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If asked, Ori would have to say that the thing he’s most looking forward to when they finally get to Gandalf’s friend’s house is having a good drink or five. Not that he doesn’t appreciate the marvellous spread of food they’re eventually presented with – lack of meat aside, it is a feast compared to how they’ve been eating the past few days – but he’s still reeling from almost dying. Even after a few days, the ground seems always too far away and both not solid enough – like it will break out from under them again – and too unforgivingly solid – and not something he wants to fall down to, please and thank you. And as much as he’s looking forward to a nice safe place to sleep, he needs to be able to sleep to enjoy it.
So he may overdo it slightly when Beorn’s mead gets passed around, not realising that Beorn brews it strong and doesn’t hold with watering it down for anyone. He vaguely marks that the burn is more than he had expected but is too eager to numb his fears a bit so he can relax. Dori gives him a concerned look, but Ori just nods dismissively at him. He’s well aware that drinking to excess is dangerous and won’t really solve anything, he just doesn’t care right here and now. Besides, he thinks sometime later as he finishes his second cup, he’s not the only one enjoying the mead, and while he accepts that he likely can’t hold his own up against Mister Dwalin or really any of the rest of the Company, other than maybe Bilbo, but most importantly Mister Dwalin, masterful Mister Dwalin, he of the very dwarvenly physique and prowess with both his axes and that war hammer that Ori counts himself so very fortunate to have been allowed to use, if only briefly. Giving it back had been difficult, as that had involved actually interacting with the amazing Mister Dwalin, and he’d been too nervous to do better than shove the weapon at its owner. Maybe some day he’ll be dwarf enough to ask Mister Dwalin how to properly use it. Or one of Mister Dwalin’s other weapons, he’s not picky, though he would most like to learn how to use Mister Dwalin’s most personal, private weapon-
Ori nearly giggles and then remembers that he’d had a point he’d been trying to make to himself earlier and decides that maybe it’s time to lay off the mead, though he’s still only had the three, admittedly Beorn-sized, cups. He’ll just finish this one and stop there. There isn’t much left anyway and what harm can it do?
‘Mister Dwalin?’ Dwalin turns from his conversation with Gloin and Balin, who continue without him, to find young Ori standing in front of him, which is strange, since they usually don’t talk. Maybe Ori has had enough to drink to be more social tonight.
‘I’d just like to thank you for being so kind as to allow me to use your weapon,’ Ori says, quickly adding, ‘Your war hammer!’ He giggles briefly. Dwalin isn’t sure what’s so funny about war hammers, but decides he may as well indulge him.
‘You did alright with it, lad.’ Ori practically beams with pride and sits down next to him. Now that they’re closer, Dwalin can confirm that Ori is drunk on their host’s heady mead.
‘Do you really mean that?’ Ori asks, leaning in close.
He’s clearly looking for some sort of affirmation, and Dwalin doesn’t have the heart to tell him that, in the chaos of running for their lives, he didn’t really see enough to judge Ori’s abilities as much beyond must-have-been-good-enough-you’re-alive-aren’t-you. So he pats him companionably on the shoulder and tells him, ‘Of course.’
Ori takes this as a cue to give him a full body hug, never really pulling away so that when he says, ‘I’m ever so glad you think so, Mister Dwalin,’ he’s speaking directly into Dwalin’s ear, and Dwalin reflects that this night is rapidly approaching surreal. ‘I fa- I fervently fancy you, you know. A lot,’ Ori says.
This must be some kind of joke. Dwalin looks around the room for Fíli and Kíli, thinking they’ve somehow put a very drunk Ori up to this, but they’re having their own discussion on the other side of the room with Bofur and aren’t paying any attention to Dwalin and Ori. Indeed, no one is paying them any attention it would seem. He spots Dori chatting with Gandalf and is about to call to him, advise him to put his brother to bed when said brother settles into his side and nuzzles his shoulder.
‘And how are you on thish delightful night, Mister Dwalin?’ Ori asks. Dwalin looks down at him. He really should leave the lad to be drunk alone because with his head pillowed on Dwalin’s shoulder, gaze soft and admiring, Dwalin finds his feelings about Ori hurtling past merely vaguely-aware-and-protective-of-the-overly-young-and-brave and toward, well. Drunkenness aside, it feels right to have Ori this close, and perhaps he would like to have Ori this close or closer more often, in a bed, and without so many clothes.
Dwalin swallows hard and pushes these feelings aside. It wouldn’t be right to act on such feelings in this moment, when Ori doesn’t have a clear head. Besides, there is no time for entanglements on this quest. If this is not a passing fancy, it can be examined and pursued after they have either reclaimed Erebor or died trying. It’s a bit frustrating but not a sad thought (the possibly dying aside). It’s just the way things need to be. At least theoretically. Thinking practically.
‘Mister Dwalin?’ Ori prompts while passing a hand lightly over Dwalin’s back to rest on Dwalin’s other shoulder and pulling himself more firmly against Dwalin.
‘I’m fine, Ori. But perhaps you should go find your bed.’ He starts to stand to help Ori on his way.
Ori grabs at his waist and tries to pull him back down. It’s not so much any sudden strength on Ori’s part, but rather that he looks so hurt that makes Dwalin sit again. ‘I like it here.’ Ori says. He lays across Dwalin’s lap, head pillowed on Dwalin’s thigh. It doesn’t look like a comfortable position to Dwalin, but Ori seems perfectly content. For all Dwalin knows, he could be falling asleep right there, save for the way he’s humming cheerfully every so often and tracing patterns on Dwalin’s knees. Dwalin’s tempted to stroke his hair. It looks so soft, recently washed and rebraided, and he imagines how, if he were to do so, Ori might stretch and resettle more into his lap before actually falling asleep there.
They sit there for a few minutes, Dwalin still amazed that Ori would choose to cuddle with him, much less approach him at all, until Gloin nudges him from his other side. It seems he and Balin have finally noticed Dwalin’s new, living blanket.
Gloin isn’t doing a very good job hiding his amusement over what he clearly thinks is the simple silliness of a drunk young dwarf. Balin, on the other hand, must have been paying more attention and is giving Dwalin a warning smile, needlessly reminding him to be careful with Ori and possibly also to beware Ori’s older brothers.
Dwalin uses Balin’s look combined with the impetus from resisting the urge to pet Ori like some giant cat to whisper at them to get Dori or Nori. Thankfully they understand and soon return with Dori, who takes one look at Ori, shakes his head, and starts trying to apologise.
Ori is so incredibly comfortable laying in Mister Dwalin’s lap, that he barely pays attention to what Dori is saying from somewhere above him. But then Dori tries to pull him away, and he has to scramble to hold on to Dwalin, where he so clearly belongs. Luckily, he manages to latch his arms around Dwalin’s neck, and eventually Dori stops trying to prise him off. Dwalin’s lap was comfortable, but as he relaxes, he begins to realise the joys of being able to press his face to Dwalin’s broad chest. He sighs as Dwalin rumbles something to Dori about taking Ori to bed himself, and one strong arm wraps around his torso. Clearly this is turning into the best night ever.
Then Dwalin stands up.
Suddenly Ori feels like he’s falling all over again. He squirms in Dwalin’s grip as he tries to climb him, but this only seems to throw Dwalin off balance so that he nearly drops him, which is oh so much worse, so Ori just tightens his hold around Dwalin’s neck and wraps his legs around Dwalin’s hips. He might also whimper. He still feels too much like he’s dangling.
Dwalin sits back down, but only briefly. When they rise again, Dwalin has positioned his other arm under Ori’s bottom. The panic Ori felt just moments before is utterly replaced with a feelings of being safe and cared for, mingled with tinges of giggly arousal. He’s got Dwalin so close – touching his bum! even if it is just for support – and he’s vaguely aware that he’s being carried to bed by Dwalin, which might just mean to Dwalin’s bed, of course it must be, and that will be even better than just cuddling with Dwalin after an evening of good food and drink. He wants to sleep with Dwalin. Because he very much likes Dwalin. Because Dwalin is such a sparkling jewel of dwarvelihood, that shines bright in the sun and glows soft under the moon, and not just because he’s shaved the top of his head like Fíli or Kíli would mean because they’re rude and don’t appreciate Dwalin’s beauty – his allure even! – and skills-
And oh! Dwalin’s right here and close enough Ori can feel when he speaks. ‘Hush now, lad. You’re drunk, but you probably still don’t want your brothers to hear you talking about me like that.’
Ori supposes he must have been speaking aloud. He turns his head from the crook of Dwalin’s neck so he can look up at Dwalin and continue speaking unmuffled. ‘But it’s true. I do like you.’ He considers the possible problem of his brothers. ‘And I won’t let them stop me liking you. I have you, and I won’t let you go!’ That should make things very plain. Though there’s something he just wants to confirm, incase he’s imagined it. ‘Are you taking me to bed now?’
‘Yes.’
Ori snuggles closer to Dwalin, pleased. ‘Oh good. I want that. I want you.’ He figures if they’re headed off to bed, he may as well get started with the sexy bits. Though he’s still nervous about this part, the drink helps him get past it. He must remember to thank Beorn in the morning. Or afternoon if this goes well. ‘I want all of you, unclothed and stretched out under me so I can learn your body and how to pleasure you so I can know what you look like when you come,’ he whispers in the vicinity of Dwalin’s ear. He’s proud of those words. He hasn’t rehearsed them, per se, but the general idea has been sitting at the back of his mind for some time now.
Ori feels Dwalin tense, which isn’t difficult as he can feel a lot of Dwalin right now. In fact, if he presses his ear up against Dwalin’s neck, he can hear Dwalin’s pulse speed up. That’s what hearts do, he muses, when attraction is involved. He smiles and rubs a thumb gently along the nape of Dwalin’s neck. He wasn’t sure his feelings would be reciprocated, but he decides now that they must be.
‘Ori,’ Dwalin says, voice slightly strained. Ori hums contentedly into his neck, then wonders if he can lick there without being dropped out of surprise or lust. He’s about to try when he realises Dwalin’s still saying something. ‘Ori. Lad. You’re drunk. I’m not sure you know what you really want, but even if you do, I wouldn’t feel right giving it to you when you’re not sober.’
‘I could give it to you,’ Ori suggests, though he’s not sure he wants to go that far tonight, at least not right away, and later he won’t be drunk, so who knows what would happen. Though he doesn’t feel drunk right now, not really. He should tell Dwalin so. ‘And I’m not that drunk! I only had four cups, and that was ages ago.’
‘You climbed me like a tree, lad, perhaps in a slow and roundabout way that was more cuddling than climbing, but all the same. That’s how drunk you are.’
‘But- no. I- I just wanted to be close,’ Ori protests. ‘And that was then. I’m not drunk anymore!’ This can’t be happening. Sure, it took him a bit of drink to work up the courage to approach Dwalin at first, but this now is all Ori, no – or very little! – drink involved.
‘You’re going to bed now,’ Dwalin says.
That sounds better. Ori hugs Dwalin’s neck, daring a chaste kiss to his neck. ‘Thank you, Dwalin. I’m glad you understand.’
‘Not mine!’ Dwalin sighs and Ori worries that he’s been misreading Dwalin’s supposed reciprocation and that Dwalin’s just being nice. ‘Sleep on it, and if you can talk to me in the morning, we’ll talk.’
Ori tries to figure out if he can get closer to Dwalin than he is now. If he can get close enough, he might not have to let go. He has the vague awareness that there isn’t such a place that he can get to in this moment, at least not physically. ‘It’s just that you make me nervous,’ he admits then hurriedly adds, ‘Not because you’re scary. You- ’ he pauses, trying to get this right, but now his words don’t want to behave. ‘I think you’re awesome and I don’t know what I could hope to offer.’
Dwalin snorts before Ori can hammer together more meaningful words. ‘Don’t sell yourself short, lad. You have plenty to offer, or you wouldn’t be here now.’
‘That’s not what I mean, really.’ He knows he’s good at what he does, that he may not be a fighter or even strong like Dori, but he’s working on a darn- a damn good story about their journey, most of which he’s had to write in his head. He’ll make sure their tale lives on long after they die. But somehow that doesn’t help with talking to Dwalin. ‘I’m having trouble making the words make sense.’
‘All the more reason to talk once you’ve sobered up.’
‘But I’m not interested in talking, now.’ Though Ori’s deciding that he’s rapidly losing interest in sex tonight as well. All this talking and uncertainty has taken him out of the mood and maybe is having some sort of soporific effect. What he wants most now is to just burrow under some blankets with Dwalin. To be able to fall asleep with Dwalin in as many of his senses as possible would be perfect. He presses his head back into the crook of Dwalin’s neck for now. It’s a good start.
‘I’m sorry lad, but I have every reason to believe you are still drunk, and I refuse to take advantage of you. Being in bed with you when you’re this drunk would be that.’
‘But would you like me when I’m not so drunk?’
Dwalin’s answer takes too long, and Ori steels himself for having his heart broken. Maybe then the solution will be more alcohol, not less. Finally Dwalin says, ‘Maybe.’ Ori’s filled with a ridiculous warmth. ‘Like I said, we can talk.’ Dwalin continues. ‘For now, lad, you have to get down so you can go to bed.’
Ori twists and looks around a little too quickly, which makes the room spin. After a brief glance, he shuts his eyes and rests his head on Dwalin’s shoulder. Alongside the acceptance that he really is drunk and the need to return to a world where things are solid and steady, is the surprise that somehow they’ve moved to the hall where mattresses have been laid out for the company to use while in Beorn’s hospitality. He pushes aside the thought that even if Dwalin were interested they wouldn’t have a private bed, in favour of wondering how and when they got here. Had Dwalin been walking as he held Ori? And how long have they been just standing here with Dwalin letting Ori cling to him?
After another minute pulling himself back together – he will not vomit on Dwalin, he will not vomit on Dwalin – he hears voices approaching. Dori and Nori. Which means he has to get down now before they clue in and scare Dwalin off before he and Ori have a chance to work themselves out. Ori hurries to disentangle himself from Dwalin and nearly falls on his arse before deciding that he meant to sit down anyway. Right on his bedroll, which proves it was deliberate, even if the nausea and brief panic as he not-fell were not. Either way, it's nice to feel Dwalin reach out to steady him and keep him from sitting down too hard.
Dori and Nori enter the hall, and Dwalin leaves Ori alone to greet them. ‘Thank goodness. You managed to detach him. I do apologise for my brother’s behaviour tonight. I think the mead was too strong for him, and he’ll regret it all come morning,’ Ori hears Dori say. Ori wants to laugh in his face. Instead he muffles his giggles into his pillow. It’s a wonderfully soft pillow, so he may as well just go to sleep now. He’s had plenty of encouragement tonight that will be better than any liquid courage in the morning.
Dwalin hears Ori giggle into his bedding at Dori’s words and knows that he has some serious thinking to do before he goes to sleep himself. Though the way his stomach bloody well flutters at the sight of Ori cuddled up blissfully in his blankets and the memory of him pressed up against him and trying to properly communicate his thoughts makes Dwalin want to kneel down and whisper to Ori that his answer is already a yes- when Ori can talk to him while sober, Dwalin can definitely see himself returning Ori’s affections. He looks away, realising that he’s been staring, though Dori and Nori are too busy to notice.
Dwalin takes this as his cue that he’s no longer needed here and decides to leave them to their mother-henning. He takes a last glance. Nori’s trying to get Ori to drink the entire pint of water they’ve brought while Dori badgers him with questions about if he needs to use the toilet or if he feels like he’s going to be sick. Ori looks like he just wants to go to sleep now that he’s in a bed, a change Dwalin puts down to the alcohol.
Dwalin calls goodnight as he turns away to return to the main halls, not expecting to be noticed. Then Ori calls back, ‘Goodnight, Dwalin. I look forward to talking much more with you,’ with a happy sigh. Dwalin pauses just long enough to see Dori and Nori freeze. He doesn’t stick around to see the glares they turn his way, though he can still feel the force of them metaphorically shove him out of the room. He hopes they’ll be staying with their brother for the rest of the night, so he has time to sort through his own feelings without their interference. He wants to give Ori at least that.
(Ori doesn’t speak to Dwalin until later the next afternoon (and misses the tense talk between his brothers and Dwalin), but this has more to do with the hangover than any remaining timidity, and by the time they leave Beorn’s, there have been many more conversations. It’s a promising beginning, even if certain members of the company tease him about being an embarrassingly cuddly drunk– just as long as no one insists that detail go in their official story.)