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Dwalin had most certainly not intended to terrify the little child dressed up as Chip from The Beauty and the Beast. He’d gladly swear on it. That kid was hardly up to his waist, and his tufty auburn hair and round freckled face was too adorable to willingly scare. Then those doe-like brown eyes welled up, lip quivering-
And, well, Thorin yanked off his clown mask and smacked his best friend right across his bright blue mohawk.
“Shit!” Dwalin muttered, rubbing his head. He glared at him briefly- Thorin was unphased, just crossed his arms- and looked at the teacup.
He looked dangerously close to wailing and Dwalin felt himself go into panic mode.
“Ah, are- are you okay?” he asked nervously and was pretty sure Thorin was going to hit him again. He looked very scary indeed with his skeleton face paint but no, the kid had to be afraid of clowns.
So Dwalin put his heavy hand on the child’s shoulder, hoping to console him. Somehow. He’d do anything to stop Thorin from giving him that judging look. The raised eyebrows. Hard eyes. Usually accompanied by Bilbo’s incredulous staring. The only thing worse than that was the teacup.
His lips stopped trembling, his eyes widened, and his cheeks went pink as he hollered at the top of his lungs, “DORI-I-I-I!”
Perhaps Dwalin should have started running with how angry Mrs. Potts- er, Dori was. The man waddled down the street, his costume so wide he almost took up the whole sidewalk. By now, parents were looking at Dwalin as if he had just slaughtered a bunny in front of their children.
“Haha, we’re fucked,” whispered Thorin, grabbing ahold of Dwalin’s bicep. His voice was barely above a snake-like hiss as he said, “I told you the clown mask was a little much.”
“It’s not that bad,” Dwalin replied, barely moving his lips, which soon turned slack as a very angry and very short man came up to him. His nose was broad, his silvery hair impeccably groomed, and he had shrewd green eyes that Dwalin could easily see were used to stare down soccer moms at PTA meetings.
What did you say to concerned guardians? Sorry for scaring your kid, at least he didn’t shit himself? Or perhaps the famous Aw, shit! I mean, oops! by the famous Bofur who had been knocked down from head mummy to clean up duty.
“Ah, sir-”
“He scared me!” Teacup shouted suddenly, eyes watering with tears. Dori’s eyebrows raised, his eyes sharpening as they settled on Dwalin tall form. Then Teacup turned around- he struggled slightly, Dwalin noticed- and placed his hands stubbornly at his sides. “Say you’re sorry!”
Dwalin blinked, taken aback at Dori’s silence. “Er-”
The boy just looked at him expectantly and Dori cleared his throat. “Okay, Ori, I’m sure this-” he looked to be finding the right word for Dwalin, preferably one without a swear in it. “Youth-” Oh my God, he’d never hear the end of this from Thorin “-didn’t mean to scare you. Right?”
“Exactly!” Thorin chimed in, elbowing Dwalin in his side. He would’ve elbowed him back, but he found that his binder often padded the blow. His friend leaned down to Ori. “You see, you look a lot like my nephew, Kili. He’s dressed like a robot from a movie. Dwalin here had planned on scaring him instead. You getting scared was just a little mixup.”
Ori still looked unconvinced and slightly offended that Dwalin hadn’t apologized. To be fair, he was a worker outside of a horror house. He was supposed to scare passersby. Including Kili, who had braggingly stated earlier that clowns weren’t scary at all.
“I’m really sorry, Chip- ah, Ori,” Dwalin said sincerely and heard Thorin hide a laugh behind his cough at the address. “If you want, I can get you a discount inside?”
Dori took one look at the shack, its fake cobwebs and spiders in all their glory. “Are there clowns in there?”
“Probably,” answered Dwalin with a shrug.
“No thank you!” squeaked Ori, his candy bag practically quaking.
Dwalin apologized one last time to the kid, Dori nodding stiffly, before they went off to the pumpkin patch nearby and he was left alone with Thorin to bask in his shame.
***
It had been a long, long night, and Dwalin was walking home alone at roughly 4 in the morning. His arms hurt, his shin hurt from that one kid who kicked it (quite ruthlessly, he might add), and he had leapt from the bushes so many times he was sure he had a proper workout. Then some drunken genius had thrown up after Thorin kicked him squarely in the gut. He was thrown out by the manager shortly, but the drunk was wearing a Caitlyn Jenner “costume” so Dwalin felt proud of his friend.
He sighed, looking up at the streetlight. The bus stop was quite close to the horror house and pumpkin patch, only a short walk away. But the streets were mostly dark, there was no little kids anymore, and the only people out were teenagers who thought it would be a grand old idea to egg houses. Balin was probably still awake, on guard and ready to shoot anyone with Kili’s old Nerf gun if they dared to walk across the lawn.
His phone kept buzzing with pictures from Thorin and his girlfriend, Bilbo. Bilbo was dressed as Sally from Nightmare Before Christmas this year, her dark skin painted an ashy gray and her curly brown hair dyed red for the occasion. Thorin looked as skeletal as always, though their reenactment of the classic scene of Sally and Jack on the cemetery hill hadn’t gone as planned (he could hear Kili and Fili singing the Stars Wars theme for absolutely no reason in the background).
He was scrolling through several pictures of Kili and Fili, who were R2D2 and C3PO (Kili had originally wanted to be Princess Leia, but that role was taken by Dis). Then Dwalin smiled and felt something grab his shoulder.
Okay, he would admit it. It wasn’t exactly a scream that came from him. More like the yelp of a wounded dog. Or the squeak of a scared mouse.
But whatever the sound he made, it caused the person behind him to yell, “RAAAAH!” and burst into laughter as he fell flat on his arse.
Dwalin blinked in shock, his butt covered in street gunk, and the figure took off their ceramic doll mask. His smile was huge and cat-like across his freckled face. His hair was a gingery brown and reminded him of a dense bush shaped like a wonky star. Wait a second-
The broad nose was too familiar, the green eyes to bright to not recognize. Son of a bitch.
“That wasn’t funny!” snarled Dwalin, brushing off his jeans. It took the person a while to calm themselves down.
“Yes, it was, actually!” he crowed, wiping a tear from his slightly smudged eyeliner. He let out a giggly breath and looked to be calming down, but the mocking smile remained. “How’s it feel to be scared instead of a wee teacup?”
“I-” he stopped, feeling guilty yet still angry that this stranger had scared him. He had fallen into leaves and muck. Plus he could feel mud on his ass, and these were his favorite jeans. “I hadn’t meant to!”
“Mate,” Ori’s defender said, putting his hand on his shoulder, “don’t bullshit a bullshitter.”
“I’m not a bullshitter!”
His eyebrow arched. Dwalin didn’t like looking into his eyes, so he settled for staring at his hoodie. The nametag read Nori. He must have volunteered at the pumpkin patch.
“Okay, listen. This? Over and done with. I just hoped you learned your lesson.”
“My jeans are stained with shaving cream, silly string, and all kinds of muck from the sewer. Yeah, I’ve learned my lesson.”
Nori just winked at him, shooting a finger gun at him with his long fingers. He looked a lot nicer without the zombie mask.