Chapter 16: The Lively Dwarf Brothers

Tarnes was taken aback by the Dwarf brothers' sudden, deep bow. When they exclaimed, "At your service!" in booming voices, he quickly held up a hand. "There's no need to be so polite. If anything, I should be thanking you for helping escort these supplies."

Kíli, the younger of the two, his dark hair framing a boyishly handsome face, looked up, his eyes bright with relief. He remained in his bow, however, and whispered to his older brother, "It seems Dwalin was right; this Wizard does appear to be quite amiable."

Fíli whispered back, "Indeed."

With a silent, shared understanding, the brothers straightened up. Kíli, a wide, foolish grin on his face, started to extend his hand, but Fíli stopped him with a look.

"You are the benefactor who saved Thorin, Mr. Tarnes," Fíli said, his expression earnest and serious. "This is the treatment you deserve."

Kíli glanced at his brother, then nodded in agreement, his own grin returning. "Yes, we heard your story. We came to serve as escorts on this trip to repay your kindness."

Dwalin strode over, clapping the brothers on their shoulders. "I told you Mr. Tarnes is easy to get along with. But let's save the chatter until we set off. Mr. Tarnes's homeland is waiting for these supplies." He turned to Tarnes, a grin splitting his rugged face. "After we leave the city, I'll trouble you to lead the way!"

"Of course," Tarnes replied. "I remember the way I came and left markers. I haven't encountered any Orcs on this path, so it should be safe."

Dwalin nodded, then bellowed at the other Dwarves to prepare for departure.

Tarnes surveyed the convoy. Three carriages were filled with grains and crop seeds, each with its own driver. The two dairy cows, seven sheep, and a dozen chickens Thorin had gifted were loaded into special livestock carts. He had worried that four escorts—himself, Dwalin, Fíli, and Kíli—would not be enough for such a large train. But his concerns were eased when he saw that every Dwarf driver had a short sword or hand axe at their hip. They were not warriors like Dwalin, but they were far from defenseless.

The sight of the seven-carriage convoy leaving the city, escorted by a human wizard and the two princely brothers, drew more than a few curious stares. But the Dwarves were a practical people, and soon they were back to their own business. The strange sight would be a fine topic for speculation over ale in the evening taverns.

As they reached the town gate, Tarnes spotted Thorin and Gloin waiting to see them off.

"Thorin, why are you here?" Tarnes greeted, starting to dismount from Torrent.

Thorin waved him off with a smile. "I just came to see you off. No need for ceremony. Besides, seven carriages stopping here would block the road and earn us a few complaints."

Tarnes smiled back and leaned down to shake Thorin's hand one last time. "You're right. Thorin, once my homeland is stable, I will personally invite you to visit the Erdtree and introduce you to my people. It was you, Thorin Oakenshield, who provided help in our darkest hour."

Thorin released his hand, patting Torrent's saddle as Tarnes rode past. As he did, Tarnes noticed the dwarf captain, Gloin, looking rather downcast. He remembered their earlier misunderstanding.

"Gloin," Tarnes called out gently, "I still remember you said you owed me a barrel of ale. Remember to have it ready for my next visit."

The dwarf captain's dejected mood vanished instantly. He nodded vigorously, his red beard bouncing, and let out a hearty laugh. "Hahaha, I will definitely have the finest ale ready for you, Master Tarnes!"

As he spoke, Tarnes tossed a small, smooth white stone toward him, a stone that glowed with a soft, golden light. Gloin caught it, his expression stunned.

Tarnes was already past him, but he turned and waved, his voice carrying back. "This Warmstone is for you. It symbolizes that our misunderstanding has been resolved, and it also symbolizes our newly established friendship, Gloin!"

Thorin recognized the stone. "Take it, Gloin," he said, clapping his friend's back. "This magical stone can heal wounds. Perhaps you'll find a use for it someday."

Gloin's fiery beard twitched. He pounded his chest vigorously in Tarnes's direction.

These Dwarves are truly interesting, Tarnes thought, a private smile on his face as he turned and rode on.

Meanwhile, Thorin approached the carriage where his nephews were sitting. Fíli and Kíli, who had been laughing and chatting, immediately sat up straight.

Thorin's smile vanished, replaced by the stern expression of a father. His gaze settled on Fíli. "On this journey, you represent the royal line of Durin. Do not lose face in front of the Wizard. I know you have grown into an excellent warrior; show him the courage and strength of our people. Be safe. I await your and Kíli's return."

Fíli nodded firmly. "I will bring everyone back safely."

Then Thorin's gaze softened as he looked at Kíli. "I know you are curious about the world, but do not cause too much trouble for your brother and Mr. Tarnes. If you encounter anything you cannot handle, ask Fíli and Dwalin for help. Do not try to be a hero."

Kíli, like his brother, nodded vigorously, like an obedient sparrow.

"Goodbye, Uncle Thorin," the brothers said in unison.

Thorin nodded, his gaze lingering on the departing convoy until it had completely disappeared from view.

Three Days Later

The Dwarves traveled at a pace that surprised Tarnes. They were on the road for most of the day, stopping only for meals. But they were still mortal and needed their rest. Tarnes, checking the map and his markers, estimated it would be another four days before they reached the Erdtree. He was eager to return but knew it was useless to rush.

The journey was peaceful. They encountered no Orcs.

"The last attack Thorin faced was rare," Fíli explained one afternoon as they rode. "Orcs do not often operate in the west. The Elves and Men maintain a strong defense to the east. Their patrols are constantly clearing out any who wander from the Misty Mountains."

"I heard human merchants say they saw exceptionally tall Orcs near the Misty Mountains," Kíli added, his hands gesturing excitedly. "But they didn't get a good look. They were frightened off by a chilling roar."

Fíli smiled. "No, no, Kíli. What you are talking about is not an Orc, but a Troll. They are terrifyingly large, and they turn to stone in the sunlight, so they rarely leave the mountains. The merchants who told you that were lucky the weather was bright, otherwise they would have ended up in a Troll's cooking pot."

Tarnes listened with interest. "They turn to stone? I had assumed they were some kind of construct made with Glintstone sorcery, and their weakness was simply an inability to tolerate the sun."

"And besides the Trolls," Kíli continued, "there are Orcs in the Misty Mountains even shorter than us Dwarves. I believe they're called Goblins?" He looked to his brother for confirmation.

Fíli shrugged with a smile. "Perhaps? I'm not entirely sure. Just chop off their heads with an axe when you see them."

Their conversation was interrupted by the faint sound of rushing water.

"It looks like we've reached the Brandywine River," Tarnes said. He rode to the front of the convoy. "Dwalin, let everyone rest here. We have traveled all morning. Let's make a fire and eat. After lunch, we will cross."

Dwalin looked confused. "Rest now? But we must find a shallow place for the carriages to cross. That could take hours."

Tarnes laughed kindly and pointed to himself. "Dwalin, you often call me 'wizard.' But why, at a time like this, have you forgotten that I am one?"

Dwalin's eyes lit up, and he patted his bald head. "I have never traveled with a wizard before. I did not expect you could make carriages cross a turbulent river. I will go and tell our kin to rest."

While the Dwarves prepared lunch, Fíli and Kíli went out to scout the area. Though they believed the land to be safe, they did not relax their guard. They returned with several fat prairie rabbits, a welcome addition to the meal.

After lunch, amidst the excited and astonished cheers of the Dwarves, Tarnes drew his staff. He used the ice sorcery Ranni had taught him, and a bridge of solid, glittering ice formed across the river, strong enough for the carriages to cross.

"Magic… wow, that's really cool. Can I learn it?" young Kíli asked, his eyes full of admiration, watching as Tarnes's staff vanished back into thin air.

Fíli patted his shoulder, and the brothers followed the others onto the ice bridge. Every Dwarf stomped on the ice, testing its hardness, but the bridge held firm.

"Fíli," Kíli said to his brother, "if I ask Mr. Tarnes to teach me some Glintstone sorcery, do you think he'll agree?"

Fíli looked at his younger brother, at the bright hope in his eyes, and finally patted his shoulder encouragingly. "Then go and ask, Kíli. We all know Mr. Tarnes is a gentle and easygoing person. He would not be angered by such a question." Then he joked, "Of course, if you succeed, don't forget to ask for me too. I am also very interested in his wizardry."

Kíli nodded vigorously and, gathering his courage, rode to catch up with Tarnes.

"Hmm… Kíli, you mean you want to learn Glintstone sorcery from me?" Tarnes looked down at the Dwarf, surprised by the request. He saw the hard-won courage and eager anticipation in the young man's eyes. But I've never taught anyone before… Tarnes pondered, and his silence made Kíli nervous.

Fíli rode up to stand beside his brother, not daring to make a sound.

Finally, under Kíli's slightly disappointed gaze, Tarnes slowly shook his head. But his next sentence made Kíli's spirits soar once more.

"I'm sorry, Kíli, I'm not very good at teaching. But if you don't mind, once we reach my homeland, how about I introduce you to a Glintstone sorcery teacher? He's an excellent teacher, and the first sorcery I ever learned was taught to me by him."

(End of Chapter)

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