So Comes Snow After Fire

20.i When the Winds Begin to Sing

The stands surrounding the open floor of the training hall were quite full by the time Thorin arrived. With the Council nearly concluded, many of the younger dwarves had arranged to celebrate with an athletic competition among the clans. The morning had opened with a wrestling match, though the events had moved on to a hammer throw at present. Archery would be next, and Thorin had promised his younger nephew he would be present to watch.

Crowded as the stands were, it was not hard for Thorin to find a place at the rail; the dwarves of his own and the visiting clans alike readily made way for the high king and his guard, which today consisted only of Dwalin and another Longbeard veteran of Azanulbizar.

In the finely graveled arena below, the contest had come to a tie-breaking throw between one of the Stonefoots and one of the Blacklocks. Indeed, the Blacklock contingent was gathered near in the stands, as Thorin discovered from the earsplitting cheer when their man's throw passed the Stonefoot's own by several spans. As their champion bowed to his appreciative audience and then accepted his prize, Thorin noted that among the Blacklock spectators stood Audha, Kíli's intended.

In the brief lull while the field was prepared for the archery contest, Thorin made his way towards her, and seeing him, she curtseyed low.

"Your Majesty," she greeted him.

"My lady," he returned with a slight bow. "I suppose you know Kíli is to compete next in the archery match."

"He is?" Interest flickered in her grey eyes. "He said he would compete in the armed events, but I did not get to ask which weapon he would choose. I had thought perhaps the sword; I know how well he fought on Ravenhill." Since the marriage arrangement, Audha had given full attention to Kíli's accomplishments.

"He is skilled with a sword, I'm gratified to say, as I myself had a hand in his training," Thorin concurred with a slight smile. "But he's always had a particularly keen eye with a bow."

Behind them, Dwalin chuckled. "He could outshoot me when 'e was fifteen," he remarked. "Though mebee that's not sayin' much."

Glancing back, Thorin caught Dwalin's knowing grin. His cousin, Thorin knew from long experience, preferred to settle fights from a closer range.

"Your nephews were trained so young?" Audha gasped, and turning back to her, Thorin met her wide eyes.

"You may imagine their mother objected," he told her. "My only thought was to make them ready for the day we would return."

"And they were," Dwalin pronounced.

"Aye, thank Mahal."

With the target set out, the archers themselves began to file into the arena, and Audha turned back to the rail to study them. There were perhaps a score of contestants from the different clans, and Kíli looked the youngest of them, though with his short beard, he sometimes did appear younger than his age. (Was that why the lad had recently decided to let his beard grow?)

Kíli was intent on conversation with a grey-bearded dwarf beside him; and though their words were impossible to catch here amongst the buzz of the crowd, it was evident from look and gesture that they discussed Kíli's bow. With its unconventional size and clean lines, the weapon was clearly of elven make. Tauriel had given it to him last Yuletide, and he had been practicing under her guidance ever since.

The elder dwarf was shaking his head now, as if kindly dismissing a youngster's folly. From the mischievous flash in Kíli's eye and the upward quirk of his mouth as he responded, Thorin needed no help to know the lad had just promised his opponent would feel differently about the outlandish weapon when he was beaten by it. Glad as Thorin was to see his nephew restored to his customary light spirits, the sight nonetheless pained him: Kíli had been unnaturally subdued since the controversy, and this glimpse served as a fresh reminder of just how much he was altered.