Work Text:
Voices
The worst part, they soon discovered, of being the small group who were meant to infiltrate evil’s stronghold, was having not the faintest idea what the rest of their Fellowship were up to, or where the various armies they were relying on had got to. Thorin had told them early on that Erebor’s advance force had marched out to meet him, and that Thranduil and Elrond had sent out messengers to their own lands immediately afterwards.
However that still left any number of factors in play. An advance force was not the whole army. That would have to be collected from Erebor itself. Messengers could summon the armies of Rivendell, the Woodland Realm and Dale, but they could not make those armies march any faster.
‘It’s not even as if we can check,’ Fíli complained to Thorin under his breath, trying not to be heard by any of the others. ‘The Morannon’s at least 50 leagues away. Even Legolas would struggle to cover that distance quickly enough to be of use.’
‘Perhaps I should have kept the elk,’ Thorin responded whimsically. Fíli frowned at his uncle, then thumped his arm gently when Thorin seemed unrepentant. ‘Helpful comments, Uncle,’ he scolded with a hint of bitterness. ‘You’re meant to offer the leader of your Fellowship helpful comments.’
‘I seem to remember a certain nephew of mine rendering all sorts of decidedly unhelpful commentary to me over the course of his life,’ Thorin pointed out. ‘It is not so pleasant when the hammer is hitting your thumb, is it, Fíli?’
‘Returning to the problem at hand,’ Fíli answered, rather than getting any further into a losing argument. This time he ensured his voice was audible to all of their Fellowship, ‘how do we know where the army is?’
‘We do not,’ Thorin answered, seriously this time. ‘Without being able to speak to others as the elves do, I can offer you no answers, akhûnith.’
Then, suddenly, they all heard Kíli give a muffled shriek.
‘Kí?’ Fíli asked worriedly, moving to his brother’s side.
‘Don’t DO that!’ Kíli exclaimed, though he forced his voice to a whisper. That much was sheer force of habit by now.
‘I didn’t do anything!’ Fíli found himself protesting in the same tone, completely baffled.
‘Not you,’ Kíli dismissed. ‘Uncle.’
‘I did not think I had done anything either,’ Thorin remarked in confusion.
‘You made suggestions,’ Kíli clarified, though it was not a terribly helpful clarification. ‘When they’re listening,’ he expanded.
Fíli would openly confess himself unenlightened.
‘Kíli, dear lad,’ Bilbo said with the patient air of one who had been dealing with excitable dwarves for a good portion of their life, ‘do try to make sense.’
‘Uncle suggested that we could use elven far-speaking,’ Kíli retorted, ‘and then suddenly I had voices in my head!’
‘You’ve had voices in your head for years,’ Fíli couldn’t resist pointing out. ‘It’s just a pity none of them are any more sensible than you are.’
Kíli visibly restrained himself from starting a brawl right there, which gave Fíli some indication that his brother was actually being serious. Reaching out to touch Kíli’s arm, he rubbed it in a soothing fashion.
‘Elven voice?’ he asked Kíli evenly.
‘Yes,’ Kíli responded emphatically. Fíli raised a questioning eyebrow, to which Kíli returned a tap of his hand to the cloak he’d received in Lothlorien, a jerk of his head towards Mordor and another jerk of his head towards the river. Along with a few moments of eye contact the gestures told Fíli all he needed to know.
‘Message from Lady Galadriel,' Fíli said worriedly. 'It’s about to get a lot more crowded around Osgiliath. If we’re going to make it to Minas Morgul we need to move fast.’
‘He’s making that up,’ Frodo objected disbelievingly. ‘Kíli didn’t say that. He didn’t say anything!’
‘You should know better than that by now, Frodo,’ Bilbo chided gently. ‘What one of those idiots knows the other knows too. They only have so much intelligence, they have to share it more often than not.’
Fíli looked wearily at his uncle, who simply shrugged as if to say, ‘Now you know what I have to put up with.’
Really, why anyone wanted to be a leader was beyond him. If he had to put up with this sort of thing all the time when he was King he was going to run away to the Woodland Realm and make Kíli do all the kingly things. Or maybe Ori. Ori was good at things like this and he was a Durin… sort of. If you squinted.
‘Do not even think of it,’ Thorin stated, grasping Fíli’s arm to get his attention. ‘Balin would hunt you down and drag you back by your beard.’
That, Fíli reluctantly acknowledged, was entirely true. And Balin’s family had such an unfortunate history of living for years and years and years if they weren’t killed in battle. He might very well be there to actually do it.
‘Army of orcs marching on Osgiliath,’ Kíli reminded them both pointedly. ‘Strange elven women in my head. Actual current problems we need to be dealing with.’
‘Do not let Lord Celeborn hear you calling Lady Galadriel strange,’ Legolas advised him. Kíli all but stamped his foot in irritation.
‘Why didn’t she do that to you?’ he demanded irritably. ‘You’re an elf, surely it would have made more sense.’
‘Perhaps she likes you better,’ Legolas suggested. Kíli hmphed with annoyance.
‘Problem at hand,’ Bilbo stated firmly, hands on his hips. None of them were stupid enough to ignore that stance when they saw it and conversation immediately turned to the problem of Osgiliath.
***