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Dwalin scowled at the ceiling of the cave. It was utterly impossible to sleep with little Ori next to him trembling on his mat, jumping and whimpering whenver thunder cracked above their heads.
The storm had forced the company to take refuge in a cave, although none were too eager to do so after their last encounter landed them in goblin town. Dwalin wondered if that and the storm giants were playing into Ori's intense fear, for he'd been around the younger during a storm and hadn't seen him react in such a way.
It was too much, finally, and with a glance toward the mouth of the cave where Thorin was keeping watch, Dwalin tossed off his cloak and joined Ori on his bedroll. The young scribe gasped and twisted around, but Dwalin lay a hand on his shoulder as he settled with his chest against Ori's back and hushed him.
"Don't worry, lad." He grumbled, trying to find his gruff demeanor as the young one trembled against him. "It's just a bit of rain; there are no giants or goblins in these parts." He said in an attempt to be comforting. It wasn't his strong suit; he should have asked Balin to deal with the boy.
Ori turned, puffing his chest up as he had in their burglar's house when he found his courage in the talk of the dragon, and was about to tell Dwalin off, to get back on his own mat, when an especially loud crack of thunder boomed overhead and the cave was momentarily bright with lightning, and anything brave Ori had intended to say escaped him in a sob and he launched himself at Dwalin's chest, twisting to bury his face in the warrior's shoulder.
Dwalin sighed softly and pulled him in tight, one large hand cupping the back of Ori's head and making hushing sounds and once again wishing he had sent Balin instead as another sob shook the scribe in his grasp. He muttered quiet things and dropped kisses atop Ori's head until the younger pulled back, flushed with embarrassment.
"I'm sorry, Mister Dwalin," he mumbled wiping his eyes with his warm woolen mittens. And he looked so flustered and ashamed that Dwalin had to sigh and tuck Ori's head beneath his chin and tell him it was fine.
Even the warm presence and strength of arms around him though, did not quell Ori's fears, and he still jumped against Dwalin's chest with every crack of thunder and flash of light, and Dwalin began to wonder how he might soothe the young one's fears so they could both get some sleep.
Dwalin had such a soft spot for the baby of the company, like a kitten who'd yet to grow into his claws, and he would be lying if he said that despite the circumstances, the terror that kept Ori against him, he wasn't enjoying the closeness of the scribe.
Ori was still shaking and Dwalin sighed, took advantage of the opportunity that might never show its face again, and tilted Ori's head up to plant a kiss on his lips and swallow the whimper that escaped. He didn't give Ori much chance to breath, or himself much chance to think about what he was doing, holding Ori's chin in one hand and hip in the other, kissed him senseless and when he drew away, the younger was blinking stupidly and not trembling anymore.
"Go to sleep," the warrior grumbled, pulling Ori once against to lie flush against his chest, "no harm will come to you this night."