20.i When the Winds Begin to Sing

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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.

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The tournament was arranged such that each contestant shot six times, advancing nearer to the target for each pair of arrows. A judge then tallied the points earned according to which area of the target had been hit. The match proceeded slowly as the contestants took their turns one by one. Well-trained and experienced archers, most scored at least one bull's-eye, and by the time Kíli's turn came, several dwarves were tied with a leading high score.

Taking his place at the furthest mark, Kíli selected an arrow and nocked it to the bow. Then, in one smooth, uninterrupted motion, he drew, sighted, and loosed.

The arrow landed in the ring just outside the target center.

Without pausing for more than a few breaths, Kíli repeated the action, this time placing the arrow within the bull's eye. The crowd applauded.

As Kíli moved up to the midway mark and shot again, there was no mistaking that his technique was as noteworthy as his exotic bow. Where the other contestants took time (occasionally an exaggerated amount) to breathe and sight carefully between shots, Kíli readily and easily loosed his arrows, as if sure of where they would land even before he had drawn the bow.

Indeed, his shots were clustered uniformly about the center of the target, whereas many of the other archers still made the occasional stray shot.

When he had loosed his last arrow, Kíli strode to the target and waited while the referee recorded his score and placed him in the lead. Then he tugged his arrows free and turned back to his original place, a broad, triumphant grin on his face. A round of cheers went up from the watching dwarves, and even the grey-bearded skeptic of earlier clapped his young opponent on the back with an appreciative word.

"I never doubted Kíli's ability, given his part in your victorious quest," Audha remarked then. "Yet I did not expect to see such great skill in a warrior still so young." After a moment's further thought, she added, "But of course, he must be the only archer here ever to have trained with an elf." So she had noticed the distinctive craftsmanship of his bow, as well.

"This may be the best I have ever seen him shoot," Thorin said, implicitly affirming Audha's observation that Kíli had benefitted from his connection to Tauriel.

Dwalin snorted. "On a range, perhaps. 'Tis a vastly different thing when yer facin' down a raging troll, not some wee, unthreatnin' target. What matters then ain't so much a fair style as keepin' yer head clear an' yer hand steady. The lad did no worse then, if not so prettily."

Audha glanced back at the gruff warrior, a light flush coloring her cheeks.

"He's a right hero, lass, as much as any dwarf twice his age," Dwalin affirmed.

She nodded and turned back to watch the rest of the tournament, though Thorin noticed her attention was as much on Kíli as it was on the remaining contestants.

In the end, Kíli won handily by the point value of two shots. As he went forward to receive the prize, a fine hunting knife, his pleasure was unmistakable in his easy smile and bright eyes.

Thorin supposed this victory was, in a way, the last remaining honor Kíli could pay to Tauriel. With a sudden, shocking clarity of insight, Thorin wondered now if Tauriel had once been the inspiration for Kíli's growth in more areas than merely his warrior's skill. Had it not also been for her sake that he wished to prove himself fully honorable? And what future achievements might the young man lose, now that he no longer measured his merit in her eyes? For all that Kíli clearly strove to honor Audha, Thorin was readily aware that his nephew would never hold her in the esteem that he had the red-haired elf maiden.

"Kíli is no less handsome than his brother when he finally smiles," Audha remarked, drawing Thorin's attention again. Seeing his glance, she went on, "They seemed so unlike to me at first, the one dark and the other fair. I suppose Fíli must take his looks from their father?"

"Aye, Fíli is a near image of his sire, both in face and coloring." He chuckled. "My sister always said that Mahal gave Víli his own crown of gold, and that such favor was worth more than any diadem or noble name."

"Their father was not of noble blood?" Audha asked, curious.

"Víli was a merchant's son, well-to-do, but not high-born." Thorin could see that Audha was quite astonished by the idea that such a high princess as Dís would marry below her station. "Those first decades of exile were hard for us all. Our father wanted to see her happy again," he explained.

"Please, I meant no disrespect!" Audha insisted. "Your nephews are both most honorable. I think it very ungracious that some on the Council have doubted them."

Moved by her declaration, Thorin did not first know how to respond. He was grateful for Kíli's sake that Audha did not seem to think her future husband to be compromised in his wits despite having pursued an elf. There was hope yet that the young couple might reach some sort of understanding, though it would not be the love that Kíli's own parents had once shared.

"So you are to be my niece after all," Thorin remarked kindly. If he had married Branca, as he had long-ago promised, Audha would have been the daughter of his wife's brother.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Audha said, her tone warm. "I am very honored to realize this connection between our houses at last."

"Your aunt Branca, I hope, has never regretted that I released her?" Thorin knew she had been relieved at the time, but many years had passed since then, and his situation had once more changed.

Audha gazed at him curiously, evidently wondering if he regretted the choice. "She always speaks highly of you," Audha said. "But not in regret." She momentarily wore an odd expression, and Thorin wondered what she was not telling him.

"I'm glad to hear it," he said, offering Audha the explanation she clearly wanted from him. "I confess I made my choice because I had little interest in marriage then; revenge was foremost in my mind. But I also knew that she must surely be miserable if I dragged her after me into poverty and exile."

Audha smiled slightly. "So she said when my grandfather reminded her she might now be a queen and her sons princes."

Thorin nodded. So that was it: Branca's family had argued over her choice. Yet for all that Audha's betrothal to Kíli might now serve their ambitions, he thought she seemed forthright and honorable, someone he did not object to making part of his house and his line.

"I welcome you now, for her sake, and hope you shall be happy here," Thorin said, knowing the unintentional irony of his words even as he spoke. It would truly be a challenge for Audha to be happy, when Kíli so clearly was not.

But she seemed to take his words as he meant them, for she smiled as he clasped her hand, and then she curtseyed once more.

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