even know. His family home and land was once a rich a fertile place, importing wine to the far reaches of the land and receiving great wealth for all the trade. However, now that years had passed and the lives of his parents did also, Ori found himself alone on the estate with his eldest brother merchandising their final wine stocks in the south shores to keep their home and his second eldest brother fighting in a remote land. This just left Ori, alone in his families tomb and in the hands of merciless Captain Smaug, a cruel and greedy man that had grown cold because, while he was alive, he was their fathers greatest councilmen and heir to the estate when his father passed.
Years rolled forward into a decade and with the untimely death of their mother, followed sadly by their father passing from heartache, Smaug took control of the estate. Now, with the crops dying and water running in low supply Smaug had no choice but to sell off all he could of the Risonary home and all of its possessions. Including the families most beloved treasure. Their youngest son.
A trade behind Ori's back had occurred, one that would marry him to a barbarian of the open plain. In return, Smaug would receive golden objects to turn into coin because the barbarians did not believe in finance, they took all that they wanted. For Ori, Smaug would also receive the backing of five hundred barbarian men to take him to the more prosperous lands of the south, where he would conquer and kill many who stood in his way and make his fortune, all on the back of Ori's unwanted marriage.
"Now, now, what is this?"
Ori stopped his pacing and looked up to see Smaug leaning in the archway of Ori's rightful home, smirking as he knew their was nothing the boy could do to either move him off the arch or move him away from this marriage.
"You'll work yourself into a horrible mess if you keep running around like that, and besides," Smaug stepped forward and straightened Ori's white transparent gown, cupping his chin after the moment passed. "We want you looking your best for your husband don't we?"
Ori could say nothing, could do nothing, for when his father signed the estate over to Smaug, he signed away Ori's voice and rights with it. Ori could only stand firm and try not to fly into a rage at the man who sought so desperately to trap him. He never knew that Ori was truly a free spirit, one that had been trapped so long like a crocked grape vine reaching for the sun.
"Don't we?" Smaug hissed as he gripped Ori's chin tighter.
A sigh.
A moments pause.
A swallowing of bitter acid in his throat.
"We do."
The voice was not Ori's own. It was not the voice that he once knew and certainly not the one his parents would recall if they lived to see him pass the delicate age of sixteen.
Smaug grinned.
"That's my boy." Smaug soothed and kissed the boys forehead, Ori closed his eyes at the touch and tried not to think of the image of Smaug's bodiless form on a spike high above his family home for the crows to pick at. "You know if you were not so valuable, and not wanted pure, I would have had you in my bed and as my bride long ago."
Ori's head rose now, his tongue forming a sharp fork at the top of his mouth, ready to finally put this ill thinking man in his place and once more be - Another cleared their throat.
"My lord, he arrives."
Ori looks over Smaug's tall shoulder to see the usual servants that scuttled around the house dressed in soft crimson rags, visible targets for Smaug's ill timed tantrums. Beside him, there was a grey haired and bearded man, one with dark wrinkles of the sun beneath his eyes and a tan to match his obviously extroverted existence.
"Lord Ori, is it?" The man asked with a smile and a bow, hand outstretched to shake Ori's, but as Ori reached for it in return Smaug stepped in front of him.
"Excuse me, whoever-you-are, he is no more a lord than I am a glazed ham, so please refrain from referring to him as such." Smaug stated clearly, keeping his hot temper to a mild scold and the grey haired man looked up at the cocky lord with a raised brow.
"He will be a lord soon enough, if he was not already, when my brother sees him fit." The grey man stated and Smaug weakened into a slouch.
"Br - brother? - Master Dwalin is-"
"Here and waiting upon your deliverance. I am Balin, his brother and translator. Trust me when I say, it is best not to keep him waiting, my brother is not as patient as I am." Ori could tell the man had a soft heart, a devilish glint in his elderly eyes as he watched Smaug squirm like a gutless grub. "Now, who is this young man?"
"This is Ori, your brothers bribe."
"Do you not mean bride?" Balin asked with a subtly raised brow.
"Are they not the same thing?" Smaug snorted and Ori could see the elder man frown.
"Indeed not." Balin replied in grave seriousness and Smaug nodded helplessly before the elder man smiled again,trying to keep up the rigid act of being sincere for as long as he could." Now, you go onward and see to it my brother and his men get refreshments. I will make myself acquainted with the boy."
Smaug could only nod again before he clicked at the servant still lingering in the doorway to follow as he swept off, shoulders hunched in compressed rage. Ori smirked as he watched the tempered man walk away before he noticed an arm outstretched before him and saw the elder man attached to it, smiling humbly and nodding like a friend. Ori took the arm with his own and allowed himself to be led.
"Tell me now boy, what do you think of this marraige?" Balin promptly asked as they walked and Ori shrugged slightly.
"I do not think of this marriage. It merely sits in the back of my mind, like a bad dream or a pustular ulcer fit to burst."
Balin laughed and nodded with a smile.
"Such colourful language on a young boy. I cannot say my brother will be displeased, he is strange."
"I hear all your people are strange." Balin looked at him with a raised brow and Ori quickly fluttered his jaw, trying to find more endearing words. "I did not mean that so crudely, I simply wished to comment on what Smaug told me. Your people they - they ride horses, yes? You are a travelling type of people."
"Aye, we are indeed lad. Do you know how to ride a horse?"
Ori shrugged slightly and sighed.
"My father once taught me when I was a boy, I was quite an adept rider. Then Smaug sold my Chessers away, he was a beautiful horse, the purest white with grey ridges on his nose. I'm afraid Smaug sold much of my cherished belongings."
Even my hand.
It did not have to be said, for Balin saw the ache in the young boys heart and soul and knew that had circumstances been different, Ori would not choose this life. Balin thought to himself then, he knew his brother was not the most civilised nor the most educated man in the world, their father had plans for Balin as the eldest to be his negotiator and Dwalin to be the warrior, that's the way it had always been. Balin thought perhaps Ori would be well suited for his brother, a light to dark pattern with twice the brawn and the beauty. Perhaps it would be a successful agreement after all.
Balin said none of this of course and only nodded with a soft smile.
"Well, I suppose we'll have to get you a horse soon lad. I'm certain you still have a riders structure inside of you." Balin commented and Ori smiled slightly before he realised he was outside of his home and entering the opening light of day. At the end of the stairs was a gathering of five men on horseback, the horses circling in annoyance at the warm sun and some shoving their heads in the trickling fountains.
Balin stepped forward with arms outstretched to greet his brother with a changed tone and a language that was foreign to Ori's young ears. Ori stepped down a step to follow when Smaug grabbed his arm and pulled him close to whisper in his ear.
"You see that one there, in the front."
Ori quickly scanned the crowd again and saw the thickly tanned and brutishly muscled man at the front of the pack on the back of a darkened horse. The man was large with broad shoulders and bountiful tattoos laid across every inch of his arms and upper torso, even a few scattered on his bare crown, a littering of piercings stood adjacent in his ears and Ori saw one particular piercing glinting at him through thick chest hair and blackening ink.
"When the Dwarian people win in battle or conquer in combat they receive tattoos retelling the tale in their oh - so - sacred language. Dwalin has never lost a fight. He's a savage, I'll grant you that, but he will give me all I want, when you are his bride and he your husband."
Ori swallowed thickly and felt his skin rise with fear at very idea and Balin turned to them in that moment, a kind and patient smile one his lips.
"Ori lad, will you come forward, please?"
Ori did as was commanded and stepped forward, suddenly extremely aware of how transparent his robe was as it fluttered in the breeze and swung around his strict curves. Balin smiled in an attempt to comfort the boy but Ori was past the realm of comfort as he stepped past and when bare foot met soft soil he looked up at his would be husband.
He lifted his head with some attempt at pride and the man looked him over as Ori could barely manage a smile, his eyes completely stuck on the imposing man in front of him who looked him up and down with a blank face, not revealing a single thought.
The man gave him a final roaming look before he looks at his brother, grunts once, then turns his horse to around and kicks his side to gallop away, leaving Ori's trance to break and look at the floor in contempt of himself.
"Where is he going?" Smaug hissed as he swept down the stairs with a scowl. "He didn't say anything. Did he approve?"
"Believe me, Master Smaug. If my brother did not approve of him, we would know." Balin replied and that calmed Smaug slightly as Balin approached Ori and placed a soft hand on his arm. "Fear not lad, I'll talk with him tonight. Farewell for now."
Balin quickly set across the sand path and jumped on a chestnut horse, nodding once to Smaug and Ori before kicking his horse and following the disturbed path of the men. It was no less than three hours later that they received the decision, Dwalin had accepted the terms of the arrangement, Smaug would receive the backing of his men as an army to the southern lands and Ori would be his payment.
----
Ori was raised in a highly religious home, his mother had taught him and his brothers the ancient scriptures and all those tales of right and wrong while his father had taught them academia and battle strategy. When he was a boy he imagined his wedding in a peaceful temple in a dark robe and decorated in golden chains, a proper feast with decadent fruit and nuts would be held after and he would dance with his partner beneath the moonlight on the warm spring air. However, what he dreamt of and his reality was so far apart that he himself could not even have imagined it.
The Dwarian race did not have the time, like a young Ori once did, to read scriptures and follow the ways of the old gods. They were travelling constantly and any celebration must be fast to fit with their rigid travels, since it was the first day of the autumn months they rested, fed their horses and prepared their children for a winters travel. Ori's wedding was shoved between those events.
Ori sat awkwardly at the side of his husband, noticing how pathetically small he was compared to the large and muscled frame of his husband. Dwalin ate with gluttonous hunger and drank with the same vigour and Balin at on Ori's other side would smile at the boy occasionally and spoke of some of their traditions. Ori could also see the annoyed looks Balin shot toward his brother and spoke to him in a sharp and foreign tongue that he did not understand. Smaug sat beside Balin, clearly unimpressed with the barbaric traditions and displays of such extreme entertainment, a man blew fire as a girl danced around him and licked the flames. A fight broke out and Dwalin grinned with glee, two men circled each other, daggers drawn and darkened teeth glimmering like fangs. It was a short fight, the taller man taking stock of the mans shorter frame to grab him from behind and slit his throat, the dark spray hitting the floor in front of the newly wed couple as a blessing to their marriage. Dwalin was appreciative, while Ori was still and feeling light-headed.
"It is a gift to your marriage, all the best unions have a challenge at their wedding. A freshly killed soul cleanses the air of evil spirits." Balin explained in the common tongue as the people cheered the winner of the fight and continued to dance. Some returned to gorging themselves on the roasted heads of goats and breasts of wild fried birds.
"Barbaric." Smaug hissed and Ori remained silent, he did not want to shame Smaug but nor did he wish to shame his peoples traditions. He was quick to remain in a passive state, and the only ones to notice his silent state was his husband and Balin, who looked on curiously.
As the sun began to set, Ori got to his feet. Both Balin and Dwalin rose with him with inherited politeness, and Smaug still sat and looked on in distaste.
"No, no please sit. I only wish to find a tent for the night, or our tent I suppose." Ori explained and Balin nodded once to him before repeating it to Dwalin in their language, Dwalin looked curious and bowed his head as he spoke before he sat again.
"Dwalin said he will join you after the feast." Balin stated and Ori felt his face and stomach drop like they were chained in falling together and Balin smiled a bit as Dwalin nodded to his husband, Ori turned and walked away, feeling all eyes on him as he navigated the path where Balin had directed him earlier that day. Smaug smirked knowingly and was clearly pleased that the boy was fulling his plan as well as his husbands. Ori felt ill.
The walk was silent and thick with a fearful tension that Ori knew himself he was emitting, the larger man had only made sounds to direct Ori early on, when moving him in front of the mans horse and Balin to exchange vows and had only said a handful of clipped words to his brother, who recited them to Ori, during the whole ceremony. And now, now Ori would be expected to bed with the large and silent man with his straining consent or not, he could not escape. The path grew narrow. He thought of his future and his rights as he reached the light of the deserted camp.
Balin had explained earlier that the tribe would never marry in the same place as they lived and never under the same night as their final days rest in autumn. It is bad luck he had said dismissively, waving the boy away, a wedding is a time of new change and new beginnings, this is where we live the following days and nights, it would not be suitable.
Ori wished it had not been tradition, perhaps then he would have been able to marry in his own lands and in the house of his family instead of on the cliff of a grassland just above the cackling sea.
Dwalin's tent was the largest in the area, decorated with furs to keep the interior warm and Ori could see the flicker of candles from the slim gaps of the lining that was pegged to the floor. He shifted the material door out with his one outstretched arm and looked inside. Candles circled the room, surrounding a fur covered raised cot in the middle of the room, which had fur pelts and laced curtains draped on all four sides like curtains, a veil to everything that would happen in bed. Ori closed the velvet door behind him and swept across the room, slowly crawling onto the bed and curing in on himself, closing his eyes and pretending to be at home, wrapped in his starched cotton sheets and safe from everything.
Ori had not realised he had fallen asleep until he was awakened by the flutter of material and heavy sways of metal on a hefty hip. He woke with a slight gasp and saw his large husband inside the tent pulling off his large gold plated belt and throwing it on a nearby chest, pulling his daggers with it and placing them on the belt. Ori said nothing, too afraid to even move from the bed. He sat up slightly against the large pillows and slouched back, trying to create distance between them and not realising how dishevelled he looked in his soft marriage robe.
Dwalin pulled off the fur he wore around his waist and turned toward the bed as he let it flop to the side.
Ori could not think, could not even move or breathe. His mouth fell open and snapped shut many times, no words falling out between his lips until a single sentence came from his mouth.
"Do you speak the common tongue?" Ori asked curiously, hoping perhaps his husband would understand his distress. Dwalin looked back at his small husband and tilted his head slightly, sitting down on the edge of the bed carefully to view his husband.
"No."
Dwalin traced his fingers across the sheets and they skittered dangerously close to Ori's foot, before retreating back. Ori laughed breathlessly despite the situation and shifted further up the bed, his cheeks stained red and his breathing low.
"Is 'no' the only word you know?"
"No." Dwalin repeated and traced his fingers closer, smiling slightly as Ori fidgeted away his eyes fixed on the larger man with a frown. Dwalin watched the smaller man, there was no fear in his deep brown eyes and Dwalin found himself softening under his husbands determined gaze.
He took Ori's chin carefully as Ori felt a single tear trace his cheek, followed by Dwalin's curious and gentle finger. The warrior had seen fear before, he had tasted the blood of men on his tongue and heard their final whimpering breaths, he was not one to feel fear, he only inflected it. He had also seen this fear, the one Ori presented in his own mother, a single tear spilling from her eye as her husband and Dwalin's father faded. She had been a strong and tempered woman, unafraid to give her boy a hand to hand lesson in combat, but that day. The day of his fathers passing. She had let that tear slip and stay on her cheek as she joined her husband in the all consuming flames. Dwalin knew the look of fear, he knew it far too closely.
"Rest." Dwalin ordered and Ori took a moment to gather his thoughts, eyeing the larger man suspiciously. Dwalin nudged the smaller man backwards, and Ori gasped quietly as he hit the pillows, staring up at the wild beast he now called husband.
"Wh- What?" Ori stuttered weakly, finding himself unable to move from his place as the large man looked him over.
"Rest, we ride tomorrow." The man said again, and then he was gone. He had strolled out of the marital canvas, his dark tattoos and callused skin looking like bronze in the candlelight as he left. Ori was confused for only a moment, and then shock and tiredness finally took over his sense and he passed into a dreamless and still sleep.
----
When Ori woke the next day and stepped out into the low morning sun, he was greeted with his people - which was a strange though to him too - hurriedly packing down the tents and packs into wagons or on horses. The Dwarian people travelled light and anything that could not fit into a bag or be strapped to a horse would be left behind. That included Ori. He stretched outside his tent, shirt rising slightly to display his soft stomach until he notices tow tall shadows approaching from the corner of his eye, he quickly turned to see his husband leading a white horse to him. Ori watched him as the large man nodded a bit before Balin appeared at his side too, obviously watching the pair from a small distance away.
"You left the feast so early last night that Dwalin was not able to gift you his wedding present. As his husband, you now receive his selection of mate from his stallion. Gamul is a lovely mare, she's loyal and loving and a great blessing to our people, as you can see our horses are plain and simple colour, Gamul has a white complexion and that makes her a rarity to our people. Dwalin chose well."
Ori stepped forward and petted the horse with gentle fingers, the temperate beast snorted and shook its head for a moment and then settled. Ori gazed at his husband who was tracing his fingers with his eyes, a small smile on his lips.
"I do not know how to say thank you." Ori commented to Balin and the elder man chuckled for a moment.
"He needs no thanks, it is tradition." Balin replied as he petted Gamul himself. "She is a magnificent creature though, Dwalin's stallion has four mates in the clan and he chose the best in the lot."
"I wish I could thank him." Ori stated again and Balin waved him off before Ori felt hands around his waist, he wiggled in panic for a moment before he realised whose hands they were. Dwalin lifted him carefully onto the horse and Ori's legs gripped comfortably and naturally around the horse.
"I'm sure there's one way to thank him, my dearest." Smaug claimed as he stepped closer, obviously listening to the previous conversation. "You got on your knees for him last night, surely you can do it again."
Ori shut his mouth at that moment, glaring down slightly at Smaug and Balin joined him in his glare before the tall man stopped his sickly grin and turned to the grey haired man on the other side of Gamul.
"Where is my horse?" Smaug asked, an air of propriety around him but it seemed to fade when Balin looked at him with a raised brow.
"What are you talking about?" Balin questioned in reply and Smaug rolled his eyes.
"Ori received a horse and I do not have one of my own, I expected-"
"What you expected, Master Smaug, and what out tradition upholds are two very different things."
Dwalin mumbled something to his brother in their language and seemingly chuckled while Balin winced slightly, attempting to put on a pleasant smile. Ori watched between the pair and then looked down at his husband who was smiling up at him in a dreamlike state.
"My brother says you're welcome to walk with the children, or ride a goat." Balin stated calmly and Smaug snapped his cold gaze at Dwalin, who seemed completely unfazed by the tall mans harsh glare as he was some ways a head taller than him an twice as broad.
Smaug grumbled cusses under his breath before marching off, shoving some of the people who had gathered out of the way. Ori looked down at Balin again who smiled kindly and then Dwalin who patted his thigh and then turned to find his own horse.
"Stay by me today." Balin instructed and Ori furrowed his brow.
"Should I not stay by Dwalin? He is my husband after all."
Balin shook his head briefly.
"We ride in status of victory. Dwalin at the front with his top men, then the rest, then the children and Smaug. I ride in the second grouping so you will ride with me, but you will ride on the outside, am I clear?" Balin clarified and Ori made a sound of clarity and agreement allowing the horse to be lead until Balin found his own, mounted it and rode off in a trot. Ori close behind him.
Ori knew he was not a strong rider, it would be expected as he hadn't been riding since he was a boy and he had lost his sense of riding long ago. However, with Balin's careful tutoring and gentle instruction he found himself soon building a natural rhythm upon the horse.
There were moments of taking and moments of silence an they flowed easily in and out of this pattern as they rode. Ori focused on the motion of Gamul's head and neck and moved his hips in time to ease the ache in his thighs from the repetitive movement, the small man looked up only occasionally and when he did he noticed Dwalin's eyes on him every time. He sometime circled the group, checking his people and making sure everyone was in line and when he rounded the back and came back to the front he would stay by Ori for a moment, smile when Ori noticed him and smiled back, and then rode off again.
After the fourth time this happened, Balin finally commented.
"I saw my brother drinking with his comrades last night, during the time he was expected to consummate your marriage. I can tell by his rotation, you did not lay with him last night."
Ori blushed brightly, fiddling with the leather reins as he watched them, hoping they would give him a response.
"I did not." Ori replied and Balin raised a brow at the young man, it was not a judging or a harsh brow only one that questioned with curiosity at the information that Ori wondered if acceptable to reveal.
"He came to our tent, said few words, told me to sleep and left." Ori explained and Balin hummed for a moment. "Was that not acceptable?"
"No, no lad, that is perfectly acceptable. You can both decide when you make the marriage official, whenever you feel comfortable." Balin replied and Ori felt a weight lift from his chest as the man continued. "However, it will be expected of you to learn our language and our customs, you will wear the clothes of our people when we next stop and you must entwine yourself with our people."
And entwine he certainly did.
Ori was not so strong a fighter but he had great intelligence and when his people came to him bearing issues that would typically end in blood shed, he would sit the feuding pairs down and discuss. Balin would sometimes bear witness to this as a translator and if not, Dwalin would sit with him too. He did not support the idea of discussing his peoples problems to begin with, but with more and more men dying due to their ignorant and volatile ways, something had to be done.
Dwalin would help Ori with his language lessons too, Balin would say the word then Dwalin would translate into their language as he pointed them out on Ori's body so he would remember.
"Head."
"Head." Dwalin repeated as he gently grabbed the top of Ori's head.
"Eyes."
"Eyes." Dwalin touched the corners of Ori's face just beside his eyes and the small man found himself blushing.
"Lip."
Dwalin hesitated for a moment before using his thumb to trace the corner of Ori's lip with a soft smile on his own as he softly said.
"Lip."
"Heart."
Dwalin shot his brother a sharp scowl before pressing a hand to Ori's chest just above his heart and nodded.
"Heart."
"Heart." Ori repeated in the language and Dwalin smiled. As the three were sheltered in the tent, they did not notice the sharp gaze of Smaug from the gap in the cloth door.
It had been almost a month since they had left the Risonary manor and Smaug was nowhere near taking over the southern lands, or crossing the sea. He had had quite enough of the young master Ori and his barbaric husband, as well as his well meaning elderly brother. Smaug growled under his breath and swept out of the tent doorway, uncaring of any who see him or hear him cursing their leaders under his breath.
The next day they rode again, and as they arrived at the edge of a thick forest, Ori called for a pause. He knew the forest from his mothers maps, it was vast and large and would take many days to pass through so he called for everyone to rest under the command of their leaders mated. They did, with no questions asked. Well, all except one member.
Ori took to the woods for a moment, taking in the surroundings and breathing in the new and fresh air, away from the cluster of sweaty bodies and heaving horses. Ori heard a rustling from behind him and turned, the branches quivering before revealing Smaug, a snarl on his lips.
"You dare to command me!" Smaug growled as he pulled a dagger from his belt, marching toward the boy. Ori had never betrayed him, had never spoken back or out of line and he would pay for this exchange. He ran to the boy and grabbed him around the throat and held his dagger high. "You dare to give me an order?! I will not listen to the lines of savages or their sluts, I am your mast-ack!"
Ori did not notice the whips wrapped around Smaug's neck until it had pulled him to the floor and tightened. Around him were three of his people, a man upon and horse and two women who held the whips tightly with frowns on their features. Balin was nearby too, obviously hearing the shouting and ordering his people. The young man snarled something in their language that was too quick to hear.
"He asks if you want him killed, Ori." Balin translated and Ori looked at him, still wild and startled.
"No, no, I do not!" Ori replied quickly. "Tell him to release him."
"Are you certain?" Balin asked quite calmly and the woman on the left side tightened her whip around Smaug's throat, making him choke and splutter more.
"Yes, I am certain, let him go now!"
The women did as they were told, snapping their whips back with scowls as Smaug panted and coughed until he got air in his lungs again. He glared at Ori, eyes tearful and a shameful red to match his throat. He heaved in a final breath before shuffling away, cutting through the trees and branches without even looking back.
That was the last handful of moments that Ori saw Smaug, he avoided him for the following few days as they passed through the forest and when they reached the other side and the tents were set up Ori sat with Dwalin in the safety of their tent.
Ori was quiet as he rubbed oils into Dwalin's tattoos and burnt shoulders, even if he pleaded for his husband to wear a shirt in the hot sun, his husband would not listen too much as was his tradition to show of his tattoos and his ultimate prowess. Then it would be his husbands job to tend to his inked blessings, and would ask for the story for each of them. However, on this day he was silent.
"Something weighs on your mind, moon of my life." Dwalin commented and Ori sighed as he rubbed the large mans back.
"Smaug, he weighs heavily in my mind." Ori repeated the phrasing and Dwalin hummed, stretching his muscled shoulders slightly and Ori felt them under his hand with a soft smile taking over his lips.
"I heard of your brawl, he is not welcome to our tents." Dwalin stated and Ori knew his husband was protective, he had been ever since their first meetings and their wedding and the only extent of their bed-sport was curling around each other as they slept. Dwalin, despite his harsh exterior, was most comfortable when he was wrapped around his husband in a drowsy state of sleep and he had soon discovered that Dwalin would keep a dagger under his pillow in protection toward intruders, but Ori had made him promise to keep it under the bed or at his side table because Dwalin sacrificed his pillows for Ori. The small man enjoyed having many pillows under his head, while Dwalin was pleased with more simplistic living and the pillows would always end up on the floor anyway as they would wrap around each other.
"He has never been welcome." Ori commented and Dwalin hummed in response, laying back into his husbands arm and rubbing the final tattoos on his forearms.
"No one is welcome here."
"Am I?" Ori asked curiously as he leaned over his husbands shoulder and smiled softly, Dwalin hummed and knocked his forehead against his cheek before rotating onto his knees and kneeling in front of his husband.
"You are. Always will be." Dwalin reassured and knocked their foreheads together. Ori only realised then that he had never actually kissed Dwalin. There had been the wedding day that felt like a distant memory where they had touched lips briefly and Ori had wiped them afterwards, he had never been so close since to those lips that had sealed his marital vows and now, there they sat, coarse and bare for him to claim. Ori did not, he swallowed until his fluttering stomach rested and until his husband moved away again, the larger man letting out a soft breath as he did.
It was not until some days later that Ori was so close again, and this time he took it.
They had invaded a city in the East as they passed, the marble walls nothing but paper sheets when the Dwarian men sought to conquer. They were instructed by Smaug to do the bidding, and Dwalin had agreed, only for the means of stealing rations for the weeks. Ori spent his time gathering the women of the city and their children to protect them from harm, the men of the Dwarian tribe were noble and gracious, even the most noble man can go mad in a hot sun and a new scent in the air. Ori slapped away a familiar warrior who was wrestling with a servant girl, hissing at him in their sacred tongue and shoving him away, tucking the girl safely behind him. The warrior hissed in reply before hurrying off, it was only a few moments later that Ori was summoned to appear before their leader, his husband.
Ori lead the group of terrified looking men and women between his people and then in front of his husband, who was leaning on his long sword and listening the the young warrior rant and shout in their language, an angry red hand mark on his cheek.
"Moon of my life, Azog says you have taken his spoils of raid, the girl was his to hold." Dwalin commented with a sigh, and Ori straightened his back slightly under the scrutiny of his husband, the warriors, and Smaug. "What is the truth of this?"
"I have claimed them as my own." Ori stated and Azog snarled with a frown, but Dwalin paid no attention, focused only on his husband. "They are now under my protection."
"That is not our way." Dwalin commented and Ori straightened further.
"But that is my way." Ori replied and Dwalin smiled slightly, feeling proud of his husband standing up for his own wants and needs. Dwalin hummed, looking his small husband for a moment before speaking again.
"Azog, I will hear no more of this." Dwalin declared waving the tall and pale warrior off with his hand, raising a brow at him a moment later. "Find somewhere else to stick your cock."
Azog snarled, pulling his curved sword from his belt and pointing it at Dwalin with a scowl. Dwalin's men jumped up and pulled their own blades out while Balin grabbed Ori by the arm and pulled him safely behind the crowd. Dwalin looked on with distaste, not even flinching and only raising a single eyebrow.
"A King who bows down to a foregin whore, is no king." Azog snarled and Dwalin's men stepped forward, which Dwalin quickly halted with a clipped command. He got to his feet, swaying cockily as he placed his hands on the hilt of his daggers.
"You question me?" He asked as he stepped forward and Azog pressed his blade to the top of Dwalin's firm pectoral, digging it in slightly. Dwalin looked down at the blade like it had offended his heritage and sneered, glaring at Azog.
"Hide your eyes, Ori." Balin quickly hissed and tried to pull the small man away, but Ori did not move, too enchanted by the fire in his husbands eyes. A moment passed, a crack in the air and then Azog and Dwalin were locked in fighting stances.
Dwalin pulled out his daggers in a display of dominance and dropped them to the ground, watching Azog as they circled each other.
"You're no king." Azog snarled.
"You're no match." Dwalin replied a smirk on his face and Azog lunged forward, Dwalin easily ducked out of the way, turning quickly and Ori watched as that inked skin glistened with sweat and steady, sure movements as he dodged each of Azog's swings.
"I will bury you under my mound of the dead, and let the ravens claw at your flesh." Dwalin taunted as they moved quicker and Ori then noticed the wound on his chest was bleeding with every movement and he felt fear at this fact.
"You will have to kill me first!" Azog shouted and slammed the blade into Dwalin's chest, which the larger man caught with his wrist armour before turning the blade in his arms.
"I already have."
Dwalin spun the blade and their was a pause in the moment, a scream, and then the sound of a body falling to the floor. When Ori was pulled from his daze he saw Dwalin, proudly holding up Azog's decapitated head to the crowd, a sign of his prowess. The king then threw the head onto the pile of bodies and limbs that was at the side of his wooden chair, Ori only hesitated for a moment before hurrying around the fallen body of Azog and running to his husband, kneeling before him.
"You are wounded." Ori commented and Dwalin growled a bit, wiping blood from his face and then looking down at the cut with a raised brow.
"It is nothing, moon of my life." Dwalin stated as he cupped Ori's cheeks and brushed his thumb gently over his cheekbone. "It is the bite of a flea."
"I can heal you." Ori reassured and Dwalin frowned a bit, shrugged him off with a scowl.
"I do not need your healing touch, I only need you with me." Dwalin replied lowly and knocked their foreheads together, a smile on his lips as Ori pressed back with his own forehead and the small man decided to leave the subject for now. No Dwarian man would let their wounds be tended, at least not under the eyes of his own people.
Much later, when dinner had been served and then eaten, Ori retired to their tent. He prepared ointments that Balin had given him and found bandages in his own pack, he stretched out on the bed afterwards and sighed as he did. A moment later, Dwalin ducked into the room through the curtained door and smiled a bit when he saw his husband lounging on the bed quite comfortably. Ori got up slowly, trying to be as seductive as possible as he glided across the room, he carefully stepped over to his husband and placed his hands on his shoulder.
"Sit." Ori said softly and even if Dwalin didn't understand the western tongue, he followed the direction of his husbands hand as he pushed him down carefully. Dwalin only saw then the ointment and wrappings at the side of their bed and huffed when Ori kneeled in front of him and grabbed the bandages.
"I am strong, my moon." Dwalin stated and Ori sighed, unwrapping the white strips from around their coil.
"I do not question that, but I just want to see you - you..." Ori tried and couldn't find the word in his language. "I do not want to lose you."
"Lose?" Dwalin tired and Ori nodded softly, he then quickly leaned up and kissed the side of his husbands mouth, a soft and timid touch before Ori slumped back and blushed. The larger man was still with surprise before he smirked, and Ori looked up at him and laughed before swatting his cheek.
"Don't look at me like that." Ori pressed as he began petting the ointment into the wound. "Stay still."
Dwalin did as he was ordered and remained as still as he could, the occasional wince making his body twitch but he was hesitant to jump or move quickly just in case he scared his little husband away, something he'd never want to do.
---- Seven Months Earlier ----
Dwalin pulled off his large golden belt and threw it to the side as he went inside his lonely tent, he had always been a solitary person, he cared not for keeping company and keeping up his etiquette to please others. He never had the time nor passion to maintain a relationship, let alone a marriage. But then. Then he had saw him, the foreign man from the northern sun valleys. The boy was small and pale with a soft layer of freckles, he had copper hair and the softest eyes. Dwalin could not deny the tug he felt in his heart for the small man, but he did not know if if was only the flutter of reaction to a pretty face, or something more.
The large man grumbled as he slumped onto his lonely bed and stared up at the ceiling, it provided him little comfort and certainly no answers.
"Dwalin, we must speak." Balin commented as he walked into his room, a stack of papers in his hands that he was reading and an ink quill in the other. "After the events of today, you must think for a change."
"And you must think before throwing your weight around my tent. I did not invite you in." Dwalin stated and Balin rolled his eyes, he knew his brother would lock himself away when he was uncertain or afraid of something, it did not happen often but when it did Balin certainly knew about it.
"What did you think of the boy?" Balin questioned and Dwalin remained silent, slowly sitting up with a sigh.
"I think that he is what you say, a boy."
"I spoke with him." Balin commented, trying to get Dwalin away from the subject of age, it was true that Dwalin was older than the young northern boy but it was no longer than their own parents age gap, and their marriage was quite positive. "He is a nice boy, a little quite and shy I grant you, but he had a good soul and I think he is stronger than you and I could ever give credit for."
"He has no markings." Dwalin said as he pointed to his own tattoos running all across his arms an then trickling down his back an neck.
"He does not have the rituals we do, we must include him in our culture and our heritage."
"I did not say I'd marry him yet," Dwalin scoffed. "And here you are, speaking as though I have agreed and married the boy this day."
Balin hesitated for a moment, letting out a low sigh a moment later and looking at his brother with a small smile.
"I know you have never wished to be married, Dwalin. You had viewed our parents marriage and saw weakness rather than love and respect over passion, but I think, as your brother and advisor, that this will be good for you and that you will be most happy." Balin stated and laid the papers on Dwalin's dresser as well as the inked quill. "I will leave this here, please consider it."
An hour later, Dwalin appeared from his tent with the agreement signed and a reserved smile on his face.
---- Now ----
Seven sunrises and sunsets has passed before trouble began to stir again. Trouble in the shape of a drunken and angry Smaug, who stumbled into the eating tent with eyes bloodshot in rage and drink. He swayed and pointed to Ori, who was wide eyed and got to his feet instantly. Balin followed and stepped between Smaug and the small man.
"Master Smaug, I would not recommend this course of action," Balin tried to comfort as he stepped forward, but Smaug pulled out his broadsword and pressed the tip to Balins throat and the elderly man swallowed thickly. "You do not know what you do-"
"Oh yes I do, I am taking back what is mine, and I will not let some pathetic old sack of shit like you, stand in my way." Smaug hissed and Ori stepped forward now, the room was completely silent and Ori could see his husbands eyes begin to flash with the same rage that killed Azog.
"Smaug, please." Ori called now and Smaug looked over at him, his head tilted and his smile sick. A sickness formed by the greed of gold.
"There he is." Smaug stated as he pulled the blade from Balin's throat and the elderly man quickly hurried to the side of his brother, ready to translate as well as he could. "You will sacrifice yourself for these people, and not me? The man who fed you and gave you a home, who bought you here to be fucked and wedded to a barbarian chief. I heard you could not even do that right. Everything I did, I did for you, beloved one."
Ori felt something snap inside him, something dangerous and angry, something that was filled with the Dwarian fire. He scowled, holding himself firm as he snarled.
"You have done nothing for me, you are a cruel, selfish, ignorant man and I will not let you talk to me like you once did, ever again! I am the husband to the leader of the Dwarian people, I am worth more than you have ever been or ever will be again! You will not disrespect my people or my husband, and certainty not me!" Ori snapped, flashing his teeth to the taller man and not backing down, not even flinching when Smaug lifted his sword and placed it on his middle.
"Don't you get tricky with me, you little slut or I'll-"
"Or you'll what? You'll drink away the rest of my families business?" Ori commented and Smaug became pale, his face sinking as the small man smirked. "Ah yes, you seem to have forgotten all those nights that turned my families vineyard into a drunken hostel, you weak-bellied fool. What can you do?"
"I can take you away," Smaug replied, trying to remain as calm as he could, pressing the sword a little firmer to Ori's abdomen, making the smaller mans gut twist a bit, Ori could hear Balin's translating to Dwalin only a few feet away. "He has bought you, but he never claimed you. Tell him, to take us to the south and to take the three kingdoms and get me my crown then, then he may have you. If not, then I will take you, kicking and screaming, back to our lovely little vineyard."
Ori watched Smaug for a long moment then heard Dwalin speak, the tall mans eyes flicked back and forth between the married pair and scowled at Ori.
"Wh- What did he say?" Smaug asked and Ori smiled slightly.
"He says yes."
"Yes."
"Yes, you will have a crown of gold, a crown so great that all men will remember." Ori said calmly and Smaug grinned, placing his sword back into the hold around his belt.
"Well that is good, that is all I wanted. What I was promised." Smaug nodded to Dwalin and he smirked slightly before snarling a command and three men grabbing Smaug from behind, pulling him and punching him as Smaug screamed and cursed and was pushed to the floor.
"No, no! You cannot do this!" Smaug protested and Ori simply watched as Dwalin hurried to him, kissed his forehead and whispered comforts before going to the large pot in the middle of the room and throwing in his thick golden belt. "No - no - no please, Ori - Ori tell him to stop! Please!"
Ori said nothing, stood still and watched as Smaug squirmed. Balin came to him and tugged at his arms.
"Ori, will you look away?"
"No." Ori said firmly, watching as Smaug frantically wriggle and pleaded. "He threatened my people and my husband, I feel no shame in killing him."
Balin nodded in understanding and only hooped his arm around the boys, petting his upper arm gently as Ori did the same, they locked arms as they had done during their first meeting and Ori felt comfort at last.
Dwalin's muscles strained as he hefted the heavy pot off the flames, the metal bubbling calmly with the stench of iron impregnating the room, Smaug continued to wriggle and plead, looking at Ori for a final time and shouting for his help. Ori did nothing.
"A crown for a king." Dwalin stated coldly before pouring the gold up and Ori watched the reflective stream as it settled over Smaug's head, the taller man screaming as a river of gold sealed around his weak skull. Ori could see himself as the reflective metal settled and he saw himself blank-faced and calm. He felt nothing.
Smaug's still body slumped forward, hitting the floor with a very heavy sound and at last all was silent and in his heart, Ori felt free. He let out a deep sigh he did not know he was holding before sound returned to him, people moving and leaving the tent to finish the food outside while Dwalin came over and looped his arm around Ori's waist and pressed their foreheads together. He mumbled sweet words again and Ori knew he was finally safe.
"Moon of my life?" Dwalin questioned softly and Ori looked up, a small smile of his lips as he ran his fingers through the larger mans beard.
"My Dwalin." Ori replied before he pulled the larger man down with arms wrapped securely around his shoulders and he kissed him tenderly, loving every moment and every rough brush against his chin and cheek as he let his husband consume him.
That night, hidden away in their tent from prying eyes and the harshness of the world, Dwalin and Ori consummated their marriage. Ori laid with his husbands going passionately between his thighs and he knew he didn't want to be anywhere else.
Ori knew his life had not the best start, but he knew he was heading toward a happy ending. A happy ending with his husband at his side, forever.
His Sun and Stars.