In a Father's Embrace

Chapter 7

"That is disgusting," Thraya muttered. "Absolutely repulsive. You should be right at home, Kee."

"Hey!" Kili protested.

Fili chuckled. "That was a good one, Ray. Your wit is getting sharper, and I will take full credit."

"No, it's all me," Kili insisted. "And besides. Why do you only ever pick on me?" he demanded.

Fili slung his arm around Thraya's shoulders. "Face it. I'm her favorite."

Thraya rolled her eyes and ducked out of his grasp. "I don't play favorites. I hate both of you equally. And Kili," she stage-whispered. "I only give you crap cuz you can handle it. Fili would break down crying."

Fili glowered as the two of them laughed loudly.

"See what I mean?" she said, pointing to his face.

"I resent that," Fili said, taking a deep breath to compose himself.

"Children," Thorin called, motioning them to follow him into the cave.

Thraya gave one of Fili's braids a little tug before following her father.

Kili gave Fili a mischievous smirk. "Ladies first," he said with a little bow.

Fili rolled his eyes and shoved Kili towards the mouth of the cave.

Ignoring the stench, Thraya looked around, flashing from impressed to disgusted as she noticed the collection of treasures and then that of human limbs.

"I take it back," Thraya muttered. "Even Kili isn't that repulsive."

Kili smirked. "Fili, on the other hand..."

Thraya rolled her eyes.

"Oh, look at these!" she exclaimed, drawing their attention to a collection of weapons, piled in the corner. "This is fancy," she said, lifting a dull miniature knife with an emerald encrusted handle. "But probably too small to be useful."

Fili shrugged. "I think it could be a decent hairpin, but probably nothing more than that."

"And who has a use for this fancy of a hairpin? Some snobbish elven princess?" Thraya tossed the pin back on the pile.

"Perfect for you, then," Kili said.

She fixed him with a glare sharper than her sword. "I am not snobby, nor a princess, and I barely qualify as an elf."

Thorin chuckled. "Mizimith, you are much too practical. Perhaps these would suit you better?" he handed her a pair of long knives with carved ivory handles. Simple, yet pretty.

"Perfect!" she laughed. "And one of my blades got stuck in that toll's hand when they turned to stone." She pulled one of them out of the double-scabbard. The silver blade was honed to a deadly edge. She followed her father and Gandalf where they found a pair of elaborate swords.

"These swords were not made by any troll," Thorin remarked, examining a cobweb-covered hilt.

Gandalf picked up the other. "Nor were they made by any smith among men. These were forged in Gondolin. By the High Elves of the First Age."

Thorin's face contorted in disgust at the mention of elves and he was about to put the sword back when Gandalf stopped him.

"You could not wish for a finer blade," the wizard said sternly. Reluctantly, Thorin unsheathed the blade a bit, begrudgingly impressed by the workmanship.

Thraya gave it an admiring look. "Those high elves back then were probably much wiser and better than the Woodland pixies we have to deal with these days. I'm glad I was raised by someone with intelligence."