So, a while ago I wrote a The Hobbit fanfiction, so, since I have posted the Quicksilver fanfictions, I shall post this one, too. Hope y'all like it.
~Maddie :)
(Yeah, bad edit)
Prince of Erebor
A Tale of Resurrection
ONE
Kili opened his eyes, one thought running through his head: She kissed me. Cautiously looking to see his surroundings, he found that he was in a small, dark room, laying on something flat made of stone. Cold chills ran up and down his body, forcing himself to stay awake. His stomach ached from where Bolg had stabbed him, and he sat up, his hand resting on his wound. The ceiling of wherever he was was low, and his hair barely brushed it. A soft sigh escaped his lips, and he moved so that he was on his knees, and he felt around for any sort of door.
Air.
Air was coming in from somewhere. Kili felt along the walls, in the corners, anywhere where there could be an opening. He stopped suddenly, feeling a small latch. Why would they lock it from the inside? he thought, tugging on the latch, and watching the door swing open. As he stepped out, he saw that he was in the royal burial grounds in Erebor.
“Fili,” he muttered, moving to another tomb, on which was written his brother’s name in dwarven. “Oh, Fili.” And he ran his hand over the runes, gasping as dirt and dust fell. “How long has it been?” he mused to himself, looking around once again. To the left was a third tomb, and above this one was written Thorin’s name. Kili, stumbling, moved now to his uncle’s tomb, and sunk to the ground beside it.
Tears filled his eyes and he wept silently, covering his face with his hands. His family was gone-- all of them, dead. He leaned his head back against the stone, his eyes moving up, staring at the ceiling high above him.
“I must find the others,” he whispered, wiping the tears away and standing, resting his hand on the tomb to steady himself. Slowly, he made his way from the burial grounds, out into the halls of Erebor. Voices sounded all around him, though he saw no other dwarves. Walking down to the mines, he saw that this was where everyone was. They walked here and there, paying no attention to Kili, who watched in awe at their work. Taking silent leave, he walked out into the vast halls, heading to the throne room. Thorin’s hoard of gold and jewels had been tidily piled away, and the castle was neat again.
Kili, cautiously entering the throne room, stayed to the shadows, and looked to Dain, who sat on the throne, Thorin’s crown on his head. He was speaking loudly to one of the dwarven miners, and being rather rude. Kili laughed, but stopped when a pain rushed through him from his stomach. He gently touched his wound, and stepped back from the room.
As he turned around, he stopped suddenly, and took a step back. Standing in front of him was Nori, though his hair was greying, and his skin wrinkled. He held in his hand a gem, crafted into the shape of a star. His smile faded, and Kili stepped forward.
“Nori,” he began, but the dwarf opened his mouth as to say something, so Kili fell silent. Then Nori screamed suddenly, very loudly, and, dropping the star, turned and ran back in the direction of the mines.
“What’s all the commotion?” Dain’s voice echoed, and footsteps approached. Kili, not wanting to frighten anyone else, looked around for somewhere to hide. There was a small spot under the stairs, and so he ran there and hid, covering himself in the shadows. Dain stepped from the throne room and looked around. When he saw the star at his feet, he picked it up, and, looking around again, said loudly, “Well, thank you!” and then turned back and retired to the throne.
Kili, sliding down the wall, sunk to the floor, angry at Nori for screaming, and wished for someone who would understand him. So, he hurried up the stairs, to where his room had been, and, making sure that no one was around, slipped inside, and took a cloak from a peg. Sliding it over his shoulders, he tied it together, and took his bow and quiver, which hung beside it. He snuck back downstairs.
A crowd gathered in the hall, speaking to Nori, who was yattering on about seeing a ghost. Kili, slipping into the crowd, pardoned his way toward the doors. All of the damaged places in Erebor had been fixed, so Kili figured that a good deal of time had passed since his death. Slowly, he pushed the doors open, but they creaked, and a few of the dwarves turned to face him.
“Just where are you off to?” one of them demanded. Kili, lowering his head, scratched his beard, which had grown almost half an inch in his time in the tomb.
“For a walk,” he replied, making sure to avoid eye contact.
“There’s work to be done, though!” the dwarf said.
“Well, I notice you lot aren’t doing anything about it,” he shot back, and turned to the doors again. But the dwarf slapped his hand on Kili’s shoulder and wheeled him around.
“Why are you so cheeky?” he demanded. Kili kept his head down, saying nothing. “Answer me, dwarf!”
“I-I’m sorry!” Kili exclaimed, wincing as the dwarf’s grip tightened.
“You should be. Now, come back down to the mines, and we will continue our work with no distractions.” The dwarf turned, shoving Kili ahead of him. Swallowing hard, Kili moved with the crowd, and they marched back down, each muttering his own thoughts about what Nori had said.
As they slowly filed back into the mines, they spread out, each going to his own unit, and returning to work. Kili wandered around, seeing if their was anything he could do. Many of the dwarves shooed him away, telling him not to bother them and to find his own work to do. Then the dwarf who had spoken to him earlier came to him with a hammer, and gave it to him. Kili, with a grunt, let the hammer’s weight pull him down to the ground. The dwarf muttered something, and tugged Kili back to his feet.
“Don’t be such a wimp,” he said roughly, hitting Kili in a supposed-to-be-friendly way in the stomach. The dwarf prince doubled over with a groan, and staggered backwards. The dwarf looked shocked, and took the hammer. “Fine, go work the bellows, then.” he said.
“No,” Kili replied, tired of the pain that the work inflicted on his already damaged body. “I am injured.”
“Sure, whatever,” the dwarf said. “We’d all like to say that to get out of work, but we can’t. So pull it together and work the bellows.”
“No.”
“Do as I say!” The dwarf stepped forward, raising his hand.
“No!” Kili slid off his hood in anger. “I am prince of Erebor and you will not tell me what to do!”
And then silence fell.
The dwarves stared at him, their eyes wide. They muttered things-- things about his death being so many years ago. He sighed, and hurried away, tugging his hood back over his head. He hadn’t meant to take it off, he was only so angry. He ran to the doors, and shoved them open, running out. He ran down to the seashore, at the foot of the mountain, and there he stopped. He sat down in the rocks, tossing small pebbles into the lapping water. Crossing his arms, he looked up to the sky, in which snow clouds formed, threatening the Lonely Mountain.
Kili sighed, turning his gaze to the forest just across the lake. Mirkwood, he thought, rubbing his hands together. It was winter, and snow was beginning to fall around the dwarf prince. He shivered, and wrapped his cloak tighter around him. He would not go back to Erebor-- not just yet. He had in his mind a mission, and also a question. Why did he come back, and how? Why now? With a shrug, he looked about. A wooden dock extended out to the lake, surrounded by several small boats. Kili, standing, walked to one, and pondered on whether or not he should leave.
“Definitely,” he muttered, beginning to untie on of the boats. “If I want to bring them back.” Who or what he was speaking of was his own business, and shall not be divulged quite yet. Stepping into the boat, he took up the oars, which he used to push off from the dock. The boat glided for a while as Kili found a spot to sit, and then, taking the oars, he rowed toward Mirkwood, his thoughts set on one person.
TWO
The boat eased to a stop at the Mirkwood borders, and Kili climbed out, tying it once more to the dock there. This was where-- all those years ago-- that the company of dwarves had met Bard, a man from Laketown. Kili sighed, and moved away from the boat, heading toward the gates leading into the king’s realm. He didn’t know where Tauriel had gone after the Battle of Five Armies, but he knew that this was where she had come from, and so this was where he first would look. As he neared the gates, he heard the sound of swords clashing, and orcs grunting. Glancing at the bow and quiver behind his shoulder, Kili climbed over the back gates, finding no soldiers on guard there. The woods around him, however, were filled with elves and warmongering orcs, all fighting. The lone dwarf watched from a distance, his eyes searching for Tauriel.
Not being able to recognise anyone from that height, Kili climbed into a tree, and peered out from the leaves. Then he saw her, fighting with an armoured troll. Her bow was snapped in two on the ground, and she backed up, a smile tugging at her mouth. With a shout, she leapt upon the troll, spinning it round, and wrapping her arms about it’s neck. It grunted and flailed it’s arms, trying to snatch Tauriel off. Kili smiled, watching the struggling troll. Finally, it lost it’s balance, and toppled over. The elf leapt off, and stood, watching as the troll struggled to get back up. But it was too heavy, and she took it’s sword and slue it.
Now the orcs were fleeing, regretting their decision to even come there. Kili watched them, and then turned to see the elves retreating back into the realm.
“Tauriel!” Kili called, climbing down from his spot in the tree. The elf turned around, her red hair swaying behind her.
“Kili?” she said, running to him as he stood on the forest floor. She bent forward and hugged him. “But you died.” She said, and Kili nodded.
“And for Heaven knows what reason, I’ve been brought back,” he replied, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Tauriel, you were the one thing on my mind when I woke. I believe Fate gave me new life so that we can be together. That is,” he stepped back, and looked up at her. “If you’ll have me.” Tauriel nodded.
“Of course, Kili,” she said, taking his hands. “Oh, of course.”
“Well, then,” he kissed her hand gently. “Amrâlimê.” He looked up when she smiled. “So you do know what it means,” he cocked his eyebrow and she nodded, standing straight.
“Yes,” she said with a sigh. “Yes, indeed.” And, letting go of one of her hands, Kili lead her away.
They walked along, under the trees, hand in hand, the breeze ruffling through their hair. Kili glanced up at her, and she down at him. He smiled, and then continued walking. Neither of them said anything, but walked in silence, listening to the whistling wind.
“How long has it been, Tauriel,” he asked. “Since I died?” The elf looked thoughtful, tightening her grip on his hand.
“Nigh thirty years,” she replied, and then laughed. Kili looked up, confusion written on his face.
“What is so funny?” he asked. Tauriel reached down and ran her hand under his beard.
“You grew it out,” she said with a slight chuckle. Kili put his hand over his chin, looking down.
“I was dead for a quarter century,” he replied. “Of course it’d grow out.”
“I wonder why you came back, though,” she said. “Why now, and not some other time?”
“I’ve been asking myself the same questions,” he said.
“Oh, well, if we’re leaving Mirkwood,” Tauriel said, releasing his hand. “Then I’ll have to take some things. I came back here only for a short visit, hoping Legolas would be here, but apparently he’s gone to find a Ranger somewhere. And then the battle happened…” she paused, looking about at all the scattered orc corpses.
“Go and gather your things,” Kili said. “I shall come with you.” A smile tugged at Tauriel’s mouth, and she wore an unreadable expression. With a nod, she turned, and hurried away, Kili following close behind. She walked inside, whispering something to the guards standing their on her way in. Kili glanced at her, and skipped to catch up with her long strides.
“I must speak with Thranduil,” Tauriel stopped, resting her hand on Kili’s shoulder. “Stay here, stay out of everyone’s way. If anything happens, call for me.” The dwarf nodded, and stepped back against the wall, as Tauriel walked away. The elves who passed him by cast strange glances his way, but he slid on his hood and lowered his head. Tauriel walked by again, and tossed him a smile. She hurried away down the stairs, and along a winding walkway. Kili sat down.
Only a few minutes later, two guards approached him, and took hold of his arms, tugging him to his feet. Struggling, Kili tossed his hair from his face.
“Let me go!” he demanded, trying to pull away. The elves seemed to pay him no mind, but instead, lead him away, on a path he had been taken down so many years ago. They passed Tauriel, who was speaking with Thranduil. She turned round to watch them go by. “Tauriel!” Kili exclaimed, his voice squeaked. But she only watched, with the same expression on her face as earlier.
“Take him to the lowest dungeons,” she told the guards. “I want to see what his problem is.”
“I’ve no problem!” Kili shouted, struggling harder. But the guards’ grips were strong, and they took him away.
Night fell.
The guards threw Kili into a dungeon cell and slammed the door, locking it. When they left, Tauriel silently walked down to where he was, and knelt by the door. Kili moved to the back of the cell, watching her cautiously.
“Kili,” she said, reaching her hand to him. He stepped back, pressing himself against the wall. “I do not want to harm you, but I am suspicious about you.”
“Do not speak to me,” Kili warned, his voice low. “Stay away!”
“Kili,” Tauriel said again.
“No!” he shouted. “I loved you, Tauriel, I loved you, and you treat me like this?” He slid down the wall and sat on the floor, crossed his arms. The elf sighed, and stood, turned away.
“There may have been something once, Kili,” she said. “But cannot love you anymore. I’ve no time for romantic dwarves.”
“But--” Kili huffed as she walked away, and he buried his face in his hands. Then Thranduil came down, and stared at Kili for a moment, his eyes held something cold and angry. He turned swiftly and whipped away. Kili sighed, and slowly drifted off to sleep.
THREE
The moon rose high over the plains, the grass swayed gently in the night breeze. A young maiden stood near a trickling stream, her light brown hair just past her shoulders, and her blue eyes staring up at the stars. Her dress was white, satin, and the skirt flowed out in the back, rippling in the soft wind over her bare feet. The moon’s reflection shone in the blue water, luminescent over the grass. There was something not normal about the maiden, a secret she hid.
Another figure came, also barefooted. He was short, and his hair was dark, falling over his shoulders in soft waves. His hazel eyes were set on the maiden, and a thin stubble of a beard scratched across his face. He walked to her, and she looked upon him. The air was filled of silence, but words were not needed. He reached out and took her hand, and the two of them stood there together, gazing up at the stars and the moon.
Kili jolted awake, his fringes pressed against his sweat-covered forehead. It had all seemed somehow real. His hands gripped the rim of his shirt tightly as he lay there in the dark, listening to the singing of elves. It was early morning, just after dawn, and the elves were already awake and busy, though a seldom few passed by the dungeons, casting little to no glances at the dwarf locked within. Kili stood, pushing his hair from his face, and walking to the cell door. His stomach growled, and he looked around, his fists clenched. He was angry at Tauriel for doing this to him.
As he was deep in his thoughts, a dark-haired elf came down to him, a ring of keys in his hands, muttering things.
“Surely I shall lose my position…” he was saying. He stopped in front of Kili, his hands shaking. “You dwarves need to stay away from Mirkwood,” he said. “Go and bother some other place.” With a glance over his shoulder, the elf unlocked the door, tugging it open silently. Kili stepped out.
“Thank you,” he said. “I do believe you have saved my life.” The elf nodded.
“Now go,” he ordered. “And never return to Mirkwood.” With a nod, Kili skipped, and ran away. He hurried out of the cave, and into the woods. But as he ran, he saw that the orcs of yesterday had stayed in the forest, and where now up to more mischief. They carried torches, and spoke to one another quietly, with a few grunts and squeals here and there. Kili crept along, careful to make as little noise as possible, so to not be seen. Then the orcs stopped, and dropped their torches, and began to run away. Kili glanced their way and saw the fire spreading, lighting tree and leaf ablaze. It spread quickly, in all directions. Soon, it surrounded him, and he looked about. He pushed himself the tree behind which he stood, and began to run, as fast as his short legs would carry him.
“Kili!” A voice behind him shouted. He tripped, and fell, turning around as he did so. Tauriel was hurrying after him, leaping gracefully over fallen branches covered in fire. He stood quickly, not wanting to be brought back to the dungeons again. He backed away from her, but she came nearer, and reached out her hand.
“Don’t come any closer,” he warned, stepping back. The flames around them blazed higher, and Kili glanced cautiously over his shoulder.
“I’m sorry Kili,” Tauriel said. “I only came to give you this:” she took his hand and placed in it the runestone he had given her. He looked up.
“You kept it all this time?” he asked, and she nodded. “Thank you.” Tauriel sighed, and turned back around.
“I’m going to leave now,” she told him, resting her hands on her hips. “I don’t think I shall ever return to Mirkwood.”
“Tauriel?” Kili spoke quietly, and she turned around to face him. He ran to her, and, standing on his toes, kissed her gently, cupping her face in his hands for the last time. “I love you,” he whispered, touching her forehead with his. “Don’t ever forget me.” He moved his hands down to take hers.
Their moment was interrupted by a volley of orcish arrows, which were supposed to be shot at him, but, since the orcs were not very good shots in the fire, struck Tauriel in the stomach. She gasped, falling backwards. Kili, taking his bow, fired back at the orcs, each arrow finding it’s target. Then, dropping his weapon, he knelt beside Tauriel, glancing down to the blood spilling from her wounds.
“Tauriel,” he breathed, taking her hand. She exhaled, looking into his eyes. “No, this must not happen.”
“Even elves die,” she said.
“Yes, but you simply cannot!” he exclaimed. “Is there something I can do? Can you heal yourself somehow if I take the arrows out?” He reached down, and took hold of the black shafts, but Tauriel put her hand over his, making him to stop.
“No,” she said. “This is better, Kili. There’s no one out there for me, I’ve no place to call home. I’ve been wandering about since you died, having no purpose whatsoever.” Tears rimmed Kili’s eyes, and he inhaled sharply as his hands moved back to the arrows.
“Please Tauriel,” he begged. “You can come with me. I’m going to go and try to find Gandalf, going to see if he can help me to--”
“Just leave it, Kili!” Tauriel’s voice rose, and Kili’s hands moved down to her wounds, where they stayed. Her breathing was jagged, and her eyelids fluttered.
“Tauriel,” Kili whispered, glancing down at his blood-covered hands, and back to her. “Oh, Tauriel.” He pulled her into his arms, and brushed her hair out of her face. Already she grew pale.
“Go on,” she said softly. “Go and find the wizard. It’ll be alright.” Kili shook his head, tears running down his cheeks.
“No,” he said, pulling her close to him. Tauriel only nodded, and closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. Kili, now weeping, gently kissed her again, and then let her go. He stood, and hurried away, stumbling past flaming trees and fallen logs. He glanced over his shoulder at Tauriel’s limp body before turning and running away, making his way out of the forest.
When he was finally out, a cold wind met him, brushing thick eddies of snow around. He looked down at his hands, which were stained by his beloved’s blood, and he crossed his arms. He shivered against the cold, and trudged away from the woods, his fingers moving over his runestone. He squinted against the swirling snow, empty plains stretching out before him.
FOUR
Night was soon to come, and Kili was wandering around, clutters of thoughts rattling through his head. Tears streamed down his face, and his legs ached from walking all day, but he kept on going. Wind whipped all around, it’s icy fingers touching him even through his cloak, which flapped out behind him in the wintry gusts. His arms were crossed, and his skin was charred in some places from the smoke and fire. His hand was closed tightly around his runestone.
For weeks on end he trudged along, barely ever stopping, never resting. His destination was Rivendell, and he was determined to get there before the end of the year(it was now December 3rd). He was retracing his steps from the journey to the Mountain, back to where they’d come from.
Finally, he arrived in Rivendell, exhausted. If Gandalf was not here, he would just ask one of the elves to direct him after the wizard. No one seemed to be about when he entered the realm, and so he wandered about, his hands and legs trembling from the endless walking.
“What business does a dwarf have in Rivendell?” A voice behind Kili spoke. He spun around, and saw Lindir standing with his arms crossed, watching. Kili wiped his mouth with his sleeve, stumbling at a loss of balance.
“I’ve come--” he swallowed, sitting down on a bench. “I’m looking for the wizard, Gandalf. Is he here?” Lindir looked over his shoulder, a hidden smile on his face.
“Yes,” he replied. “He is speaking with lord Elrond. What is it to you?” Kili stood again, and made his way up to where the elf stood.
“I have things to discuss with him,” he said. “Important things concerning life and death.” He crossed his arms, and Lindir turned and strode away. Kili sat, waiting, growing all the more tired. His eyes drooped, and gradually closed.
When he woke, he was laying in a bed, beside which the grey wizard sat, his pipe in his mouth and hands in his lap. Kili inhaled deeply, and sat up; Gandalf turned to him.
“Ah,” he said, smoke puffing from his lips. “It’s about time you woke. I was growing rather worried, and feared, maybe, you had died again!” He chuckled, slapping his legs with a huff. Kili rubbed his eyes, looking about.
“Oh,” he muttered sleepily. “But I was just outside.” He turned to Gandalf, who shrugged his shoulders.
“Maybe last week,” he said.
“Last week?” Kili exclaimed. Gandalf nodded.
“Yes, Kili,” he replied. “You’ve been asleep for a while. When is the last time you’ve had any sleep?”
“I don’t know,” Kili said, thinking back. “Maybe when I was in Mirkwood.” His heart burned at the thought of that forest, and the memories in held within.
“You went to Mirkwood?” Gandalf asked, glancing down at his pipe. Kili nodded, shoving the covers off.
“I--” he paused, thinking of Tauriel. His hands trembled, and tears rimmed his eyes.
“Kili?” Gandalf interrupted his thoughts. He turned, blinking the tears away.
“I went to Mirkwood to visit someone,” he said. “But my trip didn’t go as planned. I wanted to take her away with me, Gandalf. I wanted for us to be together forever, but…” His voice trailed off.
“But she would not go along?” Gandalf asked.
“She died.”
Gandalf gasped, and then returned to smoking his pipe. “Lindir said that you wished to speak to me… How did he put it, a matter of life and death?” Kili looked thoughtful, then nodded.
“Right,” he pushed his hair behind his ear, then folded his hands in his lap.
“Does it have anything to do with Tauriel?” Gandalf asked.
“No, it does not. It has to do with my brother and uncle,” he crossed his arms. “Who, for some reason, didn’t come back when I did. Also, I want to know if you had anything to do with my return.” Gandalf squirmed.
“Oh dear,” he muttered, straightening his robe. “Would you like some tea?” He looked up.
“Gandalf, stop playing.” Kili demanded. “You did something, didn’t you?” Gandalf grunted, and smoke leaked from the corners of his mouth. Kili reached for his dagger laying on the bedside table.
“Fine!” the wizard exclaimed. “I spoke to Sauroman, who said that he would help you.”
“Help me?” Kili asked, folding his hands back in his lap. “How do you mean?”
“I think that Thorin is meant to rule Erebor,” Gandalf explained. “Sauroman (after much persuasion) agreed to help me bring one of you back. I decided, since you are the youngest and most physically able in your youth, that you should be the first. But Sauroman would not help me further, and thus, you are on your own.”
“If that is true, how am I to bring the others back?” Kili asked.
“I think,” Gandalf’s lips curved to a smile. “You will meet someone who will have the strength to help you bring them back.”
“Who?” Kili looked up. “Where can I find him?” Gandalf laughed suddenly, loudly. Then he calmed himself.
“You will find her in the village of Bree, that is on the borders of the Shire.”
“Her?”
“Indeed,” Gandalf laughed again. “She doesn’t like me much, so, I shall not go with you to get her. I shall meet you at the mountain.”
“But Gandalf, I can’t go back to Erebor,” Kili objected. “They are all afraid of me.”
“Kili,” Gandalf sighed. “People fear what they cannot understand. If I come, I will try to explain it all to them, and hopefully knock some sense into their thick heads.” Kili chuckled, and Gandalf dismissed himself, muttering about tea and biscuits.
With a sigh, Kili leaned back, closing his eyes. The sunlight seemed to fade as an image appeared in his mind. It was of the maiden he had ever dreamed about since his resurrection. But she had her back to him, and he could never see her face. He opened his eyes, suddenly realising how hungry he was. He leapt from the bed, and, staggering, hurried after Gandalf, trying to shove the dream away.
FIVE
Two days passed, and in that time, Gandalf showed Kili the route to Bree, and where to look for his aid. They stood now in an open pavilion, the both of them looking over a map of the western side of Middle-Earth, speaking quietly amongst themselves.
“I believe the shortest route to Bree would be to go past the Trollshaws, and then from there you can take the East-West road, and that will lead you directly to Bree.” Gandalf explained, running his fingers along the parts of the map of which he spoke. Kili nodded.
“And why is it you won’t come with me?” he asked, looking up at the wizard. Gandalf stroked his beard.
“Because,” he replied. “She and I have a-- let’s just call it a complicated history. She dislikes, and distrusts me. I shall not jeopardise your mission by scaring her away.” He chuckled, and Kili sighed, resting his elbows on the table, staring at the map.
“How long will it take me?” he asked, straightening and folding his arms across his chest. Gandalf shrugged.
“Oh,” he said. “Nigh three weeks, if you are slow and careful.” Kili nodded, and pushed himself from the table.
“I guess it’s a good thing I’m not careful, hey?” he laughed. Gandalf crossed his arms, a disapproving look on his face. Kili cleared his throat. “I suppose that I should get started, then,” he said, turning to leave. “And I suppose you should, too, Gandalf. If you want to reach the Lonely Mountain before me!” With a chuckle, Kili hurried away to dress and gather his things.
Before the hour had passed, Kili set out for Bree, with his bow, quiver of arrows, riding a pony loaned to him by lord Elrond, and a sack of food, from Gandalf, who gave him strict orders(with a chuckle) to eat it‘s contents, and not to starve. So now he rode from the entranceway, headed westward, toward the Last Bridge, hopefully to get there before the three weeks as Gandalf had predicted. He had a long road ahead of him, and evening was almost cast.
He was not but fifty meters from Rivendell when he heard horse hooves sounding behind him. Turning round, he saw an elf riding after him. Kili rolled his eyes, and turned forward again.
“Ah,” said the elf, slowing his horse to match it’s pace with that of Kili’s pony. “The grey wizard sent me as your guardian. He said it was too dangerous for you to ride alone, and lord Elrond agreed. So do not be angered at me, I am only doing as told. If you do not like it, you do not have to say anything to me. I shall be silent, and you won’t even know I’m--”
“Alright!” Kili exclaimed, irritated. “I don’t care you’re here. You don’t have to go on so about it.” He spurred his pony to a lope, and the elf smirked, hurrying his horse after.
Night fell soon after, and the two of them, as odd as it looked, came to a stop and set up camp for the night. They let their horses graze nearby, and Kili made a fire. The elf, who’s name was Rilaeth, stood on a rock, looking at their surroundings. He rested his hands on his hips, and looked down as Kili brought him a bowl of soup, which he had just prepared. This Rilaeth took, and sat, folding his hands around the warm dish. Steam rose from the soup, and clouds gathered above them, veiling the stars.
Kili sat down with his own bowl of soup, and began to eat, tossing cautious glances up at Rilaeth. Thorin had never trusted elves, and so Kili decided, then, to not trust them either. But the one sitting before him seemed honest and not mischievous. Surely if Gandalf had sent him, then he would do Kili no harm.
The morrow came, and the two of them set off once again. Most of the day was silent, with not a word spoken between them, until noon came, and Rilaeth shifted slightly in his saddle.
“So, dwarf,” he began. “Where, exactly, are we going?”
“Gandalf didn’t explain?” Kili turned to face the elf, who shook his head, his eyes darkened.
“The wizard didn’t really have time to say anything, other than ‘Oh! Rilaeth! We must hurry. I need you to go and be a guardian for Kili, he will need protection!’”
“I see.” Kili replied, and then fell silent.
“So?” Rilaeth said, leaning forward.
“So,” Kili tilted his head forward. “We’re going to Bree, to meet someone who will help me with something which I cannot do on my own.” Rilaeth nodded, and they continued on.
“Who are you meeting, then?” he asked. Kili rolled his eyes.
“Someone Gandalf knows,” he replied. “I quite honestly have never met her.”
“And you’re still going to find her?” Rilaeth asked.
“Of course!” Kili snapped. “I have to. She’s my only hope right now. Things are happening that I can’t explain, and I need her help to finish them. If not I’ll have no family and no home.” Rilaeth fell silent, and, lowering his head, remained so.
More clouds gathered above them, threatening a storm. Kili took out his pipe and lit it, glancing back at the elf. For several hours they rode in peace, until the rain began to fall, and thunder rumbled heavily. The sky was dark, though nightfall had not yet come.
The rain soaked Kili and Rilaeth, even through their cloaks and clothes, and wind blew in swift currents. Several times the horses would slip, but quickly regain their balance, and continued on. Kili shivered, crossed his arms, fighting with the memories in his head.
*~*~*
Gandalf stood on the steps of Isengard, his staff in his hand, watching as Sauroman came down toward him. The grey wizard had an uneasy look on his face, having received a call from Sauroman just after Kili had left Rivendell-- only two weeks ago.
“Gandalf,” greeted the white wizard. “You received my call, I presume?”
“Indeed,” Gandalf lowered his head in a respectful way. “What is it that you wanted to speak to me about?”
“Important matters,” Sauroman replied, motioning for Gandalf to follow him inside. Once they were within the dark chambers of his tower, Sauroman turned to his fellow wizard. “You might should’ve told the dwarf the real truth, my friend. You must be a little less selfish, and maybe not have mentioned me in that way.”
“What do you mean?” Gandalf asked.
“I mean, you making me sound like a complete mean person-- heartless like so.” Sauroman turned, and sat down in a chair, crossing his arms. Gandalf leaned on his staff.
“But you did say you would not help with this.”
“My friend, I said that I would not help at all. What you told the dwarf was not true about me in any way.”
“Kili would not have understood if I had told him the actual truth.” Gandalf said, taking a hand to stroke his beard. “It was partial truth, if you think about it carefully.”
“I do not like to think about resurrections carefully. I like to pay no mind to them, and hope they go away.”
“I think it will benefit Kili, too,” Gandalf went on, not seeming to pay any attention to Sauroman’s last remark. “To regain his family, and to start a new one.” He gave a chuckle.
“Do you think that the dwarf will actually fall?” Sauroman asked, leaning his head back.
Gandalf looked to his friend, and replied, “I do not doubt it.”
SIX
Kili dismounted, and lead his pony to the stables. After paying for two stalls, he and Rilaeth left their horses their, and walked to the Prancing Pony, where they set their things at the door and walked in. It had been raining for weeks, so they were soaked, and leaving a trail of water behind them. Kili walked first to the counter.
“I don’t suppose,” Rilaeth began, sitting down at a table. Kili sat across from him. “That the wizard told you who this girl would be? What she would look like?”
“No, he failed to mention that.”
“Oh, how lucky of us.” Rilaeth watched as a waitress set down two cups of ale and a plate of bread in cheese. He nodded his thanks, and she hurried away to go and serve the other customers.
“I suppose there will be something that’ll--” Kili suddenly stopped, looking up. His heart pounded and fluttered and the noise around him began to fade. Standing in a corner of the room stood a maiden, dressed in brown leather trousers, a green long-sleeved shirt, and a short cloak, falling down just to the tips of her brown buckle boots. Her face was shaded over by the hood on her cloak, and she stared away, a cup of ale in her hand. Her light brown hair fell to her shoulders in thick waves.
“Something that will what?” Rilaeth asked, waving his hand in front of Kili’s face. The dwarf mumbled something, then blinked.
“Something…” his voice trailed off, and he rested his chin in his hand. “Huh,” he muttered, furrowing his brow. The elf scoffed, and crossed his arms.
“Very helpful of you,” he said, then turned to follow Kili’s gaze. “Is that her, then?” Kili nodded, and took another gulp of his ale. Rilaeth, shrugging, tossed a handful of coins onto the table. “Are you going to go to your room any time soon?”
“I’m going to stay down here for a while, maybe have a few more drinks. There are several things I have to think about, and I’m not very tired.”
“Well, Gandalf said that you should sleep some, you know. He seemed rather worried for you. But, I’m off. Good-night.” Rilaeth turned and hurried up the steps toward the rooms that they had acquired. Kili muttered a quiet response, then called to the waitress for another cup of ale.
The morning came, though Kili had not slept at all. He stood at his window, staring up at the sky. The dream he’d only had every night since he had come back played over and over in his head. He held a mug of ale in his hands, and couldn’t seem to keep his thoughts together. Everything screamed loudly at him, though it wasn’t seeming to make any sense. He slammed his cup down on the windowsill and rested his hands beside it. His eyes closed for a moment, and thought back on the night. He’d watched her go up to her room, but stayed down there at his table for several more drinks. His head spun, and he fell onto his bed, his palms pressed against his temples. A flash of Bolg standing over him appeared in his mind, and then the pain of the sword flooded from his wound. Sitting up quickly, he tugged his shirt open and looked down at what was barely anything more than a scar. He sighed.
“I’m okay,” he told himself, though his words were slightly slurred from too many cups of ale. “I’m just… drunk.” And he fell back, staring at the ceiling. Still, he tried to make since of his thoughts, but they only jumbled together in a mess.
Then came a knock on the door.
“Kili,” Rilaeth’s voice sounded on the other side. “I’ve spoken to the, um, the girl who was sitting in the corner, and she wants to meet you.”
“What?” Kili demanded, standing quickly. He stumbled to the door, fixing his shirt. He tugged on the handle, and looked out. “She wants to meet me? Really?” Rilaeth nodded, crossing his arms.
“But I suppose you get fully dressed and wash up. You look terrible anyway, but maybe if you brush your hair she won’t completely not want to come.”
“Alright,” Kili shoved the door closed. “Just give me five minutes-- Ooh, my socks!”
“Are you drunk?” Rilaeth shoved the door open to see Kili sitting on his bed, staring at his grey socks. “Never mind.” He closed the door and skipped down the steps.
Kili stood, and, tugging on his tunic, coat, socks, and boots, hurried to the mirror, and set his hands on the table over which it hung. He picked up a brush and stared at it for a moment, then hurriedly brushed his hair, and pulled it back, securing it that way with his silver clasp. He glanced at his reflection, then turned and staggered to the door, which he swung open, and hurried out, down the stairs. Rilaeth stood in the doorway of a room which opened out from the main one. Kili stumbled to the elf, who summoned him in.
“Close the door,” he said, and Kili obeyed, then turned to face him. “Now, promise not to freak out.”
“Okay…” Kili watched as Rilaeth moved to the side. The maiden who had been standing behind him lifted up her face. Kili’s eyes widened, for from her right cheekbone to temple was some sort of a large blue mark. Darker blue streaked from the corner of her eyes, parting and swirling in either direction. But what was most strange was her eye-- just the left one-- was a golden colour. Kili screamed suddenly, but she swung her fist, and he fell back, unconscious.
“You told me he wouldn’t,” she told Rilaeth, who nodded.
“He wouldn’t’ve, save he’s drunk.” He knelt beside the dwarf, gently shaking him. “Wake up, then.” Kili groaned, opening his eyes. He pressed his fist against his forehead, and sat up.
“What happened?” he muttered, looking about.
“You got drunk,” Rilaeth cast a glance at the maiden. “And passed out.” He helped Kili to stand, and the dwarf dusted himself off. He looked up at the maiden, an innocent grin on his face.
“I’m Kili,” he said, extending his hand to her. “Son of Dís. Sorry about that.” She reached out and accepted his hand.
“Delinê,” she replied. “And that’s quite alright. So, is this all of your company?”
“Well--” Rilaeth began.
“Yes,” Kili interrupted. “We are the only two.” The elf cast him an odd glance, but Kili kept his gaze set firmly on Delinê, who wore a quizzical expression. But she nodded anyway, and crossed her arms.
“When do we set out then?”
“Whenever you’re ready,” Kili said, bowing his head only slightly. Every time he looked at her, though, he had a strange feeling. There was something odd about the situation. No one meets someone from their dream in real life, he told himself. But that didn’t matter now. She was there, and she was there to help. Kili, with another bow, exited the room to go and gather his things. Rilaeth and Delinê left, too, each heading to their separate rooms.
SEVEN
The company departed on the morrow, Kili leading, followed by Delinê, and lastly Rilaeth, who kept a careful eye on the two before him. Gandalf had told him to make sure nothing happened, and he intended to do just that. They rode on in mainly silence, until night fell, and they stopped to rest. Kili made a fire, and Rilaeth made some soup. Delinê only watched from a distance, standing with the horses as they grazed. The dwarf watched her as he ate his supper, and Rilaeth glanced between the two, looking thoughtful. He stood gracefully, and moved to Kili’s side, sitting down once again.
“You seem uneasy around her,” he said, flicking his eyes at Delinê, who was secretly watching Kili. The dwarf nodded.
“It’s odd,” he mused, almost to himself. “I’ve seen her, every night in my sleep-- every night since I came back from being dead. There’s something there, something that I can’t put my finger on. It baffles me down to the core, and I grow restless over it. Something in my heart…” He pressed his fist against his chest, still staring over at the maiden.
“Something like fate?” Rilaeth asked, spooning out the last of his soup. Kili nodded.
“I can’t help but feel that way. It’s like I’ve always know her, but we’ve never met. I can only wonder if she’s dreamt of me, too.”
“Maybe you should ask her,” the elf stood, taking his bowl and spoon. Kili shrugged, setting his down.
“What if she hasn’t?” He stood, now, following Rilaeth, who began to wash the dishes. “What if she thinks I’m mad for asking, and she doesn’t want to help any more? Then what would I do?”
“Persuade her that you are not mad,” Rilaeth replied, glancing back at him. “Surely such a simple thing as that would not send her fleeing.” Kili crossed his arms.
“I suppose you are right. But I shall not ask her tonight. I will do it some other time, just not tonight.” He turned to walk away. “I’ll take first watch.”
“Alright, but be sure to watch the horses, too.” Rilaeth said. Kili, chuckling, nodded, and climbed up on a rock, where he sat, taking out his dagger and sharpening it. Soon, Rilaeth retired and went to sleep, but Delinê stayed up, speaking quietly to the horses, every now and then glancing at Kili, who watched her all the while.
After a few moments, she left the horses, and climbed up beside him. She wore her hood over her head, as if self-conscious of the mark on her face. She sat on his left, and stared ahead.
“Yesterday in the inn,” she began. “You were rather quick about telling me that there were only the two of you in your company.” She turned her head to face him, though he did not look back at her.
“That’s because--” he paused, taking a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “That’s because that was not the whole truth. The two of us where the only ones who came from Rivendell. But there was another there, who will meet us at the Mountain.”
“And who is this ‘other?’” she asked, turning away.
“Gandalf, the grey wizard.” Kili replied hesitantly. She turned her head sharply to him, her brow furrowed. Kili cleared his throat, glancing down at his hands. “He didn’t want me to tell you, because of what he called a complicated past.” Delinê suddenly laughed.
“That’s one way of putting it.” she said, wrapping her arms around her knees. “But I can understand why he didn’t want you to tell me. For if you had told me earlier, I would not have come.”
“Why?” Kili looked up from his hands, which fumbled with the hem of his tunic.
“Because I do not like the grey wizard. He is not a friend of mine. But I suppose I cannot turn back now.”
“Why not?”
“Because I cannot find my way back to Bree. Even if it was simply to follow a path, surely I would stray and become lost.” She sighed, and Kili chuckled. She turned to him again. “It is not funny!”
“Right,” he said, ducking his head. “Of course not.” But still he wore a smile. Delinê shook her head in disapproval, looking back at the stars which shone brightly. Finally it was not raining.
“And I surely would turn back, save for that I have agreed to help you, and I am not one to go back on my word. Life has taught me to be that way. But,” she slipped from the rock, gently landing in the grass before it. “I shall go to bed now. Good-night, Kili, son of Dís.” She gave him a smile, and then walked away. Kili sighed, resting his arms on his knees. It was going to be a long night, and he had much to think about.
Several weeks passed by, and the trio had just taken a path through Hithaeglir, but now stood at the borders of Mirkwood, waiting. Kili shifted in his saddle, glancing at the forest, a deep sadness in his eyes. He looked over at Delinê, who turned to him when she felt his gaze.
“Can we not go through here?” he asked. “I know that it will take longer to go around, but this place holds too many memories which I do not want to remember.” He glanced at Rilaeth, who shrugged, not seeming to care where they went, as long as they reached the Lonely Mountain. Delinê shook her head.
“To go around Mirkwood would take too long, but to completely skip through it, that would take no less than a second.” She wore a strange look on her face. Kili looked back at the woods, then to Delinê.
“What can you mean?” he asked, confused. With a smile, she moved her horse closer to his, and reached out her arm. She summoned Rilaeth, too, and he followed her.
“Take my hand, Kili. And Rilaeth, take my other.” The elf did as told, though Kili was slightly hesitant. Her eyes met his, and he reached out, closing his hand over hers. She smiled, and closed her eyes. Around her eyes darkened, and black energy wrapped itself around their wrists, linking them together. In a flash, they disappeared.
Not but a second later, the three of them reappeared on the other side of Mirkwood, facing Esgaroth.
“That can be nothing but dark sorcery,” Kili said, his hands shaking from the teleportation.
“It is dark magic, but I am forced to live with it.” Delinê replied, sighing. “Let’s stop and set up camp.” There were several hours left in the day, but not enough to sail from where they stood to Erebor. Kili turned to her. She looked over at him, and he saw the reason for her request. It seemed that all of her energy was drained, for her eyes were nearly closed, and she looked as though she could fall asleep any moment. He nodded at Rilaeth, who dismounted quickly. Kili slipped from his saddle, and helped Delinê from hers.
Setting her down gently, knelt beside her, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
“Are you alright?” he asked softly, and she nodded.
“I have used up my energy taking us across the forest. Do not worry, though. I shall be fine after a good night’s rest.” She smiled faintly at him, and he returned it. Rilaeth dismissed himself to go and gather firewood, and Kili set the horses to graze.
EIGHT
The full moon was set high in the sky, shining down on the land. The grass swayed gently in the breeze, and Kili opened his eyes. Rilaeth was supposed to be on watch, but had fallen asleep on his post. Kili looked around. Delinê was nowhere to be seen, and he stood quickly. Glancing over at the sleeping elf, he hurried away, his eyes searching for the maiden. He began to grow frightened, but then saw her moonlit silhouette standing down at the water’s edge. The wind whipped softly at the skirt of her gown, and her eyes stared up at the stars. The reflection of the sky shone in the water, and the grass was luminescent from the light. Kili, glancing down at(but paying no mind to) his bare feet, hurried down and stood beside her. She flicked her eyes at him in a soft way, and he reached out, taking her hand. She laced her fingers with his, and the two of them stood there for a moment, saying nothing.
Kili opened his eyes, sitting up and looking about. Just as in his dream, Delinê was not there, so he stood. He walked slowly down to the seashore, where Delinê stood, her hands folded in front of her. She didn’t seem to notice him, only stared at the sky.
“I could not sleep. For some reason I’m not tired.” She took an almost hesitant step forward. “Kili, I want to tell you something.” He looked up, the moon reflecting in his green eyes.
“Yes?” he asked. But something changed in Delinê’s expression. She paused for a moment, then cleared her throat.
“I want to thank you,” she said, clearly having changed her mind. “For being so kind to me. I’ve never really had anyone to treat me so.” She gave a smile, and Kili returned it.
“I know that’s not what you were originally going to say, Delinê,” he said, looking into her eyes. She seemed to have lost her breath when he did, and her cheeks reddened.
“Well,” she stuttered, rubbing her arm. “No, it wasn’t. But I don’t know how or what to say to explain what I would’ve said.” Kili shrugged.
“I’ll listen anyhow you say it.” he replied, his tone softening.
“I think--” she paused, staring into his eyes as if trying to let him read her mind. But he didn’t seem to understand her thoughts. “You might want to be sitting down for this,” she said, and Kili did so, lowering himself to his knees. Delinê followed in his actions, smoothing out her skirts.
“Now,” Kili said. “What is it you want to tell me?” Delinê sighed, looking down at her hands.
“The way you’re acting has led me to believe…” she stopped for a brief moment. “No, I won’t set this on you. The thing is, Kili, no one has really ever been altogether kind to me, and so I’ve never known what to do when someone treats me like that.”
“Hey,” he reached out and took her hand. “It’s okay.” Delinê exhaled softly, her eyelids fluttering for a moment.
“I’ve got to tell you something, Kili, but I don’t want you to think me crazy for saying it.” He looked up.
“I wouldn’t think you crazy,” he said, and she sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I’d dreamt--” she paused again. “Before I met you in Bree, I’d dreamt of you, just standing beside me on a beach.” Kili’s eyes widened, and he took a sharp breath.
“Delinê,” he started.
“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly. “I don’t mean to frighten you. It could just be because of my powers, but I’m not sure. I really don’t--”
“Delinê!” Kili exclaimed, taking her other hand.
“What?” she raised her eyes to meet his. He gave a soft laugh.
“I’m not mad, then,” he seemed to be almost saying it to himself. Delinê looked confused, and he lifted his chin, his eyes held something of excitement and awe. “I have had the same dreams. Every night that I’ve slept. I thought I was going mad because of them. But now I know I’m wrong.” He smiled widely, and Delinê tucked her hair behind her ear again, with a smile and duck of her head.
“Do you--” she looked into his eyes. “Think it could be fate?” Kili shrugged with a soft smile.
“I don’t know.” he replied.
“I think,” Delinê began, glancing down at their hands. “I think I’d like to let it play out.” She glanced up at him, and leaned forward as he did, closing her eyes. Her lips touched his for barely a moment, but he stopped, his forehead against hers. She leaned in, giving him another kiss.
“Delinê,” he touched her face, his eyelids fluttering.
“All I’ve ever known was hate,” she breathed. “But what you’ve done, Kili, the only way I know to respond is to fall in love.” She exhaled softly as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.
“Delinê,” he whispered with a sigh, his thoughts tracing back to Tauriel’s fallen body in the consuming flames. “I don’t think we should do this. I can’t--” He pulled away suddenly, tears rimming his eyes. Delinê looked up at him, a confused expression on her face.
“Kili--” she started, but he stood hurriedly, with a tear trickling down the side of his face.
“I’m sorry.” he exhaled sharply, and turned away, quickly returning to the camp. Delinê pressed her hand over her mouth, and stifled a sob, turning to face the water. Her shoulders shook, and she covered her face with her hands.
In the morning, they found the boat that Kili had used to come across the lake from Erebor to Mirkwood, and all climbed in, for it was not small indeed. Rilaeth helped Delinê to keep her balance as she sat down, and he took an oar, handing Kili the other. They slowly and carefully rowed for several hours, in silent tension. Delinê glanced once at Kili, but he kept his eyes on the rippling water. Rilaeth watched them occasionally, though normally his gaze was pinned to the Mountain.
Soon they reached the shores of the city of Dale(which was, at this hour, bustling with people). As the other two went on up ahead, Kili tied the boat to the dock, and followed after, a saddened expression on his face, and his shoulders slouched. Rilaeth called for him to hurry, as the elf seemed rather excited. Apparently he had never entered the Lonely Mountain, and was eager to do so.
At long last they came upon the doorstep of the Mountain, and the doors where opened by none other than Gandalf. He greeted them all with smiles, welcoming each separately. Of course Delinê did not say anything to him, only ducked her head, and hurried inside. Kili gave Gandalf a nod, and followed Delinê. The wizard caught up with the trio, resting his hand on Kili’s shoulder.
“Perhaps a night’s rest before we do this?” he suggested, and Kili frowned.
“Gandalf--” Kili protested, but paused when the wizard tilted his head slightly. Kili sighed. “Fine.” Gandalf nodded, and called to a near-by dwarf.
“The prince has returned. He and his companions need rooms. Take them and show them where they can rest for the night.” The dwarf nodded.
“This way,” he said, tugging at the three of them. They followed him, and he took them to three rooms, where he left them without another word. Kili tossed himself onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He kicked off his boots, resting his hands on his head.
As suppertime came round, and the dwarves(and Rilaeth and Delinê, too) ate a large meal, Dain wanted to hear all about Kili’s ‘adventure’, as he called it. Kili, though, did not feel much like telling a story, and so Rilaeth spoke instead, drawing in everyone’s attention with his dramatic(and a bit exaggerating) tale.
Soon after his story was over, the dwarves retired, each to their own chambers, and went to sleep.
NINE
“Kili, wake up!” Gandalf’s voice cut through the peace of Kili’s dream, and he opened his eyes. “Today’s the day! Come! Come!” The wizard pulled him from his bed, half-dragging him down to the tombs, where Rilaeth and Delinê were waiting patiently. Delinê’s hair was put up loosely, and she gave him a slight smile. Gandalf closed the doors behind the four of them, and, once he was standing with them, folded his hands in front of him. Kili glanced at Delinê, and tugged open the door of Fili’s tomb. The interior was wide, seeing as it was built for the heir to the throne, and so Gandalf climbed in, helping Kili and Delinê after him. Rilaeth stayed out, though, having no desire to look upon the fallen prince.
Delinê pressed her fingers to her nose, then rested her hands on her hips, looking at Fili.
“This is what you brought me for?” she asked Kili, who nodded, his eyes fixed on his brother. Delinê sighed with a shrug, and resting her hands over Fili’s heart. The darkness that had surged through her veins as they had teleported past Mirkwood now flowed again, lighting and sparking, moving swiftly toward her hands. Soon it reached them, pressing against the tips of her fingers.
Suddenly it burst out, pouring from her fingertips and sinking past Fili’s armour and into his chest. Her eyes closed as the darkness pumped heavier, faster. Kili glanced at Gandalf, who wore a very proud look on his face. Slowly, Delinê’s hands moved up to Fili’s forehead, where she rested two fingers of her left hand, and waved her right in a circling motion.
As the magic finally left her, she crossed her arms, watching intently. Kili looked up to her.
“Was that it?” he asked, not daring to make eye contact. She nodded.
“His wound is taken away.” she said. Kili sighed, watching. Then Fili groaned, his eyes fluttering open. Kili gasped, smiling widely. His brother sat up, looking about.
“Kili!” he exclaimed, pulling his brother into an embrace. Kili laughed, though with tears streaming down his face, and his arms were wrapped tightly around Fili. Delinê smiled, pressing her finger against her lips. Gandalf gave a sudden laugh, and Kili stepped back, still smiling. “Did Thorin survive, too?” Fili asked, looking about.
“He didn’t,” Kili replied, rubbing his arm. “None of us did.”
“Then am I in Heaven?” Fili asked, furrowing his brow. Kili laughed, helping his brother to stand.
“No, Fili,” he said. “Delinê brought you back.” He motioned to Delinê, and Fili turned around, and nodded.
“Then I owe you my thanks, great lady.” Fili bowed his head respectively, and Delinê nodded. “Did she bring you back, too?” He turned back to Kili, who shook his head.
“No, she didn’t,” he replied. “I am not sure how that happened.” He glanced at Gandalf, who raised his chin.
“Oh, and about that, Kili,” he said. “I wasn’t completely truthful. Come.” Then he turned to Delinê. “Oh, you can continue. Fili will stay with you.” She nodded, and Kili helped Fili out of the tomb, following shortly after. Delinê sighed, and climbed out, ducking her head under the doorframe. Gandalf lead Kili down the row of tombs, pretending to be very interested in the names carved into them.
“So,” Kili said. “Spill.” Gandalf grunted, nodding.
“What actually happened(and Sauroman had nothing to do with it) was Bolg had a certain type of…” he paused, thinking. “Experimental poison on his sword. He and Azog had found it a long time ago, and were waiting to use it on someone. But, there was only enough to coat one sword with, and so Bolg took it. The poison preserved you, Kili. For several decades. And he didn’t even know it.” Gandalf laughed. “So, in a way, he didn’t kill you. And you should be happy about it.”
“I would be happier if you had told me this sooner.” Kili replied. “What was this poison?” Gandalf shrugged.
“We didn’t find out. Legolas gave me Bolg’s sword, but their was not enough poison remaining to identify. It shall remain a mystery, until another finds a way to figure it out.” Kili sighed, crossing his arms.
“Kili!” A voice behind them called. Kili spun around, and saw Thorin standing, his hand rested on Fili’s shoulder. A smile spread over Kili’s face, and he ran back to his uncle, throwing his arms around him. Thorin laughed, returning the embrace. He and Kili grabbed Fili, pulling him in, too, and the three of them stood there for a long moment.
Gandalf smiled back at Delinê, who lowered her head, and turned away. Kili, looking up and seeing her walk from the room, gave Fili a quick kiss on his cheek, followed after her, closing the doors quietly behind him.
“Delinê,” he said, catching up to her. He reached out and took her hand. But she pulled away, and walked faster. But Kili still followed. “Delinê!” he exclaimed, but she hurried up to her room. Kili skipped up the steps, and knocked carefully on her door.
“Go away, Kili!” she cried. But he didn’t listen. Instead, he tugged on the handle, and swung the door open quietly. Stepping in, he saw she lay curled up on her bed, and was shaking.
“Are you crying?” he asked, walking closer. But she turned away from him and sniffed, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.
“I told you to go away,” she said.
“Yes, I know.” he replied. “I came to apologise for the night on the beach. I know you’ve been hurt, but so have I. I shouldn’t have engaged, though, and I am truly sorry for that.” He waited for her answer, but she only nodded with a sniff. He sighed. “And also, I want to thank you. I owe you a great deal, and you should know I am willing to give you my share of the gold, if that is your price.”
“I do not ask for money.”
“Then what is it that you want?” he asked. She shook her head, pushing herself into a sitting position.
“I see you with your family-- so happy and content, and…” she sighed. “And I am jealous.” Kili reached out and took her hands.
“What do you mean?” he said.
“Gandalf--” she paused. “Gandalf is my father.” She glanced up at him, but he only nodded.
“I suspected that,” he said.
“Yes, well, he wasn’t the most wonderful father.” she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes began to rim with tears, and she tried to blink them away but to no avail. “I wasn’t born with this power, but Gandalf thought that I should enhance the magic that I was born with. He tried to teach me, but one of the lessons went wrong, and he hurt me, severely.” She took a quivering breath and motioned to the blue mark on her face. “So I ran away, because he was trying so hard to change me, like he couldn’t love me as just his daughter. It was as though I had to be just like him or I wasn’t good enough.” She sighed, resting her chin in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she said suddenly. “I don’t mean to overwhelm you with all of my problems.”
“I do not mind,” Kili said softly, offering a soft smile.
TEN
Night fell over Erebor, veiling it in darkness until dawn.
When the sun’s light first spread over the Mountain, it found itself shining down on Kili, who was pacing about on the balcony, waiting for the morning. At last it was there, and he hurried to Delinê’s door, knocking briefly upon it. But surprisingly, it swung open, and he looked in. Delinê was not there, though, and Kili grew worried. He stepped in, taking a good look around. On the bed was a piece of parchment-- a note. Kili hurried and took up the paper, reading the words thereon:
Kili,
I cannot explain why I am leaving,
Only I can say that it has something to do with Gandalf
And our conversation yesterday
And the night on the seashore.
I hold nothing against you, you should know
Only quite the opposite.
There is no more I can say but farewell.
I love you, and am desperately sorry
Delinê
Kili lowered the note.
“What could she mean?” he muttered, tapping the bedposts. He sighed, looking about, thinking if there was anything he could do. The sky was still dark in some places, but the sun would soon be risen.
Then an idea came to Kili’s mind. He ran back to his room, his hand closed tightly around the letter. He grabbed his coat, sliding it over his shoulders. Also he took his bow, quiver, and sheathed sword, which he hung at his side. Heart pounding violently, Kili snatched his cloak from it’s peg, and, tying it over him.
He scribbled something onto his own piece of paper, and tossed it on his bed, before hurrying out of his room. He ran down to the stables in Dale, and, taking a pony, led it out.
Thorin, though, had taken a walk and was wandering around. When he saw his nephew, he moved to him, crossing his arms.
“Kili,” he said with a tilt of his head. “Where are you going?”
“Can’t stop now,” Kili pulled himself quickly into the saddle, tugging at the reins. “I’ve made a mistake, and now I have to find someone. I’ll be back shortly!” And he rode swiftly away, leaving Thorin standing with a look of confusion on his face. He turned, though, and walked slowly back to the Mountain.
When he entered, the dwarves where beginning to wake, and set out to work. Fili, dressed in royal cloth, walked to Thorin’s side, glancing outside.
“Where’s Kili gone off to, then?” he asked. Thorin shook his head with a sigh.
“I don’t know, Fili,” he said. “But I should like some coffee to start the day with.” He gave his nephew a smile, then sauntered to the kitchen. Fili followed him, quickening his pace to match that of Thorin’s.
“It’s a bit odd, though, don’t you think? That we all just sort of… came back? It doesn’t quite seem to make a whole lot of since to me.”
“Indeed,” Thorin shrugged. “But if fate wants it, fate shall have it.” Fili nodded, watching as his uncle poured a cup of coffee, then the two of them sat down.
“Oh, she could’ve teleported!” Kili cried, exasperated. He had gone down to the seashore, and was now looking over the water, searching for any sign of movement. But none came, so he dismounted quickly, climbing into a boat and untying it from the dock. He pushed off with his foot, taking up an oar, and rowing hurriedly toward-- anywhere. As he passed Laketown, he looked upon it’s ruins, but sailed by it, his gaze moving.
Then he spotted something-- off in the distance, a boat with one figure aboard. Kili sped up in his rowing, hoping against hope that it was Delinê. As he grew nearer, his heart lightened, for it was Delinê, and she sat, seeming to just stare into the water before her. Kili slowed up, and finally came to a stop when his boat bumped into hers. She spun around, and sighed, pushing a strand of loose hair behind her ear.
“I suppose you got my note, then?” she asked, looking about. Kili nodded. “I had meant to be in Mirkwood by now, but, like I said when we first left Bree, I cannot keep to a straight path-- or any path for that matter. I think it’s something to do with the--” She motioned to the mark on her face and shrugged. Kili laughed slightly, and pulled the two boats together.
“And I suppose that’s a good thing,” he said, holding out his hand to her. She glanced at it, then at him, and reached out, placing her hand over his. He gently helped her over into his boat. “How come, though, you were just sitting there and not moving?”
“Oh,” Delinê laughed. “I sort of got mad and caught the oars on fire. Then I grew frightened and dropped them into the water.” She shrugged with a flat smile, and Kili grinned, easing her to sit down.
“Delinê, about what I said--”
“It’s okay,” she sat down. “I’ll go back to Erebor with you. I just wanted to,” she paused, giving him an almost shame filled glance. “See if you’d actually come after me.” Kili laughed.
“I’d follow you to all four corners of Middle-Earth if I had to.” he replied, taking both of her hands.
“What?” she gasped slightly.
“I made a mistake,” he sat down before her, glancing down at their hands. His heart fluttered and skipped around in his chest. He took a deep breath. “I hurt you that night, and I want to apologise. I only wonder if your feelings haven’t changed.” He looked into her eyes, which were filled with wonder and amaze.
“They haven’t.” she said, then covered her mouth with her hand. “That came out too fast, I think.” Kili’s eyes never strayed from hers, and he took her left hand in both of his.
“Well, then,” he slipped the ring from his finger, and moved it to hers, his gaze held. “Delinê, I want you for worse or for better, and I’ll wait forever for an answer, but, would you consider-- I know I hurt you, but please consider-- staying by my side for all of eternity?” He looked down at the ring on her finger.
“Kili?” Delinê’s voice cracked, and she swallowed hard.
“Delinê, I love you.” He looked into her eyes again, his own sparkling. Delinê’s eyes widened, and shimmered beneath rising tears of joy.
“I love you,” was the only thing she could choke out, her words caught in her throat. He smiled softly, and brushed her hair from over her golden eye. His heart raced in his chest, just as it had the first night he had seen her at the Prancing Pony. He leaned forward, and, tucking the lock behind her ear, gently pressed his lips against her, closing his eyes. Then he reached back around her, sliding his fingers into her hair. Delinê closed her eyes as the kiss grew more passionate. She reached up with shaking hands and touched his face.
And the boat swayed.
ELEVEN
“Gandalf,” Kili swung the door open, followed by Delinê, who, with her hand pressed against her mouth, was beaming. Gandalf turned round, breathing out another puff of smoke.
“Yes?” he asked, popping his pipe back in his mouth. “Ah, Kili. How is Thorin, and your brother, and all of Erebor?”
“Thorin’s well,” Kili replied, watching as Delinê stepped from the room, tossing him a smile before she closed the door. “As is Fili, and all, though Dain was not altogether pleased to give up the throne. But that is not what I have come to talk to you about.”
“I see.” Gandalf puffed out a cloud of smoke.
“It’s a complicated matter. One that deserves your full attention, which is what I demand of you.”
“Demand?” Gandalf raised his brow. Kili nodded.
“It is about your daughter, Delinê.”
“Oh, you know?”
“Yes, she told me. Now, I have a question, concerning the future-- both hers and mine.”
“I see where this is going.” Gandalf raised his chin, running his hand over his beard. Kili shoved his hand in his pocket.
“See, first, only a few days ago, Delinê and I had this sort moment-- if you follow me. But, at the time, I had just lost Tauriel, and made the mistake of hurting Delinê. I hadn't meant to, but she needed someone to love and I was emotionally… out of sorts. But anyway, this morning, Delinê left Erebor. I went after her, though, and-- Gandalf, I wish for your blessing, seeing as she is your daughter.” Gandalf chewed on the stem of his pipe, his eyes holding firm to Kili’s gaze.
“Delinê!” he called suddenly. The door opened, and Delinê stepped cautiously through, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Come to me, child.” Gandalf extended his arm to her, and she accepted, stepping close to him. He looked in her eyes.
“Gandalf--” she began.
“Is this what you want?” he interrupted. Delinê turned her eyes to Kili.
“Oh, I’ve been so stupid, Gandalf. Since I was younger, I’d never really understood true love, since my family didn’t seem to love me. I thought the world was only filled with hateful people, and so I became a hateful person. But when Kili came after me, I realised how blind I’d been! This is what I want, Gandalf. I’d never be happier with anyone else.” She smiled, taking the wizard’s hand. Gandalf sighed.
“Very well, then.” he said, then turned to Kili. “You’d better not harm her, dwarf, for she’s been treated too roughly all her life.”
“Of course.” Kili held out his hand to Delinê and she took it, moving to stand beside him now. Gandalf nodded, his beard wagging, and smiled.
“You have my blessing, then, for I know that was what you’ve come to ask for, Kili.” he laughed softly. “I shall away after the wedding, for I have things to do… many things to do, yes.” He sucked on his pipe.
“Thank you,” Kili said, lowering his head. “Very much, Gandalf.” The wizard nodded again, and Kili and Delinê hurried from the room, eager to tell the others.
The wedding came, passed, and all were merry. Kili stayed true to his promise to Gandalf, keeping Delinê safe at all costs. She was welcomed into the royal family, and the wedding feast lasted several days. Dís came, and stayed in Erebor with her brother, and sons, Dain returned to the Iron hills after the ceremony, and Gandalf set off, though where he was going, he told no one. Kili and Delinê began a family, having eleven children in all, thus filling the Mountain halls with laughter.
And they lived happily ever after, to the end of their days.
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