Chapter Text
“Good morning children!” Miss Bella swept into the classroom, her familiar green dress and full skirts rustling as she beamed at the milling dwarves by the door. The few remaining mothers and fathers watched the small hobbit as they left, but she ignored their doubtful gazes as she made sure all her pupils were present, her long hair swept back from her face and streaming down her back in waves that shimmered in the dim sunlight. This small cave sat over the Front Gate and above the throne room, for the King understood that hobbits needed more light than dwarves, and the children enjoyed the novelty of seeing the weather for a few hours each day.
“Good morning Miss Bella!” Everyone chorused and turned from taking off their boots, rushing to sit in a semi circle around her feet. Dwalin and Thorin pushed the other to try and sit in front of their teacher, until she raised her eyebrow and they fell to the floor quickly, waiting breathlessly until her gaze transferred elsewhere.
“You big idiot, she might have sent us to the corner!” Dwalin growled. “And then we wouldn't get cookies!”
“Not this early.” Thorin muttered. “She's happy today. She must not have been missing her mother.” Dwalin said nothing. The death of the Princess last year had rocked the Mountain and her eldest son had been looking after his siblings while his father shut himself away in his forge. Some said the only reason the little school had been started was to give the young princes and princess a distraction from their grief, though they were careful to say such things far from the royal family and their close friends.
“Well, it looks like you all found your seats for today. I thought we all might start off with a story.” The children clapped their hands, Dís jumping up and down in place and even Thorin felt a smile tug at his mouth as Bofur squeaked. Miss Bella smiled and settled herself on the small stool at the front of the room, her hands clasped in her lap and her face serious, but the children stared at her eyes. Today they sparkled, and Balin scooted closer, knowing today the story would be a good one.
Miss Bella’s voice was as fine an instrument as any dwarf could play, a whisper drawing them in, a mere snarl enough to send Frerin fleeing for the corner where the chest full of toys sat. Miss Bella retrieved him easily, letting him sit on her lap and cling to her hair as she finished the story about the wolves in the woods and the brave Rangers who faced them down to save the village. Thorin’s mind was on fire from the battles she had described, and he and Dwalin were only among the first to rush to grab their wooden swords and shields, staging a battle against the tattered stuffed animals. Dís swung her hammer with worrying precision against a green aurochs, leaking stuffing from his nose, and cried out the famous war cry of her ancestors. Miss Bella walked over, Frerin still balanced on her hip, and the young dwarves froze. “What was that, Dís?”
“I shouldn’t have said it.” She dropped the toy and her lower lip jutted out. “Don’t tell papa! I didn’t mean to!” Miss Bella’s eyes went wide, and she gently lowered Frerin to the ground, kneeling and holding out a hand to Dís.
“I won’t tell, I promise. I know your language is a secret, and I won’t ever get you into trouble.” Thorin scowled and kicked a patchwork wolf. Trust Dís to ruin a perfectly good fight. Miss Bella stood and clapped her hands, her voice high and bright. “Well, I can see some of you wanted to play, but why don’t we take a look at some rocks that Bofur’s father was nice enough to bring me, and you can tell me what they are! And maybe there will be a prize for whoever can name the most.” Miss Bella might have only been in Erebor two weeks, but she had already discovered a few of her homemade biscuits and cookies were enough to bribe her way through any difficulty with her pupils. Dwalin sat near the front, scowling in concentration as Bofur tried to get his attention, his tiny hat perched at an odd angle and his braids sticking out from behind his ears.
“My papa found all the samples. I’m going to be a miner one day. What about you, Dwalin?”
“I’m gonna be a fighter like my mom.” Dwalin finally grumbled, touching his hair, shorn into a new crest. “Be quiet, she’s about to start and I want a cookie!” Miss Bella uncovered a tray of different rocks. Thorin recognized many of them, but there were a few that might prove difficult. Miss Bella set the tray down in the middle of the semi-circle, her skirts pooling around her as she knelt.
“To make this fair, I want hands only. No shouting out answers until I call on you. Raise your hand and I’ll be the judge of who was first.” Glares were exchanged around the group, Dwalin especially intent on Bifur who was looking at the rocks with a big smile. Miss Bella’s hand touched a chunk of rough rock, white and black with rough crystals. Nori’s hand shot up faster than everyone’s, and Thorin felt surprised. He hadn’t thought the wiry dwarf paid any attention to the mines, being the son of weavers.
“Diorite!” Miss Bella turned the rock over and read the small tag attached to the bottom.
“Very good, Nori! Catch!” She tossed the small rock to the squirming Nori, who caught it and cuddled it to his chest, smirking at Ori who pouted, arms crossing over his chest. “Next one?” She touched a rock with large crystals set into a lighter rock. This time Dwalin’s hand nearly took Bofur’s hat off. Miss Bella nodded to him and he grinned widely.
“Pegmatite!”
“Hey, that’s not fair!” Bofur leapt to his feet. “That’s not a real rock!”
“Is too!” Dwalin scrambled to his feet and glared down at the smaller dwarf. “It’s a specific gathering of crystals of similar size that contain precious stones sometimes!”
“And it’s found in the third, seventh, eleventh and twelfth mine shafts.” Thorin smirked. He had been eavesdropping on a meeting his grandfather had been mediating between the miners and the jewelers. Miss Bella put her hand over her eyes.
“Bofur, your father gave me these and wrote what they were. Now, this sounds like it might be a good lesson for everyone else.” And the children were sure she whispered, “And me, blessed Yavanna preserve my sanity.” She cleared her throat and went to her small desk, retrieving a blank piece of slate, a rough pebble of chalk and a damp rag. “Dwalin, you were right. Here. Now, Bofur, tell me why you think it isn’t a real rock.” Theories about what a rock really was and whether a specific crystal formation could be called a rock as opposed to a homogenous specimen wavered back and forth over the young dwarves while Miss Bella took notes. Eventually an agreement was reached that since much of the wealth of Erebor was contained within varying pegmatite deposits, they were a distinct type of consistent conglomerate, and Dwalin’s win was legitimate. Miss Bella looked at the slate she had covered in chalk as she wiped her hands and sighed. “I think it might be best if I keep this for now for myself.” The children giggled as she propped up the fragment on the wall and continued the game. Shale, gold bearing ore and flint were easy, Thorin gaining one rock, Balin his first and Dwalin a coveted second. Dís surprised them all by indentifying peridotite, and Ori shrieked when he caught his small gypsum crystal. Bifur kissed his granite and soon all of the children had at least one small rock in front of them. Bofur had two after recognizing pumice, and to Dwalin’s obvious dismay, Thorin claimed the last sample.
“That would be rhyolite.” The prince tossed his braids over his shoulder, holding his prizes smugly. Of course he would know more, being among the oldest, but Miss Bella’s smile and a possible cookie were on the line and this was no time to cede anything graciously. Dís pouted at him from her spot by Óin and Dori, and Thorin knew he hadn’t heard the last of this.
“Ah, I thought this might happen.” Miss Bella smiled. “A three way tie. You all did very well, though. I will show one more thing, and you will each write down what you think it is.” She went to the desk, cradling something in her hand. Bofur, Dwalin and Thorin leaned forward intently. “Dís, would you hand out some chalk, and Glóin, will you grab them each a slate?” They toddled off quickly as Miss Bella settled down and kept her hands curled in front of her chest, the anticipation building. Frerin was chewing on his sleeve, bouncing up and down as the three last combatants received their weapons and sat with poised hands. Miss Bella turned her hands dramatically and each dwarf stared at the strange green thing held between her fingers.
“What…”
“Hush.” Miss Bella cocked her eyebrow at Bombur, who clasped his hands over his mouth. “Well, my dears?”
“That’s not fair!” Dwalin growled. “That’s not a rock!”
“No, it’s not. But it is something I showed you all last week.” Miss Bella smiled gently. “And life is not always fair, Dwalin. It will change on you in the blink of an eye, and you must decide how you will respond.” Dwalin opened his mouth as though to argue, but she raised her eyebrow another inch and he dropped his gaze to the thing she held so gently. Thorin chewed on his thumbnail, mind racing to previous lessons. Bofur squeaked again and dropped to his slate, covering it with one hand while he scribbled, chalk squeaking as he giggled.
With a dawning of a distant memory, Thorin blinked as he remembered and started to fill out his slate, fingers trembling as he tried to form the runes correctly. Dwalin shrugged, scrawled something down, and tossed the slate into Miss Bella’s lap. She glanced down at what he had written, her mouth shaping out the letters. She still didn’t read their runes very well, though she was doing fine for an outsider, and with a sigh she shook her head. “Bofur, Thorin?” They handed their small slates to her and she chuckled. “You’re both right. Well, well. Yes. This is an oak leaf. And so here you go.”
She made two large cookies appear from her sleeves, handing each dwarfling one as the others gasped in disappointment. Thorin stared at the treat filling his hands and bit into it, dimly aware of smaller cookies being given to the rest of the class. Miss Bella gathered the samples and another bout of playing begun, but Thorin sat where he was and finished his cookie bite by bite until Miss Bella sat across from him again, the oak leaf still in her hands. “That was well done, Thorin. How was the cookie?”
“Can I have another?” She laughed and handed him the leaf.
“No, not today. Else you won’t have room for your dinner and your father might be upset with me.”
“He wouldn’t know.” She frowned but said nothing for a long moment.
“I don’t know very much about your people, Thorin. But you know I lost my parents very recently?” Thorin nodded.
“I was there when grandfather got your letter from Rivendell. He said you would be better than any pointy haired tree eater.” Her eyes went wide and she snorted a laugh as Thorin continued seriously. “And he said your grief might make you a good teacher for us. Then he saw I was under the table and made me leave.”
“Well, I just want you to know I understand a little bit of what you and your siblings are going through. So if you ever need to talk about it, come and find me.”
“What part of the Mountain did grandfather put you in? Not down with the workers?” Miss Bella stood as a high-pitched shriek reached her.
“Frerin, don’t climb that!” She rushed away to stop Frerin falling from the bookshelf and Thorin went to go join Dwalin in the war they were staging against the vicious toys, losing himself in battle until it was time for naps, Miss Bella singing a song from her home, drawing curtains over the windows, until her class slept and she could sit at her desk, writing something until her small timer ran out of sand. As she woke the slumbering dwarves as gently as she could, she had to dodge two punches thrown as Dwalin and Glóin woke, and a kick from Nori, sighing over the strangeness of dwarf children versus hobbits. With gentle instructions, Miss Bella started the class on whatever art activities they wanted to try, many of them gathering around the low table and grabbing for the graphite sticks to sketch, others going to the clay and starting grand projects. But someone was missing from the group.
Thorin turned to see Balin perched on Bella's knee, his face serious as he inexpertly braided some of her hair. The prince scowled. Miss Bella had the softest hair and she let everyone take turns practicing different techniques. They were supposed to take turns but Balin managed to be first every day. Thorin went back to the blank paper, trying to think of something to draw. His hand started to move carefully, sketching out a memory, and he barely noticed Bifur and Glóin starting to shove the other, trying to scoot closer to their teacher to be next on her lap, and Ori expertly slipping around them to tug on her skirt as she set Balin on his feet. But he did glance up when she started to sing another hobbit tune, rocking back and forth until Ori pouted that she was disturbing his braid.
Frerin and Dís were both building Erebor out of the clay Miss Bella had colored somehow, the River Running a long snake of red and the slopes a dizzying mix of purple and green, as they argued about where to put Dale down below. Thorin finished and titled his head back and forth, deciding he was done. His mother’s axe, with the diamond pattern on the handle, and unique triangular head, leapt off the page and he rolled it up carefully. Miss Bella was looking over the classroom as Ori finished and beckoned Thorin over as Ori slipped from her lap and scurried to join in the mountain building. Thorin trotted over and Miss Bella hefted him into her lap, letting him comb out Ori’s braid and start his own. She hummed as she sat perfectly still, occasionally reminding Dwalin not to throw things at his brother, and Thorin decided he was very happy she had come to Erebor.