"Me?" Kili asked standing up from the ground, kicking the dead body of the orc just for good measure. "Making sure your plan did not backfire. Hiding under hay, seriously? That’s the first place everyone would check in this kind of situation!" Kili snapped starting to get very annoyed by Thalurin’s attitude to this whole situation.
True, it was his fault that Thalurin had been captured with him. But without him he would have been killed last night and he thought that would count as something. Apparently not. He crouched down beside the body and started to search it for the keys, making sure to touch the creature as little as he could as he yanked the brass keys from the cloth.
"Come on, the faster we get out of here the faster you can get rid of me and continue on your life." He muttered walking over to the bars and opened the door slowly, pushing it open with as little sound as he could.
Even he knew he could be annoying at times, it was his way to cope in stressful situations but he hadn’t thought that someone would actually purely hate him for it.
Shaking his head a bit he pocketed the keys just in case, and frowned thoughtfully. Going disarmed would be stupid.
His eyes scanned the lowly lit area, fires from the torches illuminating the pathway with a pale orange glow. Finding a poorly made spear from one of the barrers Kili yanked it to himself. It would be probably hard to use but better than nothing.
Glancing behind him he made sure Thalurin was still somewhere close before he started to creep forward, knowing they had only little time to find the exit before being discovered.
Thalurin had never fathomed himself an expressly proud person when it came down to the opinions and objections of others encompassing his being, least of all from his own employers and the raucous, simpleminded dolts they christened as ‘valued customers’, but it seemed the Prince strode within another plane of existence entirely from the god-forsaken rabble that nettled his patience like barbs - for none seemed to have come as close to eliciting such frustration out of him as the dwarf now bruising his pride with the blunt, stinging words of disapproval at his actions.
"If you hadn’t noticed," Thalurin hissed out through gritted teeth, bent ever-so-slightly at the waist so he stood at a more even level to his shorter partner, "I convinced the orc to come into our cell. What would you have done?” He enquired, his tone ebbing to that of a low growl the nearer they walked to the mouth of the tunnel, “Invited that thing over to have a leisurely conversation? Oh! How’s our ransom coming along?” Thalurin mocked, his darkened eyes nary straying from Kili’s frame as he chided.
An audible wheezing, akin to that of water touching the skin of heated iron, reverberated up from somewhere in the mines, and Thalurin hushed to peer into the shadows and get some sense as to what he was hearing. It was possible the orc’s had fashioned a smithy, something more or less appropriate for constructing their own brand of crude mish-mash weaponry with, but unless he and Kili investigated further it was nye on impossible to tell what the sound was, or even where it was coming from.
"At the risk of sounding like you: You’re a dwarf," Thalurin began, "Does that sound like metalwork to you? I heard it before…when we were first locked up, and during the night, but the orc’s wouldn’t be foolish enough-" He paused mid-sentence to consider the vast number of dim-witted individuals - one of whom was stood close by to him, mere inches away - of who he’d bore the misfortune of encountering within his lifetime, "Then again." He amended as he regarded Kili, gaze still shaded beneath an intense wariness, but no longer impassioned by a wounded esteem.
Thalurin loathed to seek the Prince’s opinion on the matter but there was no hiding from the fact that Kili, as dwarven royalty, would be all too familiar with the sights and sounds that accompanied a blacksmith’s hazy quarters. He himself had learned in many human smithy’s the trade of creating weapons and armour but this, he imagined, meant nothing to someone who had been born into a culture dedicated to the art of forging and crafting, and Thalurin would be as much a fool as the orc’s if he didn’t look to Kili’s council now to determine if the gamble would be worth their while.
No matter how harrowingly irritating Kili may be, Thalurin would not allow his dislike of the dwarf to be the cause of their failure.