Natural || Dwalin x OC - A Hobbit Fanfiction

25 - Grasp their soul and Keep it.

The disapproving look Dawlín received from Balín when he returned to their rooms early in the morning had him sighing. His back was aching from where he had slept in the chair next to Rurín's bed. She had begged him to stay till she fell asleep. She didn't want to let go of his hand and who was he to deny her that comfort? She needed him and he promised to be there for her. Whatever she needed.

"Thorín knows about what happened," Balín said, taking a sip of the weak ale he preferred over tea.

"Let me guess, Dís?" Dwalín hissed.

He was so angry at Dís, enough to wring her neck. He had never hit a woman who didn't have it coming. Which meant he had never had a reason to go after Dís. Ever. But she was lucky he could quell the beast in him that would burn the world down for his one. She should have known better. She had a husband, she knew what Dwarves do for their Ones. How protective they were of them, to the point other races thought them possessive.

He would never be possessive of Rurí... he just wanted her safe. Dís, as far as was concerned was not good for Rurín. Not one single bit. He never wanted to see his Karkithe like that again. He never wanted her to get trapped in her mind stuck back there in that cavern, pleading for her life. He would even go head to head with Thorín, his king, his best friend... his brother... for that sweet lass. He may be her older brother but Rurín was his one. Therefore, she will always be his number one priority. She came before even his loyalty to his king.

"Aye..." Balín nodded his head. "She told him... As it was her duty too. You were in her bathing chambers alo--" Dwalín glared at his brother. "Now, Dwalín I am not accusing you of any nefarious acts with her. I trust you were proper. I would never question your behavior with Lady Rurín. I raised you after all..."

Dwalín rubbed his head and exhaled deeply, plopping down on the free armchair. Balín leaned over and patted his shoulder, squeezing it. "I am here for you, sticky bun."

Dwalín narrowed his eyes at him with a low growl causing Balín to laugh loudly and raise his hand and mug playfully in the air. "Stop calling me that for the last time! I'll burn yer beard off!"

"It is not my fault you have sticky fingers when it comes to Halwakhfad (deep-fried sweet buns) Suprised you became a guard at all when you are so talented at knicking them when no one was watching."

"I was a dwarfling. The name was and will never be cute. Stop it." Dwalín yanked Balín's beard just enough to make the white-bearded dwarf yelp. He got out of arms reach of his brother and headed for his room.

"Dwalín!" Balín called making him pause with his hand on the handle. He grunted, his back turned. "Thorín will not listen until you've taken the punishment. You know the rules."

"Aye. And it was worth it." He said plainly.

Balín nodded his head. Proud of his brother. He was doing what needed to take care of his one. He leaned back and sipped some more of his ale. "He'll be fine..."

When Dwalín walked out into the barren training yard after a short nap and wash, he was not surprised to see the overly protective kingly arse of brother waiting for him, staff in hand and staring blankly at him, shirtless and ready for a fight. Dwalín pulled off his own, dropped it on the sword rack next to Thorín's, and grabbed a heavily wooded staff from the rack. He cracked his neck as he made his way over to him.