Kíli kept his eyes on the stars he could barely see above the thick foliage, and hunting them down was his trick that kept him awake while on shift. He couldn't talk with Fíli: everyone would wake up. They were sleeping so restlessly these days.
His daily confident swagger got past no one, he knew. Not even their burglar was fooled by his offhand demeanor of the forest. Mirkwood. Just the name filled him with dread, he reflected as he decided to sharpen his dagger to the firelight, as another way to keep his eyes open. Fíli just looked on approvingly as he found a stone near their campfire to sharpen his dwarven dagger, which he pulled from the arsenal of weapons beside him.
It was then that he noticed the little restless body closest to the flames; Ori shuffled in his sleep uncomfortably. But as Kíli stared closely he could see his eyes open anxiously. Kíli looked at his brother, as he always did when he took any decision, regardless its importance. Fíli nodded encouragingly, and they both leaned towards the younger dwarf.
"Ori, you should be sleeping," started Fíli, and Kíli rolled his eyes. Was that the best beginning he could say?
"I can't. There's no difference between night and day here," he confessed, his nasal voice somber and grim.
Kíli sighed. "Yes, but it's about your strength. You know how our uncle demands us to travel through Mirkwood the fastest we can."
"I don't find comfort in dreams," he admitted. "There's no rest in slumber now."
At this point he looked up to the sky hopelessly. "You know how Bilbo described the sky and the valley and Mirkwood from above the trees?"
"Oh, for goodness' sake don't torture us with that," interjected Fíli, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "We all need sunlight back! To think there would ever be a day a dwarf would not like the dark," he added; the bitterness he had acquired through the days in the dark forest mingled in words.
"I also..." then he looked down, uneager to follow.
"Yes, go on," prompted Kíli cheerfully to Ori.
Ori took a deep breath, and then exhaled with such intensity the brothers looked at each other in surprise. What could Ori think that made him so nervous to speak?
Finally Ori looked to his left; to the direction of the stream; and began.
"Have you ever heard of premonitions happening, you know, not among Elves or Men?" he stammered, now visibly cringing at his words in embarrassment.
Fíli and Kíli looked at each other again: Fíli's narrowed in suspicion (as should have been sensible among them) and Kíli's wide in amazement.
"Premonitions, Ori? You surely don't mean-?"
"I mean every word," he answered. His voice rang with anger at their disbelief. Fíli's initially distrustful glances changed to puzzled ones.
"Why-why are you telling us? Why not Dori or Nori?" asked Kíli, concerned over this. Premonitions? It was utterly ridiculous.
"They concerned you!" he whispered fearfully.
"W-w-what were they about?" began Fíli.
Ori looked cornered, and Kíli did his best to encourage him to speak.
"First, the company was in a much lighter part of this wood. But we were weak and frail and we were cornered by elves in a blink of an eye. Bilbo wasn't with us. It was then when we were imprisoned by a pale elf king. Our jailer was an elf maiden with a face that anyone might die for, but mercilessly drove us to cells. And then Kíli began to speak with her. I couldn't listen," he confessed.
"What?" More baffled he could not be. Kíli looked incredibly silly.
Ori said nothing. «He praised her red hair, her alluring eyes, her ferocity in combat, as she had been among her kinsmen that had captured us. She ignored his every word, the heartless viper» he would later scribble down on his journal.
"And then..." and Ori's expression turned from grave to fearful.
"Yes?" prompted Kíli, still curious and inconsiderate of Ori's fright. Fíli immediately prodded his brother's shin sharply, giving him a warning look.
Ori sighed. "There was a battle. A horrible war. I was among our archers, but I could see everything perfectly. Thorin lay wounded on the ground, you madly defended him as best as he could," he gasped, turning to Fíli. "Kíli was rushing to save you both, and I heard lines of Elvish I couldn't understand. It was then when everything stopped for a moment and our burglar, who stood at the top of the Lonely Mountain, had the Arkenstone at its feet, and his dagger in his hands. He closed his eyes and..."
Fíli and Kíli looked at him utterly taken aback.
"You don't mean he broke-!" exclaimed Kíli. His alarm was so evident one could easily tell he believed Ori.
Fíli, as dumbfounded as he was, proceeded to talk logically. "Are you sure it was the Arkenstone?" he asked.
Ori nodded vigorously. "It looked just like Thorin described it. It was absolute perfection, shining like a star itself."
Kíli finally closed his mouth, and then continued speaking. "And then what happened?" They had forgotten the words of their uncle's plight after being told of the Arkenstone's faith.
"I wanted to look closer at the battle, but when Bilbo broke the Arkenstone it shined so potently I could only see him put on a ring that rendered him a shadow before my sight was consumed by the light of the Arkenstone," ended Ori grimly. "And then I felt like I was struck from behind, and felt sick until I woke up."
Fíli remained silent for a minute, taking it all in. "Are you sure this wasn't just a dream?"
"I never dream like that! Recently, it's all been about..." and his voice trailed off in embarrassment.
Fíli knew what this was about. "You still dream of the wargs. So do I, occasionally," confessed Fíli, his words friendly.
"We all do," agreed Kíli sadly with his brother. Ori had a lot to relieve in nightmares, they easily agreed later. With him about to fall off the tree.
"Should we tell Thorin?" asked Ori timidly. Once again the brothers looked for each other's approval.
"I-I don't know," stammered Fíli.
"He might find the information about a war useful, and about the elves taking us prisoner. But about the Arkenstone...I think he might harm Bilbo," said Kíli absentmindedly, his thoughts now busied upon the bewitching elf maid, and smiled faintly.
"He will not," said a deep, resonating voice behind them, and Ori cringed as the figure behind them came more clearly into view-Thorin.
He did not look angry, only stern as usual and somewhat disappointed. He kneeled before the fire beside Ori, and looked at him compassionately. Ori's eyes widened.
"Have you had any of these before?" asked Thorin softly to Ori, who shook his head.
Thorin looked conflicted, and took a stick on the ground and started poking at the fire. Normally, Thorin himself would have snapped at whoever dared touch the fire, which had the tendency to go out in Mirkwood. "I wouldn't pay any attention to these dreams, Ori. Troubling, yes; but prophetic…? Can you describe the elven king, Ori?"
"He…he wore a crown of silver and leaves, he was tall, haughty, of equally silver hair."
Thorin's expression darkened visibly at this sentence. "You have described Thranduil perfectly," he said quietly, in contrast to his perturbed look. Fíli and Kíli both eyed Ori nervously.
"Do you know any elf damsels of red hair?" asked Ori after a pause.
Thorin shook his head, but he soured even more at the word elf. "The imprisonment could be simply a dream about Rivendell turned nightmare," he deduced in a cold tone, "and as for the battle…I wouldn't pay attention to these dreams, Ori."
With this advice, the dwarf stood majestically and, after a hopeful glance upward for a bit of the sky, turned to his nephews. "I believe your watch has ended. Whose turn is it?"
"Bofur's and…Bifur's," said Fíli promptly. Kíli now looked hesitant to sleep, but Fíli gave him a reproaching glare, telling him to stop thinking about Ori's words.
Thorin made irritated grunt. "Bombur. That clumsy—"
"It wasn't his fault," groaned Bofur a few feet from them, as Fíli shook him. "His size wasn't exactly helpful for crossing the stream," he groaned. "Who wakes Bifur?"
The sibling looked at each other. "You do?"
"Oh, he won't attack you," complained Bofur, but still groggy.
It was a few minutes until everyone took their place at the campfire, and when Kíli sat beside Fíli, he looked around furtively. Making sure Ori, was asleep, Kíli whispered to his brother, "Do you really believe what he said?"
Fíli grimaced, unsure of what to say. He did; every word, but what was he to say?
"No. Not in the least," he assured him.