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Balin lifted his head when he heard a soft knock on the door to his study. Not Dwalin, then—his brother had a rhythm when he knocked, and it was never so gentle.
Despite what Dwalin might think, Balin was never so lost in his work that his warrior training failed to alert him to noises or movement. If he sometimes chose to ignore them…well, that was his business. Any who made the mistake of thinking him slow or senile would be taught a lesson.
And not in scribing.
"Come in," he called, setting his pen carefully down after shaking excess ink back into the inkwell. He had a suspicion as to who his visitor might be, could probably have called his guest by name, but Balin had never found it prudent to reveal any more than necessary. Sometimes, not even that much.
The latch clicked and the door slid open on well-oiled hinges. A gentle cough called for his attention.
Balin turned, slowly. “Dori! This is a pleasant surprise. And how may I be of assistance to you, hmmm?” It truly was a pleasant surprise—Balin would have snapped up Dori years ago, immediately after he came of age, if it weren’t for two things: Dori was very proud of getting by on his own, raising both his brothers after their mother died bringing Ori into the world. He wouldn’t have accepted Balin’s assistance, and Balin knew it. He did, however, offer a ruinously low fee for tutoring Ori, and he never questioned payments that came late.
Or not at all.
Secondly, Balin was a dwarf lord. His title meant little enough to nothing exiled in the Blue Mountains, but Dori was a very proper dwarf, who held fast to the old ways and customs he had hardly been old enough to learn when the Mountain fell. Dori respected Balin’s station, and wouldn’t consider himself worthy of being anything higher than a concubine. Marriage was, for the time being, out of the question. Balin was, however, an exceedingly patient hunter. So long as Dori wasn’t claimed by another—and, by the First Stone, why hadn’t anyone yet made an offer to the most beautiful dwarf in Ered Luin? And Balin would know if such an offer had been made, however secretly—Balin could wait decades.
Dori smiled prettily, bringing out the fine lines at the corners of his eyes, making his beard and moustache curl in a subtly erotic way that had Balin wanting him on his knees beneath the desk—which Balin was currently thankful for, that and the way robes tended to conceal things.
None of this showed on Balin’s face. He smiled, serenely, and gestured for Dori to speak.
"I am sorry to be a bother," Dori began, the way he nearly always did. The only time Dori rushed the beginning of a conversation was if the matter at hand was quite urgent, which Balin knew already this wasn’t. He had a suspicion about what had brought Dori here today, but he kept it to himself. "It’s only…well…I wasn’t sure who else to come to. And it does concern our families." His smile turned apologetic, accenting the luscious curve of his cheeks.
There were times Balin wished he were a younger and altogether different dwarf, of the sort to be satisfied by a night (or three) of impassioned rutting, who didn’t feel the need to approach properly. The clinker of it was, he knew Dori would accept his offer to tup. If that was all he wanted, he could have had Dori nine ways from Durin’s Day many years ago.
It appeared his suspicions were correct. Dori must be here regarding Dwalin and Nori. Balin said nothing, inviting Dori to sit in the plush-but-worn chair in the other side of the desk. Halls of stone, Dori even sat prettily, lowering himself into the chair, crossing his ankles and fluffing his clothing like a hen on her nest.
"It’s…well…it’s our brothers. Not Ori, obviously!" Dori rolled his eyes as though the very thought of needing to have a discussion about Ori—especially Ori and Dwalin!—was absurd.
Balin had seen the looks Ori gave Dwalin, and while he was sure Dwalin returned nothing but affection, he did worry about his student’s heart being trodden on a bit.
"Oh, you see…oh, dear…this is going to sound terribly silly of me, but…do you ever get the feeling that they’re…" Dori made rather graphic coupling motions with his hands, teeth sunk into his lower lip in such an appealing way as to make Balin very glad he’d stoked his forge the night before, giving him enough control to sit and not bend the all-too-willing Dori over the desk and thoroughly plumb his depths.
Balin crossed his black-gloved hands on the desk, both to show that he was giving Dori his full attention, and to keep them from wandering. “I wouldn’t call that silly at all.”
Dori looked relieved, and an instant later, almost predatory. “Oh, good! It isn’t just me, then!” Balin could hear the little gears and machinery whirr in Dori’s mind as he planned out every step of their brothers’ courtship, straight through until marriage and children.
"I do believe it’s only a matter of time before they realize exactly what they are to one another, but I do suspect that any nudging or other intervention would slow the process down."
Dori pulled a very becoming moue, but nodded. “Oh! I know you’re right, but those two lunkheads will take a century to figure it out on their own—begging your pardon, not that your brother is a lunkhead!”
Balin graced him with a smile to show he had taken no offence. “My brother is a lunkhead and much more, and I have told him so many times.”
"There’s really nothing we can do but wait?"
"I’m afraid so." Balin had played out every possible scenario he could come up with regarding Dwalin and ‘his’ thief. He flicked through them again, quickly, in case he had missed something, but nothing had changed. "We know, but we can’t let them know that we know. They’re still very much in the dark about one another."
Dori nodded again, looking crestfallen.
"However…" Balin tapped one gloved finger against his nose, winking at Dori, "I can all but promise you—they will come ‘round."