AN: This was written for milliegirl20 on tumblr, who requested a ghost story back around Halloween. It got...way longer than intended :P. I probably should have posted this in more than one part, but eh, screw it.
Pairing: Fili/Kili
Light of the Moon
Fíli set down the box in his arms with a heavy sigh, resting his arms on his thighs for a moment as he caught his breath. It was hard work moving, and after hours of carting boxes to and fro he was ready to lie down, put up his feet, and guzzle down an ice cold drink.
"I really don't get what you see in this place," Ori muttered, dropping another box to the ground beside him, and Fíli turned with a grin and stood, running his fingers through sweaty hair. It was tied up in a loose bun, but several strands had escaped as the day wore on.
"It's not so bad, just needs a bit of tidying," Fíli said as he took in the admittedly dusty surroundings of his newly purchased home. It hadn't been what he was looking for at all, but the moment he set foot inside the old Victorian house, located in a woodsy area just outside of the city, his decision was made. Fíli could imagine the way it would look once everything was redone, the walls stripped of the yellowing wallpaper and painted in vibrant hues instead to add a more modern touch. The bannisters on the spiral staircase might need replacing, and some of the floorboards had loosened and warped over time, but everything was fixable. Besides, the price had been right, surprisingly cheap in fact, which left him a fair hunk of cash to use for any modifications he might make. On top of that the rooms still possessed tons of old furniture, hidden beneath white sheets, and he was sure that the things he didn't want, would sell for a decent price.
The blond shut the front door and strolled throughout the main floor, stopping to pull a few drapes from the picture frames still mounted on the wall. Dust flew out around him, mingling with the already thick air, and Fíli sneezed a few times as he inadvertently inhaled some of the particles. Ori was at his side in a heartbeat, whisking away as much of it as he could, muttering about locating the vacuum in the mass of boxes left in the foyer. Fíli caught his breath, rubbing at his nose as he studied an uncovered painting on the wall, featuring the portrait of a beautiful woman. She was unnaturally pale, with long dark hair that amplified the stark colour of her skin. Perhaps the tones had faded over time, but there was something decidedly eerie about the painting. It was in the eyes, the way they gazed at the viewer in a mysterious lifeless way. They were sad, lost almost, like the person was searching for something they missed dearly.
"It's creepy, Fíli," Ori muttered, gazing over his shoulder at the image, though his expression betrayed his mirth. His eyes were wide with intrigue, and he clenched the discarded drape between his fingers excitedly. It was no secret that Ori loved anything and everything supernatural or unexplainable to the human eye.
"I bet you this place is haunted," Ori whispered, grinning brilliantly as he hurried to uncover more of the paintings. Fíli inwardly groaned. The last thing he wanted was to be surrounded by pictures of a long dead family. They certainly weren't going to be staying on the walls for long if he could help it.
"It feels like it's haunted," Ori emphasised, and he crept along beside Fíli, listening to the floorboards creaking beneath his feet. Fíli sighed and rolled his eyes.
"You know I don't believe in that crap," Fíli snorted, and he leaned back against a nearby cabinet. It shifted beneath his weight, sliding into the wall with a bang and Fíli flew off it in surprise. He turned around and glared at the thing as his heart pounded at the unexpected movement while Ori laughed loudly at his side.
"You not believing doesn't stop them from existing," Ori said with a snicker, and Fíli glared at him, rubbing the dust from his clothes.
The two men spent the rest of the afternoon exploring, looking into the nooks and crannies that even Fíli had not discovered before he purchased the home. The hallways were lined with ornate tables and cabinets, and many of them still housed china and silverware from an era long gone. Ori collected a pile of sheets, making sure to remove them from as much as he could as they walked by. They took in the rest of the revealed paintings curiously, wondering who the people in them were and what their lives might have been like.
"Looks like some are missing, there are nails with nothing on them," Fíli mentioned, running his fingers across the wall. He grimaced as they were coated with dust and pulled them away, leaving trails against the wallpaper where the grime had been moved around.
"Thieves maybe? There's so much history in this home," Ori mentioned as he fiddled with an unrecognizable knickknack. It was strewn with cobwebs, but Fíli had a feeling removing them all would do little to help them understand its use.
"It's incredible that it's all so intact." Ori said, and they both began making their way down the winding stairs. There were boxes to unpack, and they definitely needed to find the vacuum before they did much else.
"The realtor mentioned that it's been owned by several different people, but no one's actually lived here since nineteen-fifteen or something like that," Fíli spoke, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. He sauntered towards the foyer, toeing the floorboards as they walked to see how many might need replacing.
"Wow…I wonder why?" Ori whispered, and there was a note of scepticism in his voice that Fíli chose to ignore. Fíli could understand why no one wanted to live in the place. It was a big investment of both time and work. As they passed through an archway on the lower level both men shivered, and Fíli eyed the hallway oddly as he pulled his hoody tighter around his chest.
"Doesn't it feel a bit drafty to you?" he asked, and both of them walked into the foyer hesitantly. Fíli's eyes were immediately drawn towards the wide open door at the front entrance. Cool air blew through it, and the door creaked and groaned on its hinges as it swayed strangely back and forth. Fíli narrowed his eyes and swallowed, looking around briefly as though he expected someone else to be inside the house, but there was no one there.
"Oh…guess we left the door open," Ori said, moving quickly to shut it, and then he rubbed his hands together and began opening boxes and sorting them on the floor.
"I'm sure I closed it…," Fíli trailed off, still studying the door frame with interest, but eventually he shrugged it off and got back to work.
June 21st, 1896
Dear Diary,
I'm so glad to finally have a new journal to write in as I cannot contain my excitement! It's been the perfect birthday! I could not have asked for anything more. Vílidan is certainly a gentleman, though I knew that from the moment we first met. He took me out for a stroll today. The weather was gorgeous, the sun so bright in the sky. We had a picnic in the woods, with cheese and wine. Vílidan held my hand and said such sweet words to me, and then he proposed! I cannot believe it! The ring is so beautiful, and I am still shocked when I see it on my finger. He even scratched our initials inside of a heart on the bark of a tree, just like a child with a crush. I love him so much, and I'm so excited to begin our new life together!
I've never been happier!
Sincerely,
Discordia
Fíli stretched out his back after taking a moment to rest. Ori had offered to stay and help him set up his air mattress, but it was getting dark out, and the drive back into the central part of town wasn't exactly short. So he was sprawled over the floor in the foyer putting his lungs to work, blowing into the tiny valve on the makeshift bed to the best of his ability. It took what seemed like hours, but eventually the mattress was inflated enough that his butt wouldn't graze the floor while he slept. Add a pillow or two and a blanket and it was good enough for him.
Fíli was used to sleeping on futons and couches, so surely an air mattress wouldn't be so bad. He would have even slept on the floor, except their vacuuming excursion had revealed a rather mysterious large stain that he didn't fancy getting up close and personal with. Fíli shifted around on top of the mattress, listening to the squeaky sounds beneath him as he found a comfortable position. He tugged the blanket up over his shoulders and closed his eyes, settling in for the night, but to no avail.
There were constant creaks and squeaks, a repetitive tap tapping against the windows, along with other sounds, that Fíli just couldn't place. He shifted, rolling onto his back, and opened his eyes wide as he stared at the tall ceiling above. A chandelier hung not directly above him, but within his line of sight, and the little crystals picked up the moonlight through the large uncovered windows along the front of the house. It left a strange ever-moving pattern of shadows circling above him, and Fíli's gaze followed it wearily.
The sounds persisted, and Fíli found his eyes drifting warily to the side, towards the hallway where there was a staircase leading to the upper floor. It sounded like someone was on the steps, but he knew it was just the house settling. A gust of wind shook the windows, the tree leaves rustling loudly, and then there was a high pitched screech that could only have been caused by metal rubbing against metal. He swallowed, and remembered the old chain swings that were just outside in the yard. They'd been put there by a family that planned to move in, and left when their plans were abandoned.
Fíli sighed, rolling on his shoulder and grimacing as his sweaty skin stuck against the plastic material beneath him. He tried squeezing his eyes shut and counting sheep, but eventually groaned loudly and rolled off the bed, crawling to the nearest wall. He fumbled blindly against the panelling until his fingers grazed the light switch, and a moment later the entire foyer was lit up by the overhanging light. He glanced behind him, at the bed and windows, and then leaned out into the hallway to look up the stairs. There was nothing there. Nothing at all. He crossed his arms, walking throughout the main floor, turning on each light as he went. Still nothing. And when he reached the kitchen Fíli peered out into the yard, taking in the empty swings as they swayed to and fro.
As he thought, there was no one outside, there was no one in the house, and the sounds were simply that, just sounds. He was working himself up over nothing. It was probably Ori's fault, putting strange ideas in his head. Fíli took one last walk around the lower level, grabbing a quick drink of water and pausing to check the lock on the front door. He hovered by the light switch, scratching at his bearded chin, but shrugged and scrunched up his nose before padding back to the air mattress and falling atop it. Fíli sprawled across it, his legs hanging off the edges inelegantly, and he glared up at the bright light above him. He decided to leave it on, not because he was scared of course, but because he didn't feel like getting up again. The light would help. It would stop the shadows from freaking him out at the very least. He just needed time to adjust to his new home. Sleeping in a new place was always difficult. He nodded slightly, reassuring himself, and then closed his eyes as he struggled to mentally block out the distractions around him. It was going to be a long night, but he needed rest if he meant to get any work done the following day.
December 23rd, 1896
Dear Diary,
It is a wonderful day! I am to have a child! I was not sure at first, but there have been signs, and now I'm almost certain! You are the first I've told. I cannot wait to let Vílidan know. He will be so happy. I know he wants children, a large family. I'm planning an extravagant meal tonight. I'll cook all his favourites, and then I'll tell him the news. I can imagine how he'll react, I'm blushing at the very thought.
Wish me luck!
Discordia
Fíli wiped his brow and stood up from the bath, hot water dripping from his reddened skin. He stepped from the steaming liquid, drying off his wrinkled body slowly. Most of his day had been spent checking the piping and setting up the running water. Thankfully everything seemed to be working, and he'd only had to repair a few of the aging pipes. Even the water heater was up and running and Fíli hadn't been able to resist putting it to work. His muscles ached, and though the bath helped ease the tension in his shoulders, he still felt the dull pain in his neck and lower back. He hadn't had Ori's help this time, and definitely noticed the absence of a second set of hands. Not to mention he was already tired from his insomnia.
Fíli staggered through the hallway towards the stairs, placing his hand on the wall for support. He must have spent more time than he thought in the bathtub, as the sun had completely set and there was not a hint of light coming through the windows. He hobbled down the stairs and walked around the lower level, the old beach towel hanging low about his hips. The blond reached the kitchen gratefully, pouring himself a tall glass of orange juice that he downed in a matter of seconds. He sighed in relief and started pouring another one just as a loud crash sounded outside, startling him enough that his arm jolted and juice drenched his hand.
"Crap!" Fíli shouted, shaking his fingers off after setting down the glass. He rubbed them on the towel mindlessly, leaning to look outside, and frowned as he caught sight of a pair of glowing eyes gazing up at him. The small furry body scampered away, leaving its mess behind.
"It's just a cat, geez," Fíli muttered, taking a deep breath as he tried to steady his accelerated heart rate. He leaned on the countertop heavily and shook his head in disbelief, lifting the half-filled glass to his lips. Fíli took another gulp and turned, glancing into the kitchen before freezing, his eyes wide as liquid rolled down the back of his throat. The hair on his arms rose as he stared at the palest face he'd ever laid eyes on, and he stopped breathing as a ghostly form shifted and faded in and out in front of him. Fíli reacted on impulse, throwing the glass across the room as he practically fell to the side in his rush to turn on the lights. He choked on a scream, orange juice blocking his airway, and flung his body against the wall as he stared back at the now lit room. Fíli's hand grazed across the countertop until he grasped an object, holding it up in front of his body in defense. The wooden spoon did little to comfort him as he coughed the liquid from his lungs, but he clung to it regardless.
"Shit! Fuck! Shit!" Fíli shouted after managing to steady his breathing. There was nothing there. He slapped the light switch off and on again, as quick as can be, and didn't catch any sight of someone else in the room with him. Then he did it once more just to be sure.
"It wasn't real, seeing things," Fíli gasped, and he slid down towards the floor, heart pounding in his chest. He ran an unsteady hand through his hair, his fingernails catching on the matted bits of his bun.
"Oh shit," Fíli whispered, as he took in the mess of glass and juice across the kitchen floor. He'd definitely seen something. There's no way he would have reacted in such a way for nothing. His head flew back against the wall and he barely winced at the pain running down the back of his skull. Any comfort the hot bath provided had all but disappeared.
August 15th, 1897
Dear Diary,
I am exhausted. I must look a mess, I can barely bring myself to write this, but I just had to. My darling boy is here! It was a difficult birth. I'm told it took nearly a full day, but I cannot remember much of it. It does not matter anyway, I am happy with this little bundle in my arms.
I've named him Kílian, but Vílidan means to call him Kíli. I think I may end up doing so as well. The sound of it brings a smile to my face.
He is so beautiful. He has my eyes, but Vílidan's vibrant spirit, and his smile too! There are not tufts of hair, and I cannot wait to see what colour it will be. He likes the sound of music, and Vílidan has already played many songs on the violin and piano for him.
My husband claims he'll be an artist. I truly hope he is right! I must rest for now, but I will write again soon.
Sincerely,
Discordia
The hammer lowered against the nail at a steady pace, and Fíli watched the small piece of metal disappear into the wood beneath his knees with a blank stare. He'd spent hours, crouching in the stairwell as he replaced the steps with new panels. He hadn't slept, working through the nights in an attempt to keep his mind off of other things. Strange things. He was edgy, and tenser than ever, creeping around the corners in his own house like he didn't belong. It was a miracle he still had all of his fingers. Things were starting to get a bit hazy, and there was a terrible headache throbbing behind his eyes. Fíli figured it might be a good idea to rest, but whenever he stopped working, he started thinking, started wondering what sort of creatures lurked in the shadows.
It was a welcome surprise when Ori showed up one morning, takeout in hand.
"You look exhausted," the smaller man commented, his eyes taking in Fíli from head to toe. They sat across from one another on opposite ends of the air mattress, shoving food into their mouths.
"I haven't slept much…," Fíli mumbled around his meal. He set down his takeout container and rubbed at his face wearily.
"Not used to it yet?" Ori asked, pausing for a moment in concern. Fíli glanced towards his friend, wondering exactly what he should say. Ori might understand, he believed in….weird stuff, but how far did something like that go? Wasn't there a point at which ghost enthusiasts thought their friend was simply going crazy?
"Yeah, that's it," Fíli said, and he crossed his arm over his chest and scratched at his shoulder. It was probably safer to not mention his encounter just yet. After all, it might have just been in his head. And the last thing Fíli wanted was for his best friend to think he was barking mad.
"And you know…the air mattress kinda sucks," Fíli grinned playfully, happy when the other man relaxed slightly at the admission. The two chatted as they finished up their meal and then Ori followed Fíli towards the stairway.
"Thanks for coming to help, I'll pay you back for it someday," Fíli said with a wink, and Ori chuckled and smiled in return. The two of them were always saying that, but in reality they just showed up when the other was in need. Ori looked up the stairway in awe before lifting a foot and testing out the first step.
"Wow this looks so much better already!" he exclaimed, and then he skipped up the rest of the stairs and took in the newly repaired floor in the hallway above.
"I can't believe you did so much in just a couple days," Ori commented, leaning against the bannister as he stared down the spiral towards his friend.
"And nights. Days and nights," Fíli muttered, a hand rubbing at the back of his head. Ori raised an eyebrow at the comment and Fíli sighed and moved to pick up a hammer before getting back to work. He spent the day directing Ori, asking for certain tools and getting his help lifting up several floorboards in the foyer. The afternoon flew by, and Fíli was yawning near constantly once the sun set in the sky. He was leaning to pick up his toolbox when a loud crash sounded from upstairs, and he froze and looked towards his friend hurriedly.
"Did you hear that?" Ori asked. He was peering up the staircase, his mouth hanging open as he searched for the source of the sound, and when he hurried upstairs to explore Fíli charged after him, hammer still in hand. To his relief, the upper level was clear, and Ori hovered near a fallen painting, trying to scrape some of the shattered bits of wood into a pile with his shoe.
"Looks like the nail broke, it's all rusted out," Ori said, pointing to the cracked remains still protruding from the wall, and Fíli approached cautiously, his gaze shifting to take in the rest of the hallway with suspicious eyes. He swallowed nervously as he looked towards the portrait, taking in the stern expression of the man depicted. He had blond hair, and silver eyes, his lips pulled down slightly at the sides. Fíli frowned curiously. He hadn't taken the time to really study the paintings on the wall, not like Ori had, but it seemed like the people portrayed weren't terribly happy, if the two he'd already seen at were anything to go by.
Ori propped the painting against the wall while Fíli gathered a broom and scooped the wooden fragments into a garbage can. And then the other man was glancing into the many rooms along the walls.
"You left all the lights on Fíli. What a waste! Such a child," Ori laughed, sticking his tongue out at the blond as he flicked off the switches, and Fíli grimaced uncomfortably when the upper level darkened. Already his heart rate was speeding up, just at the idea of encountering something in the dark, but at least he had a friend with him this time.
"It's late, wanna order pizza and camp out?" Fíli suggested, hoping the other man would stay so he could actually attempt to get some rest. His eyelids felt heavy, and he was getting to the point where he might do something stupid and get seriously hurt.
"Sure!" Ori said, and Fíli suddenly realized he had been holding his breath. He breathed in deep, closing his eyes in relief as he followed his friend back downstairs.
October 23rd, 1905
Dear Diary,
I find it difficult to write lately, even just here in this very journal. I'm tired, drawn. Much of my time is spent with Kíli, but he is in school now, and I find there are hours during the day where I grow bored without his laughter echoing throughout the house.
Things might have been different had I birthed another child, but my body does not seem willing. After the last miscarriage, the doctors say it is just not meant to be. I suppose I must be grateful that I was able to have Kíli. I cannot imagine life without him. But I also cannot help but feel saddened.
Vílidan is often busy with his work. He's getting harsh and dare I say cold-hearted with age. I still love him dearly, and I know he loves me, and our family, but I fear the stress is wearing on him. I cannot help but think I've let him down as well. Hopefully there are better times ahead. For now I'll focus on making sure my family is happy and cared for when at home. It is all I can do.
Discordia
Fíli groaned under his breath as he rolled on his back, the familiar annoying pain in his abdomen making him open his eyes in disdain. He had to pee. And he really didn't want to get up. It was pitch black as he blinked around the room and he stared at the ceiling in annoyance. If he didn't go he wouldn't be able to sleep, and if he did…well that meant getting up. Fíli yawned and threw the blanket away from his body, rolling off of the air mattress to unsteady feet. He stumbled around the foyer, tripping over Ori's extended legs with a curse. The blond mumbled an apology when he heard his friend grunt, and then continued into the hall and up the stairs, his hand dragging along the wall for support.
Fíli swayed back and forth as he stood in front of the toilet, still half asleep. His toes were suddenly cold, and he missed the cover of his blankets. He made quick work of his business, turning to wash his hands hurriedly. His eyes raised on impulse, looking into the mirror as he turned on the tap and then blinked as they stared at the face reflected back at him.
It wasn't his.
It took a few seconds for his brain to catch up, but when it did his heart stopped and he screamed at the top of his lungs, flying back from the sink in a hurry. His legs knocked into the bathtub and he fell into the shower curtain, grabbing hold of the plastic material as he toppled over the edge of the basin. Everything was a blur as he fell, and he shrieked again, catching one last sight of the ghostly pale face in the mirror. It looked anguished, its eyes wide and terrifying, and Fíli felt his lungs constrict as the shower rod collapsed under his weight, the curtain entangling with his body and covering his face. He kicked and flailed against the plastic material, unable to get up from the tub, and then the light flicked on and it was pulled from his body in a flash.
Ori stared down at him looking panicked and scared to death and Fíli screamed again as the other man's fingers grasped his shoulders and held him in place.
"Fíli! It's me! Calm down!" Ori shouted, tugging Fíli from the bathtub with all his might. They collapsed on the tiled ground, Fíli a shaking mess as his friend eyed him worriedly. The blond searched his surroundings frantically to no avail, until he relaxed enough to focus on his friend.
"What happened? You screamed!" Ori hissed, kneeling at his side, his hair standing up in all directions. He still looked half asleep.
"Th-there was a…in the m-mirror," Fíli stuttered as he pointed up at the reflective surface.
"I thought…I thought it wasn't real but it's real I saw it and it was the same as last time and oh god-," he rambled on, lowering his face into his hands as he dug his nails into his skin.
"Fíli, what…?" Ori's face morphed into one of absolute confusion as he looked back and forth between the mirror and his friend.
"A ghost, or a demon, I don't know," Fíli whispered, trying to recall what the thing had looked like. Definitely human, male, probably, but the details were fuzzy. It was hard to picture anything other than the whites of its eyes. It was a good thing he'd managed to get to the toilet first, or he would have made a real mess of his sleep pants. And wouldn't that have been all the more embarrassing.
"You're…you're serious," Ori said, wiping some sleep from his eyes. He suddenly seemed much more focused and his face morphed into one of determination. He tugged Fíli up by his arm, turned off the light and pulled him out into the hallway.
"What are you doing?" Fíli gasped as his friend dragged him into every room, tugging him through the hallways quickly.
"Looking for it, I want to see it," he insisted, and Fíli gaped at him in disbelief. His friend was completely insane. No one in their right mind went looking for a ghost, but it seemed that nothing could persuade Ori otherwise. Together they searched the entire upper level, and some of the main floor as well, but there was no sign of a spirit or otherworldly being at all. Ori huffed loudly, his hands on his hips as he stared into their dark surroundings sourly before glancing towards the blond with a frown.
"I swear to god I did not make this up," Fíli said desperately. He was hunched over, still on edge, and wishing the other man would just let him turn on all the lights again.
"I believe you Fíli, I do," Ori turned away, shaking his head disappointedly. He was really hoping he might get the chance to see an actual ghost.
"I don't get why you can't see him," Fíli mentioned. A small part of him still thought it might be in his head. After all, Ori had been there, in the washroom, only seconds after the shower curtain had blocked his vision. Had the ghost really disappeared so quickly? Or was it never there to begin with?
"Maybe he doesn't want me to," Ori looked thoughtful and when their gazes met he raised an eyebrow and gave the blond a meaningful look.
"What? You think he only wants me to see him? But…but why?" Fíli asked. His muscular arms were wrapped around his chest, and he was pouting dramatically, looking like an overgrown child. Ori had to hold in his laughter at the sight.
"Well, you are living here now. Maybe he's haunting you. He could want you out," Ori started, watching the horrified expression wash across his friend's face. He felt a tad guilty, but not enough to hold in a tiny snort.
"Or…," Ori trailed off, and Fíli peered down at him intensely.
"Or what?" the blond demanded, his teeth gritted. He jolted as a heavy gust of wind blew against the window, clearly agitated by the very idea that some kind of spirit was out to get him.
"Maybe, he just wants to communicate with you," Ori suggested, trying to ease his friend's nerves just a bit. He'd read a lot of ghost books, and more often than not, those left behind were there for a reason. Whether it was to haunt someone, or to find help, ultimately they existed because they were trapped between one world and another, some sort of force preventing them from passing on. Unless it was a poltergeist. That was another problem altogether.
"What, by throwing shit around and scaring the living daylights out of me?" Fíli growled, his arms flexing slightly as he fidgeted in place. He was over exaggerating. The ghost had done little more than appear in front of him Sure, there had been a few…creepy things, like the strange sounds in the middle of the night, and the picture frame crashing to the floor, but he couldn't say for sure that they were the ghost's fault. He was ninety-nine percent sure they were though and it was enough for him to voice his concerns.
"It might be his only way of speaking for all we know," Ori said, and he turned serious.
"He hasn't tried to hurt you right?" the smaller man asked worriedly. Fíli huffed loudly, running nervous fingers through his hair.
"Other than the impending heart attack?" Fíli tilted his head dramatically, and the smaller man rolled his eyes.
"You know what I mean. He hasn't attacked you? Does he look angry?" Ori asked, and Fíli breathed in deep and looked down towards his feet.
"Honestly, I didn't really have enough time to think about it, I just…backed away as fast as I could and then you were there before I had the chance to really look at him," Fíli admitted. He struggled to recall the ghost's features. He remembered long hair, thick eyebrows. It had been slim…but it was hard to really put a shape to the body at all. Its expression had seemed frightening at the time, but had it been angry? Fíli couldn't say for sure.
Ori sighed heavily, and placed a hand on the blond's shoulder.
"Well…there's not much we can do if it doesn't want to be seen. It's still the middle of the night. Let's try and get some sleep," he suggested, leading Fíli back towards the air mattress.
"Sleep, yeah, right," Fíli muttered under his breath, glancing over his shoulder as he was ushered along.
May 15th, 1909
Dear Diary,
It's been a few days, but I welcome your presence once again. I've not had any company for weeks, other than the servants bringing me tea in the afternoon. Vílidan is rarely home, and when he is, he locks himself away in his office. I spend some time with Kíli, but he keeps busy as well. He spends most of his time away from studies with his easel, painting outside, or doing portraits of people around the house. The landscapes are stunning. I think he could sell them for a good amount of money, but he seems rather attached. He's taken to hanging them around the house. I rather like the sight of my son's artwork on the walls. There's more each and every day, and it does wonders to bring a little life to my surroundings.
Vílidan does not seem overly pleased, though almost nothing manages to bring a smile to his surly face these days. In fact, my husband has been acting quite strange. He won't let me leave the house when he's home, and I find he's become jealous and easy to anger. He hardly looks at Kíli anymore, and I'm not sure why. He was so excited when our boy first started to paint, but now it's as though our son cannot do anything to make him proud. His grades are not good enough, he doesn't study hard enough, he dresses poorly, and each new image only receives a harsh critique.
I realize he wants Kíli to grow into a good man, a man like him, but I feel the pressure may be too much. Kíli is such a kind boy, so innocent and warm hearted. I do not want to see that childlike quality in his eyes disappear because of unrealistic expectations.
I've tried to talk to Vílidan, but he will not discuss anything to do with Kíli. He brushes my comments aside and talks of other things. He makes love to me in the evenings, just as he used to, but it feels strange, possessive, and sometimes the look in his eyes frightens me.
I am antsy. I feel the urge to get out of the house, to move, to do anything other than sit inside. Perhaps I'll try to take a walk in the park this weekend. Maybe I can even convince Vílidan to come with me and Kíli, and we can have a picnic while our son paints the scenery around us.
It sounds lovely, too good to be true.
Until next time,
Discordia
The two men stood together at Fíli's front door, Ori still yawning as he guzzled down a coffee. As soon as he was done the drink he handed his mug over to the blond, shouldering his backpack as he scrutinized his friend.
"You sure you're going to be alright for a day or two?" Ori asked. He didn't feel right, leaving his friend in such a state, but he had a ton of writing to finish up for work, and there was no way he'd meet his deadlines if he stuck around.
"I'll manage," Fíli muttered, leaning against the doorframe wearily.He'd slept for a measly three hours the night prior and still looked exhausted, but it was more rest than he'd had for several days.
"Call me if anything happens okay, you know, with the ghost," Ori whispered, leaning forwards and covering his mouth as he glanced to the side, even though there wasn't a single soul around to witness their conversation. Fíli snorted and ushered him away with a wave, closing the door gently behind him. He let out a sigh, glaring briefly at the stairway to his left, and then he walked slowly through the hallway. The blond paused in front of the portrait of the woman, staring at it a little more thoroughly than before. Fíli couldn't help but notice similarities between her and the ghost he'd seen, the hair, the eyes, the pallid skin. He wondered if there was some kind of relation. Fíli didn't recall seeing any pictures of the man that haunted him on any of the walls.
He spent the majority of the day searching rooms, far more thoroughly than ever before. He went through dusty books, uncovered every painting he could find, to no avail. There definitely wasn't a single hint of the ghostly man, though he found several more that featured the woman, and even one or two with the blond man as well.
Fíli glared outside at the setting sun grumpily. His jaw was uncomfortably tense, his shoulders hunched forwards. He didn't want to spend another night fearfully looking over his shoulder and startling at the sight of every shadow around him. In fact, he was determined not to. The blond dragged a rocking chair into the foyer, pushing it up against the farthest wall from the hall. He stacked snacks and drinks beside it, grasped his flashlight tightly between his hands and sat down to wait out the long night ahead. Fíli stared across into the small opening leading out into the hall as he rocked back and forth on the chair. The woman's portrait was perfectly framed by the archway, and Fíli narrowed his eyes as the lighting darkened, making her appear even sadder and paler than before. There was no doubt in his mind that she was involved, somehow, even if just by blood.
Hours passed by, the creaking of his chair the only sound echoing loudly through the room. He wiped his hands on his knees, stretched out his neck and downed a chocolate bar. He began fidgeting, bobbing his leg up and down as the night went on without any sight or sound of something suspicious. It was strangely silent, and for a moment Fíli regretted not just going to sleep. But then he felt something strange. The air around him cooled, and the hairs on his arms stood on end. The shadows elongated, creating strange foreign patterns on the wall, and a moment later he saw it.
Fíli halted in his movements all at once, holding his breath as a ghostly form walked into his line of sight. He had to force himself not to cry out or switch on his light, instead sitting silently as he observed the spirit's actions. The figure paused just in front of the portrait, reaching out towards it almost mournfully, and Fíli watched the play of emotions, what little he could see, wash across its face. It was the clearest and longest he'd ever seen the ghost before and Fíli felt his heart skip a beat as he took in its tortured face in detail. It didn't just look sad, it looked tired, with dark circles beneath its eyes, and a body that was thin as a rail. Fíli swallowed as the ghost moved again, exiting his line of sight, and he mustered all his courage and stood, inching towards the archway as quietly as possible. He peeked around the corner just slightly, barely catching the tail end of the ghost as it floated strangely up the spiral staircase and disappeared.
Fíli breathed in quickly, and flew back around the corner, collapsing against the wall. The flashlight nearly slipped from his sweaty hands, and he tucked it into his pocket with shaking fingers, searching frenziedly for his cell. It took him ages to get off the lock screen and punch in the right numbers, and he pressed the phone to his ear and hunched atop the ground, listening to the ringing impatiently.
"Who's 'at," Ori mumbled sleepily as the line fizzed to life.
"You said to call you!" Fíli practically shouted, and he ducked down lower and looked up at his surroundings when his voice came out louder than expected.
"Wha…?" Ori asked and Fíli heard him rustling around a bit and then a sudden intake of air.
"Oh my god, the ghost, did something happen? Are you okay? Fíli?!" Ori yelled back, and the blond tugged his phone away from his ear as the other man got increasingly louder.
"It's okay, everything's okay. I'm fine. I saw it again! It just walked past the foyer and then up the stairs, it was so strange. Like everything went cold and then there it was, just calmly walking by," Fíli told, and he twisted his body, peering around the corner just to make sure he was still alone. There was nothing amiss in the front hall, and the staircase was still empty.
"Well…did you try to follow it?" Ori asked eagerly, and Fíli could hear him sorting out his blankets.
"Follow it…are you mad?" Fíli hissed. The blond gripped his cell in both hands, frowning as he shook his head in disbelief.
"Well how else are you supposed to find out where it went?" Ori questioned, and Fíli could practically see the scathing look on his friend's face over the line. The blond rolled his eyes, and let out an exasperated noise, falling back against the wall.
"Well it's too late now, the sun is nearly up," Fíli muttered lowly. He crawled across the floor, phone tucked against his ear, and fell atop his mattress like a starfish. The morning light eased his nerves slightly, and eventually he fell asleep to the sound of Ori chattering away about popular ghost stories.
October 11th, 1913
Dear Diary,
I just don't know what to do anymore. Vílidan has changed. He's not the man I remember marrying. He drinks, far too much. He glares at our son with such rage. He's grown to hate Kíli, and I cannot understand why! Kíli has done nothing wrong. Vílidan has always been such a good father, caring and loving, until these past few years. It doesn't make sense!
I can see my son's confusion. The hurt in his eyes when his father ignores him or pushes him away is unbearable. Kíli has become isolated and quiet. He only leaves his room for his studies and our family meals, and even those have become tense and difficult to endure.
Kíli is nearly a man now. But sometimes he still seems so very young. He has an innocent view of the world, and I fear perhaps he's become too sheltered here in this home. Still, I don't want to see that innocence fade. Sometimes he wears his hair like me, pulled back and braided, and it reminds me of when he was just a young lad. I miss those days dearly.
Discordia
Several days went by without another ghost sighting, and Fíli was starting to wonder if things had been in his head after all. His last encounter seemed far too real, and he wasn't quite willing to give up on it, but the restful nights were a welcome addition. Had the ghost simply forgotten about him? Had he given up on haunting him? Had he left for good? Or was he just waiting, for the right moment to really do his worst? Fíli didn't know for sure, but he was trying his best not to let it eat away at him. For some reason, the thought of the ghost didn't bother him as much anymore, not after getting a closer look at it. In fact, he'd been rather productive, finishing replacing the foyer floor and even stripping the wallpaper in the kitchen. The walls were nearly ready to paint, and he'd picked out a nice blue that reminded him of the ocean, with Ori's help of course.
He was in the middle of replacing the handles on the cabinet doors when his phone buzzed in his back pocket. Fíli pulled his head out from behind the door, a mini flashlight hovering in his mouth as he fumbled around for his phone.
"Fíli 'ere," he muttered around the object in his mouth, not even taking the time to look at the caller. He tightened up a few screws when his friend's voice sounded over the line.
"Fíli you have to see this!" Ori practically shouted, and Fíli squeezed his eyes shut and shrugged against the phone.
"Hold on jus' a sec," Fíli muttered, finishing up before he slid from the countertop, set down the flashlight, and readjusted the phone in his hand.
"Okay, what's up?" Fíli asked, pouring himself a glass of water as he propped himself against the counter.
"What's the ghost look like? Is he blond? Is it the man in the portrait that fell?" Ori spat out and Fíli frowned and rubbed idly at his beard.
"No…no I don't think so. I mean it's a bit hard to tell…he's so pale, but, I'm certain his hair is much darker. Actually he looks a bit like the woman, but younger," Fíli described.
"That's what I was afraid of…here I'm sending you a picture," Ori said, and Fíli pulled his cell away from his face to check the incoming text. It was an image of a paper clipping, and Fíli zoomed in on it, scanning the text quickly before putting the phone back to his face.
"What is this?" he asked with a frown.
"I found it in some library archives. It's a clipping from an old newspaper. Looks like the last family to live in your house was murdered. Or at least the mother and father were. They found the father dead in the middle of the home, and the mother's body floating in the nearby river," Ori told, and Fíli's fingers clenched against the countertop tightly.
"But the weird thing is…they never found the son. It says they think he may have killed his parents and run away to hide before anyone could catch him," Ori's voice lowered dramatically as he finished and Fíli shivered against his will.
"You think…this ghost is the kid? The murderer?" Fíli whispered, his eyes searching the kitchen even though it was the middle of the day.
"Well, it's a possibility." There was a long pause on the line and Fíli listened to the clacking of keys sounding on his friend's side. Something about the theory didn't feel right. Why would a person haunt the home they committed a crime in? Surely there was something more to the story.
"No…I don't think that's the case. I mean I was scared of him at first, but you were right. He doesn't really seem threatening, just…sad. Actually I think he might be just as scared of me," Fíli admitted, thinking back on the wide eyed look he remembered from his first two encounters with the spirit.
"Just…be careful Fíli, we don't know what really happened," Ori warned, and Fíli scrunched up his face in irritation.
"You're the one that told me to follow it!" he accused with a snort.
"Well…I know, and I still think you should, just be careful! If I didn't have this article to write I'd be there with you, but I'm on a deadline," Ori moaned, and Fíli could envision his pout.
"Alright. I get it. I'll try to stay out of trouble. I haven't seen him again anyways, so who knows, maybe he's gone for good," Fíli sighed wistfully, though he knew it was likely not the case.
December 28th 1913
Dear Diary,
I don't know what to do! Vílidan accused me of terrible things! He came home drunk beyond belief, red faced, his words slurred beyond any sort of recognition. He was shouting and throwing things at the walls. The china is broken, my mother's teapot in pieces, beyond repair. I'm crying as I look at it. I've locked myself in the study, I can't bear to look my husband in the eyes. They are so filled with anger, with disgust. And I do not understand where such crazy ideas came from.
He says Kíli's eyes are too dark, his nose too small. He says he looks far too much like the locksmith in town.
It's not true! I love Vílidan, with all my heart. I wouldn't dream of betraying him so. Perhaps if he smiled…he might see, Kíli is his son, there is no doubt in my mind. But I have not seen a smile on his face for ages, and I fear I never will again.
Regretfully,
Discordia
Fíli fell back into a more relaxed state despite his friend's warnings. He was sleeping better, growing used to the strange sounds within the house, and the longer he went without seeing the ghost, the less he worried about it at night. He worked hard through the days, getting as much done as possible, and by the time the sun set at night he was lucky if he had the energy to even read a few pages of a book.
The next time the ghost appeared caught him completely off guard and he nearly missed it altogether. Fíli awoke in the middle of the night, without the need to empty his bladder for once, and he frowned and shifted on the air mattress, listening to the plastic sounds of the rubber beneath his body. He rolled on his side, frowning in the direction of the hallway as he stared bleary eyed at his surroundings. It took him a while to really register what he was seeing, but his body froze atop his bed as he noticed the ghostly figure hovering in front of the woman's portrait once again.
Fíli hesitated only a moment before pushing the blankets from his body and scurrying to his feet. He swallowed, his eyes wide and surprisingly clear considering he'd only woken moments before, and he stepped unsteadily towards the entrance of the hall.
"Shit, man, what the hell am I doing?" Fíli muttered quietly, his gaze fixated on the ghost's back.
"Everyone knows this is how you die in a horror film, don't fucking follow it, idiot," Fíli chastised himself, but with a shake of his head he stepped even closer, managing to get right up to the archway without the spirit taking notice. He must have been no more than two metres away from the ghost, and Fíli's heart was pounding so fast he was surprised the spirit could not hear it. He swallowed, reminding himself he was six feet of solid muscle and not the dormouse he felt like. Fíli craned his neck, trying to get a better look at the thing's face. He caught the briefest glimpse of sorrow, and then surprise, as the ghost twisted and gaped at him in wonder.
"H-hello…," Fíli croaked, his fingers tightening against the frame of the archway. The ghost faded in and out from sight, and then quickly flew back, disappearing through the wall.
"No wait!" Fíli shouted, reaching out suddenly towards it, and he stepped out into the hallway and looked down it in both directions but saw now sign of the apparition. Fíli hobbled towards the portrait, touching the wall in the place the ghost had disappeared. He pressed his face against the paneling, listening for something, and he jolted when a pale head appeared slowly, just a few feet away. The ghost was hanging half out of the wall, staring at him tentatively, and Fíli gulped and licked his lips nervously as he offered it a shaky smile.
"It's okay," Fíli whispered, pulling his ear from the wall as he studied the ghost's features with keen eyes. The face was young, but not as young as he initially thought, and there was so much life in the pair of eyes studying him for a being that was technically not alive at all. The irises were dark, the eyebrows thick and emotive, and Fíli flushed slightly as he took in the attractive features.
"Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you," he urged, internally laughing at how ridiculous that sounded. As if a ghost needed encouraging. If anyone was in danger of getting hurt it was him. His words seemed to work though, and the ghost emerged further from the wall, until it was floating at his side, hands clasped together in front of its body. The two stared at each other, neither moving an inch, other than the occasional tilting of heads. Fíli noted that the ghost had feet, but they did not touch the ground, instead fading in and out along with the clothing swirling about his body. Fíli could see through his midsection to the hallway extending behind him, but the ghost's face and neck were so opaque he thought they might be solid to the touch.
"I'm sorry if I scared you," Fíli voiced, turning so he faced the spirit head on. The ghost looked down, and nibbled on its lip before offering him a miniscule smile. Fíli grinned awkwardly in return, caught in a moment of disbelief that he was actually conversing with someone that was dead. He rather liked the way the ghost's face changed with the expression, and for a moment Fíli wondered how he'd ever thought it even remotely frightening. His gaze shifted to the left, and he gestured towards the portrait on the wall.
"Is this…your mother?" Fíli asked. The spirit's face fell, its chin lowering as its entire body seemed to sink towards the ground. It nodded slightly, messy wisps of dark hair falling forwards at the sides of its face, and Fíli realized the rest of the locks were pulled back into a braid, similar to that of the woman.
"You look like her," he whispered without thinking. The ghost didn't seem upset by the comment, and smiled slightly again, though it was obvious he was still greatly pained.
"This is…a nice place you've got here. Hope you don't mind me intruding," Fíli joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere a bit. It seemed to work, and the ghost smirked at him wryly and moved closer, looking him up and down intently. The spirit's eyes suddenly lit up and his mouth opened as though he wanted to speak, but no sound came out. Instead he reached forward, two wraithlike hands moving to grasp one of Fíli's within them, but they slid right through, leaving the blond's fingers feeling icy cold. The ghost gaped at his empty hands, and his face crumpled in defeat. It tried again, reaching out to grasp the blond's arm, and then his shirt, but still, nothing, and Fíli felt his heart sink at the defeated expression on the spirit's face.
"There's…something you want me to see?" he guessed, and the ghost nodded, passing through him quickly towards the staircase. Fíli felt shivers run up his spine, and his chest stuttered at the cold feeling that washed over his form. He rubbed at his arms and turned around, catching sight of the ghost already moving up the stairs. It stared at him, pointing ahead, and Fíli followed slowly, working his way to the dark upper level of the home. The ghost floated down the hallway and back hurriedly, pausing to wait at times with an impatient look in its eyes. It pointed at the portrait of the man, still propped up on the floor, and rubbed the back of its neck apologetically.
"You did that? You made it fall?" Fíli asked, chuckling lightly as the ghost shrugged and tucked some hair behind an ear. Fíli snorted as it floated quickly away again, surprised by the sudden excitement it was showing, and then he watched as the ghost pointed at a wall and disappeared through it. Fíli frowned, wondering where the spirit had gone. There was no room to his knowledge on the other side of the wall, and there certainly wasn't a door in sight. A heavy cabinet was set up against the panelling, and the rest of it featured little more than peeling wallpaper and chipping paint. He eyed it curiously, watching as the ghost reappeared and disappeared several times over.
"I can't go through walls like you," Fíli muttered, shaking his head slightly from side to side. The ghost frowned at him, pointing intently towards the wall, and he passed through it once more. Fíli raised an eyebrow and ran his hands along the paper. Dust fell to the floor and he grimaced at the disgusting feeling against his palms. There was no candlestick for him to grab, or picture frame for him to move, and no sign existed of any kind of way to the other side. Besides, he'd taken a tour of the upper level with the realtor, and was sure he knew about every room the home had to offer.
When the ghost poked his head back through the wall again Fíli shrugged his shoulders regretfully, watching as the spirit sagged slightly in disappointment.
"I'm sorry, I…I'm not sure what you're trying to show me," Fíli said, and the ghost looked at him for a moment before moving fully into the hallway to hover just in front of the blond's body. He looked frustrated, slouched over as he frowned and rubbed at his neck. It was clear he wanted to speak, desperately even, but something prevented him from doing so. Without thinking Fíli lifted a hand, letting his fingers graze the edge of the ghost's face. There was nothing solid beneath his touch, and his fingertips passed through the transparent skin when they moved too close. He could feel the change in temperature, the cold seeping into his palm, and the ghost looked at him suddenly and tilted its head into the non-existent touch.
Fíli's heart ached at the anguished look in the other being's eyes. It was as though the air had been sucked from his lungs, like time had stopped and he couldn't move or think of anything else. The intimate moment passed, and the ghost's gaze shifted slightly to look towards the window at the end of the hall. Fíli watched as rays of light began creeping up the walls at his side, the sun beginning to rise as the birds chirped away outside. A moment later and the spirit faded from view, and Fíli was left in the hallway alone, his fingers chilled to the bone.
January 17th, 1914
Dear Diary,
Kíli has stopped smiling, he's stopped painting. He won't speak, or sleep, or eat. I cannot remember the last time I saw him happy. He looks so worn, so afraid. He knows something is amiss, he hears us fighting, and sees the way Vílidan watches him with hateful eyes.
My husband…he even raised his hand against our son. There is no excuse for such a thing, not even the alcohol can be blamed. I gasped and shouted, I cursed at him for daring to harm Kíli. And then he looked at me like I had betrayed him! Now neither of them will speak to me, and I feel lost in my own home.
Kíli takes long walks in the woods, sometimes leaving for an entire day. He does whatever he can to stay away from Vílidan, and wanders the house like he doesn't belong. Sometimes I see him staring at nothing, as though he's waiting for someone to save him. But there is no one who can.
I wish I was stronger.
I saw him packing a bag yesterday, like he was planning to go somewhere for a very long time. I got upset, and made him promise he wouldn't leave. I cannot help but hope there is still a happy future for us all. Perhaps we can get through this, together.
Sincerely,
Discordia
"You met him!?" Ori hissed, his eyes wide as he stared down from a few steps above. Fíli gripped the bannister in one hand and ran the other through his hair with a shrug.
"Oh my god Fíli, why didn't you call me right away!?" Ori cried, and he stormed up the rest of the stairs, not even checking to see if Fíli was following. They met in the upper hallway, Ori hovering along one side, his eyes scouring the wall for some sort of clue.
"Where was it? Here? It went through this wall?" Ori said, running his fingers along the peeling paper.
"There's nothing there Ori, I took a tour," Fíli muttered under his breath, but Ori was relentless, and he pressed his face up against the wall and knocked on it several times with his fist. Fíli raised an eyebrow at his friend and crossed his arms, leaning against the wall as he watched him move along slowly. The smaller man paused at the cabinet taking in the heavy tapestry covering the wall behind it, and he inched his fingers behind the aged wood and tugged on it hard. It didn't budge.
"What are you doing?" Fíli asked.
"Help me move this," Ori said over his shoulder, and Fíli rolled his eyes but moved to the other side. Together they managed to drag the cabinet away from the wall, and Ori hurried behind it, pulling the tapestry away from the panelling.
"I knew it! There's a door behind here!" Ori said excitedly, squeezing beneath the tapestry.
"What? Seriously?" Fíli gaped at the other man and hurried to lift the opposite side of the tapestry. The blond coughed as his lungs filled with dust, but he squeezed in next to his friend regardless, staring at the door in surprise. He felt like an idiot. How could he have missed something so glaringly obvious?
"The sales rep never said anything about this…," Fíli trailed off as Ori twisted the doorknob, but it stayed locked in place.
"You'll have to take this off," Ori said and Fíli lifted a hand and dragged his fingers along the intricate engravings in the door.
"You…think it's alright?" Fíli asked. He was hesitant to break into the room. It was clearly hidden for a reason, and somehow it felt like he might be intruding.
"He showed you this didn't he? He obviously wants you to go in there," Ori reminded him, and Fíli nodded absently, standing still as his friend hurried to get the toolbox. The screws were rusted in place and it took both of them much longer than expected to twist them out, but eventually they managed to dismantle the locking mechanism and open the door. It creaked loudly on its hinges, and Fíli stepped into the room, his shirt held up over his mouth and nose. It reeked of mould and dust, and his eyes watered as the musty air irritated them.
It was a small room, with many tables and bookshelves lining the walls, along with some kind of desk tucked into the far corner. Knickknacks covered almost every surface, though it was difficult to identify any of them through the thick layer of cobwebs and grime. There were some framed black and white photographs on the walls, yellowed and faded with time and Fíli wandered around, taking in the stern faces of people from an era long gone.
"Do you think there're other rooms in this house I don't know about?" Fíli asked, his voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.
"I'm certain there are," Ori said, and he clapped his hands together and smirked at the blond.
"Well, I know what we're spending the day doing," he commented, and Fíli groaned, knowing he had yet another full day's worth of cleaning ahead.
February 2nd, 1914
Dear Diary,
I had a frightful dream. No, not a dream, a nightmare. In it my son was broken and bleeding on the floor, my husband laughing as he looked down upon him. It was terrifying. I've never seen something so horrific before. The blood…there was so much of it, and I fear I'll never forget the distraught expression on Kíli's face. His eyes were blank, lifeless, his mouth contorted in pain, like he had died screaming for mercy.
I woke with a shout, tears streaming down my face.
It cannot be true, surely not. But sometimes I look into Vilidan's eyes, and I'm not sure what he might be capable of. He's been silent lately, and I was hoping perhaps his anger was beginning to lessen with time. But this dream has me worried and on edge.
Kíli was white as a ghost today. He won't talk to me, and I wonder if the nightmares haunt him as they haunt me. I can only imagine what horrors he sees at night. If they are anything like my dreams, it is no wonder he looks so ill.
Discordia
Fíli sat hunched against the wall atop his relocated air mattress, book in hand. Ori had convinced him to camp out in the newly discovered room, with the intention of making contact with the ghost once again. He was a bit apprehensive about the idea. He'd only just begun to feel comfortable sleeping in the foyer, and there was something about the small, suffocating room that made him feel incredibly ill at ease. But he didn't want to go another week without seeing the ghost, and it was likely the best spot in the house to wait.
He was having trouble focusing on the passage in the novel he was reading, his flashlight pointed at the pages as he dragged his finger across a line of text. It was the third or fourth time he'd read the same words, and Fíli let his head fall back against the wall as he sighed. He was tired of waiting. Perhaps the ghost had grown so frustrated with him that it decided Fíli wasn't worth its time. Or maybe it was all an elaborate trap, and the spirit planned to lure him into the room only to imprison him there until he died of starvation.
Fíli scoffed at the idea and set the book down beside him. He pointed the flashlight around the room, taking in the much cleaner surroundings. There were tons of interesting things to look at, and Ori had spent hours scouring the books on the shelves while Fíli vacuumed around his feet. He stared at the doorway, and narrowed his eyes when it seemed to move slightly on its hinges. Fíli sat up quickly as it opened up just barely, and he whipped the flashlight in front of him as the ghost's form came into view. It stared at him openly, then looked down at its lower body, invisible within the bright ray of light. Fíli flicked the light away and back again, watching as the ghost's body faded in and out of view, but he lowered the flashlight sheepishly and flicked it off when the ghost made an annoyed face.
"S-sorry," Fíli muttered. The ghost pouted at him for a moment but eventually smiled and floated closer. It circled him a few times and then mimed flicking him in the forehead.
"What? I got in!" Fíli laughed and spread out his arms in triumph, and he shifted to the edge of the mattress and stood beside the spirit taking in its joyous expression. For a moment he was caught by the other being's light. It seemed like he was clearer than ever, and Fíli stared into his dark eyes intently. The ghost's smile was captivating, and he looked surprisingly alive for someone that had been dead for a century.
"Why…did you lead me here," Fíli asked, his gaze drawn to the spirit's pale lips, and the reaction was immediate. The ghost soared into one corner of the room, waving him over eagerly towards the ornate writing desk pushed against the wall. Ori had rambled on and on about how gorgeous the desk was when they first dusted it off. He was sure it was worth a fortune, but made Fíli promise never to sell it, and the blond reluctantly agreed.
Fíli approached, watching the way the ghost pointed excitedly beneath the desk. The blond frowned, but got down on his knees, flashlight in hand, and started searching the crevices beneath it. He didn't see anything immediately, but he'd learned his lesson once, and didn't plan on giving up quite so easily the second time. He ran his fingers along the edges slowly, urged on by Kíli's rapid nods, until his fingers ran up against some kind of switch. Fíli paused for a moment, and flicked it down, then he flew backwards as the desk rocked slightly and various drawers began opening up. The mechanism was intricate and unlike anything he'd ever seen before. Panels opened, revealing hidden compartments and Fíli watched it complete the process in awe.
"Whoa!" he gasped once it was finished. His mouth hung open and he stood, peering at the desk curiously. He scoured the revealed compartments, finding several sheets of browned paper, clippings, a few ink wells and nibs, along with some fountain pens. His fingers hovered over a photograph, well-worn around the edges before he picked it up in his hand. It featured a man and woman side by side. They were smiling, and the woman held a baby in her arms, wrapped up in layers of laced cloth. He stared at it for a while, his gaze breaking only when a pale hand reached down to hover just above. The ghost looked forlorn, lost in a memory, and Fíli wanted nothing more than to bring him back and see him smile once more.
"Is that you? The baby?" Fíli asked, and the ghost lifted its head to look at him, pulling his hand away from the photo quickly. It nodded, and then moved on, pointing to a different compartment to the left. Fíli took one last look at the photo before putting it back, and he searched the next drawer carefully. There were several blank sheets of paper strewn about it, but beneath them all, there was a leather-bound book, tied off with a bit of string. Fíli flipped it over in his hands and opened it, glancing at the pages briefly. They were filled with delicate handwriting, each entry dated and signed by the same person.
"A journal. Is it yours?" Fíli asked, his fingers turning the stiffened pages carefully. The ghost shook his head and looked towards the journal pointedly.
"You want me to read it? I suppose that'd clear things up a bit," Fíli chuckled, checking how far back the writing went.
"There are a lot of entries, it'll take a while, but I'll try," he said, watching the excited expression work its way back onto the ghost's face. It bounced in the air and beckoned him throughout the rest of the room, pausing every so often to show him something of interest on a shelf. The spirit seemed particularly excited about a set of clacking balls and Fíli watched as it bent low and held its hand up with a focused expression. The ghost's eyebrows knitted together, and after several moments the balls began to move, clattering against one another in a steady rhythm. Fíli grinned as the ghost smiled and pointed at the trinket gleefully, but the dark haired creature was visibly drained from the effort, its image fading slightly as it slouched towards the ground. It took several minutes for him to regain his strength, and he drooped over the table and watched the metal balls swing until his form solidified again.
The ghost floated over to one of the bookshelves next, pointing at a well-read novel tucked between two large tombs. Fíli pulled it from the shelf, smirking as he read the title. Treasure Island.
"I take it you like this one. Want me to read to you?" Fíli asked, and the ghost's eyes widened and its mouth opened and closed a few times. The expression morphed slightly, eyebrows lowering as its nostrils flared, and Fíli though it might have been on the verge of crying, if such a thing was possible. The ghost nodded and the two settled atop the air mattress with crossed legs as Fíli began reading the first chapter aloud. An hour later and the ghost had fallen into sleep curled up at his side, and the blond watched as it sunk into the bed slightly and floated back up, parts of its body fading from view periodically. Fíli closed the book and lay down, staring up at the ceiling with tired eyes. It was strange, but as he turned his head to the side to watch his ghostly companion, Fíli felt truly happy. He barely knew the spirit, didn't even know his name. But he wanted to, and he'd do whatever he could to find out more.
February 13th, 1914
Dear Diary,
There was a terrible storm last night. The thunder was so loud I could not hear anything else. It rumbled throughout the house, shaking the windows with each loud bang, and I curled beneath my blankets and shook until it passed. I thought for a moment there were screams echoing through the halls, but surely it was only my imagination. The tree branches scratching against the windows, or the house settling, all of it sounds the same now. Every shadow looks menacing, every corridor, dark and looming.
Yes, it's only my imagination.
Discordia
Fíli spent the next few days reading the journal in between fixing up the house. It was interesting, but felt slightly intrusive, like he was delving into the private thoughts of another person without their permission. Which he was, in a sense. He barely scraped the surface of it, but he'd read enough to at least understand who the ghost was.
The journal had once belonged to the ghost's mother, Discordia.
It was fascinating to read. She wrote about everything, from the flowers growing in the garden to the deepest feelings in her mind. She wrote about her family, and the things they did together on a daily basis. Sometimes she wrote for days on end, and other times, there were gaps as long as several months between one entry and the next. It was going to take him a long while to get through it.
When nightfall approached Fíli waited for the spirit to show, but there was no sign of him anywhere within the house. He scoured the hallways, listening for any sign. There were the usual sounds, the floorboards creaking, and the chains outside as the swings moved to and fro in the wind. There was one thing out of place however. When Fíli looked out the window he noticed it wasn't windy at all, the trees were strangely still. He frowned, opening the back door and peering hesitantly out into the yard. And there the ghost sat, swaying on the swings, pale and glowing beneath the light of the moon.
Fíli walked towards the ghost, sitting on the empty swing beside him. The chains creaked beneath the blond's weight, and he tugged on them gently to test their strength, moving himself back and forth with the heels of his feet. The ghost was staring at the stars, and though he didn't look towards the blond, he did acknowledge Fíli's presence with a smile.
"Are you…Kíli?" Fíli asked, and the ghost nodded and lowered his gaze from the sky.
"I started reading the journal," Fíli mentioned, and their gazes locked as Kíli twisted in his seat to face him.
"So that portrait…in the front hall is your mother. Is the one upstairs your father?" The blond asked softly, and the ghost grimaced sadly and nodded again. Fíli studied his features with interest. There was so much of him that looked like his mother. The dark colour of his hair and eyes, the shape of his face and chin. Even his nose was small and petite like the woman in the portrait. But there were some things, like the way his lips curved slightly at the edges, and the fullness of his eyebrows. Those features were unmistakably from his father.
"I'm Fíli," the blond uttered. He was tempted to reach out a hand, but held fast to the chains instead, figuring it would only upset the ghost when their fingers ultimately failed to touch. The two of them rocked back and forth on the swings, the rusty chains squealing on their hinges as Fíli thought about the portraits and the old article from the paper. There must have been more to it. Kíli didn't seem like a murderer. He wasn't frightening, not now that Fíli had spent a good amount of time in his presence. He was playful and friendly, starved for attention. And there was nothing in the journal that pointed in that direction either, at least not yet.
"Why aren't there any paintings of you?" Fíli asked, and Kíli pursed his lips, halting his movement atop the swing. It looked as though he was struggling to come to an answer, and instead he stared back at the blond with a serious look in his eyes before standing and floating drearily towards the house.
February 14th, 1914
Dear Diary,
Vílidan was so happy today, just like his old self. He smiled at me, and I saw love in his eyes that I have not seen there for quite some time. But I cannot find Kíli anywhere. He's been missing for a full day now. Vílidan says not to worry, that the lad just needs some freedom. I'm sure he's right. His bags are still in his room, and none of his belongings are missing, so I'm certain he has not run away. Perhaps he's at a friend's house, or maybe he's hiding in the attic. I don't like venturing up there alone to find out.
Kíli is old enough to take care of himself for a few days. It might be best if I give him some time to himself.
Despite my worries it was a wonderful evening. Vílidan surprised me with dinner and flowers, and we danced for hours as the pianola played our favourite songs until the stars shone in the sky. It was just like it used to be.
Yours,
Discordia
The ghost led Fíli throughout the home, once again to the upper level. It paused in the eastern wing to look up towards the ceiling, and then turned towards Fíli before holding up both hands in front of the blond's chest. Fíli stared at him, finally understanding that he wasn't to move, and he watched as Kíli floated up through the ceiling and disappeared above. A few moments later and cracks formed above him, and Fíli gaped in surprise as a square plank fell down from above, followed by a ladder skidding out towards the hallway in front of him.
Kíli reappeared, poking his head out from the crumbling hole, and Fíli held his arm above his eyes as he stepped beneath the falling debris and looked up into the hidden room. It was yet another thing he didn't know about the home, and he frowned as he tugged on the ladder, testing out its strength. He was hesitant to climb it, but Kíli was waiting, so he worked his way up the creaking planks, eventually managing to pull his body over the ledge. Fíli covered his face and sneezed several times, and then a small breeze wafted through the attic, clearing up some of the air. The blond saw Kíli sitting on a stool next to a tiny round window, looking exhausted and nearly transparent. The effort of moving both the entrance and the window must have drained nearly all of his energy. He was flickering from view, and likely struggling to stay visible at all.
Fíli stood up quickly and cursed when his head knocked against a low hanging plank. There was little space to stand, and he ducked low, rubbing at his head as he shuffled to Kíli's side. There were stacks of framed pictures stuffed into nearly every crevice, and Fíli realised they were paintings covered and thrown haphazardly atop one another. There must have been hundreds of them, landscapes, portraits, studies of buildings and still life. Fíli paused to lift several of them, taking in the beautiful brushstrokes strewn across the canvases. He was nearly at the bottom of a stack, when he caught sight of a familiar looking face. Fíli pulled the canvas out, looking at the portrait of a gorgeous young man. He possessed rich brown eyes, and dark hair that fell in wavy locks around his face. He wore a simple white shirt, loose around the neck so that it hung low enough to reveal an ornate locket. Fíli glanced over the top of the painting, looking towards Kíli and then back at the portrait again. The skin was lusher, the cheeks lightly flushed and fuller, but there was no doubt that it was him.
Fíli set it aside, not quite willing to let it stay hidden beneath the hastily stacked paintings that filled the room, and he sat down on the windowsill beside Kíli and looked into the ghost's eyes.
"You were pretty attractive, huh? Well you still are actually," Fíli said, his face heating slightly as he realised how incredibly dorky the statement was. He leaned back against the window frame and let his fingers twist in the ends of his beard while Kíli ducked his head bashfully and turned away on the stool. There was an easel on his other side, and what looked like a still in-progress work was propped up on it. Fíli reached around the ghost to dust it off a bit, revealing swirling trees and the beginnings of a river running through them. Kíli turned towards him, and Fíli was caught by his gaze, startled at the sudden crispness of his eyes. The ghost held up a hand and mimed painting, his eyes closing slightly as he dragged an imaginary brush across the unfinished canvas. The movements were slow, intentional, and repetitive, as though he had practised them for years.
"Are these…all yours?" Fíli asked, and he sat back and gazed at the stacks of canvases in a new light when the ghost confirmed the answer with a single nod. It was such a vast amount of work, for a person still so young. Kíli must have painted every single day from a very early age to have accomplished so much.
"You're so talented," Fíli whispered, his gaze drawn to the portrait once again. The painted eyes stared back at him and when he turned to look into the slightly paled ones of the ghost beside him he was met with a saddened smile. Kíli's fingers hovered over the canvas in front of him, following the marks Fíli had left in the accumulated dust. It was like he craved more than anything to feel that texture against his skin, like he wanted nothing more than to leave his own marks, the be able to paint again.
"You miss it," Fíli said, and he wished he could comfort the ghost in some way. He wasn't very good with words, and there was little he could do for the spirit other than speak. Kíli didn't answer, instead drifting in and out of view, his attention fixated on the landscape. It must have been agonizing to stare at a painting each day and be unable to do anything to complete it. A work forever left unfinished.
February 19th, 1914
Dear Diary,
I have not seen my dear Kíli in nearly a week. I'm wrought with worry. Surely he would have left a note had he planned on staying away for so long. I cannot help but think something terrible has happened to him. I hope he has not fallen into the river and drowned.
I want to report it to the police, but Vílidan refuses to let me out. The snow is up against the windows, and it would be difficult to get very far. He says it's not safe, that I must stay indoors now that the weather is so cold.
It angers me that he thinks me so weak. I'm not made of glass, and yet, here I sit, waiting, watching, for any sign of my son returning home.
Sincerely,
Discordia
When Ori arrived the next day Fíli was busy rehanging paintings throughout the house. He set back the ones he'd temporarily placed aside, and continued to hang as many as he could find spaces for. There were hundreds of empty spots on the walls, places that looked as though they were asking for one of Kíli's images to brighten them. And they looked even better against the freshly painted walls and vivid colours that surrounded them.
"I thought you were going to get rid of all the paintings," Ori muttered, as he followed Fíli through the hallway that led to one of the large living areas. It had likely been used for entertaining, and featured a large open space with ornate tables lining the walls. A giant chandelier hung in the centre of the room, giving off just enough light to make the area feel magical. Against one of the walls there was an old player piano, surrounded by other instruments, some of which he couldn't identify.
"Wait…this one wasn't here before," Ori paused, tilting his head to the side as he stared openly at the giant landscape hung on the opposite wall. It was probably the largest canvas in the attic. It had been difficult to even get through the trap door. But Fíli was nothing if not determined, and he grinned every time he looked up at the beautiful scene on the wall. It was different from many of Kíli's paintings, happier, more whimsical. It featured a fantastical world, with swirling colourful trees, and a sky so entrancing Fíli found it difficult to look away. Off to one side there was a single figure, draped in a cloak that hid the person's form, and they stood entwined between branches, almost becoming part of a tree as well.
Fíli loved it. He knew exactly where he wanted it the moment he first laid eyes on it.
"Where'd you find this?" Ori asked, standing beneath the large canvas with his hands on his hips.
"In the attic. Kíli showed it to me," Fíli said. Ori frowned, the gears in his brain working in overdrive as he glanced at Fíli out of the corners of his eyes.
"There's an attic? Wait…Kíli?" Ori voiced, turning to face Fíli head on.
"Mmmhmm," the blond smiled and scratched the side of his neck, and then he moved towards one of the walls to continue hanging up more of the paintings. Ori skipped after him hurriedly, his mouth slightly agape.
"The…ghost?" Ori whispered, standing stiffly at his friend's side.
"Yeah," Fíli answered, laughing at the shocked expression directed his way. Fíli gestured to the left, and Ori's eyes followed the movement in a trance.
"That's him! It's a self-portrait. Really good actually, though he looks a bit paler and thinner in ghost form," Fíli admitted, and then he turned and bent down to shuffle through his toolbox for nails.
"Oh…oh my god Fíli," Ori stuttered, and he began walking along the outskirts of the room, looking at the paintings that were hanging as well as the ones still propped up on the floor. Fíli hammered in a few nails, working his way along the wall, stopping to hold up the canvases occasionally so he could properly place them.
"Wow…are these…all his?" Ori asked, bending low to take in some of the details.
"Yeah. I thought they should be up, you know, since it's his house," Fíli mentioned as he tilted a canvas slightly from side to side. Ori stared at him for a moment, visibly disturbed by the comment, and then he stood and crossed his arms in front of his body.
"It's…not his house. It's your house Fíli," Ori said, his mouth set in a stern line. Fíli glanced at him briefly, taking another moment to get the painting balanced just right, before standing back to study it.
"I can feel you glaring at me, don't give me that look," Fíli muttered, avoiding his friend's gaze.
"You're getting attached to him," Ori accused, and Fíli flushed and lifted his hands in defense.
"I-I am not, we're just…I'm just doing what you told me to do," he spat out, gesturing wildly with his arms.
"I'm getting to know him, learning about him, trying to figure things out! I've even been reading his mother's journal. There are a lot of entries…but hopefully it'll clarify some things," Fíli said, his face brightening as he tried to explain himself.
"Oh Fíli," Ori muttered, his head shaking slightly as his eyebrows scrunched together.
"I didn't think you were going to…," the smaller man trailed off, and Fíli glared at him impatiently.
"What!?" Fíli demanded but Ori merely sighed and tilted his head to the side. There was pity visible in his eyes and Fíli swallowed nervously but stood his ground.
"Don't…don't say anything," Fíli ordered, holding out a finger to point at his friend threateningly. Ori just kept staring at him with saddened eyes.
"What's it matter, I like him, I like spending time with him," Fíli rambled. He returned to his task, bending to lift another painting from the ground, but no matter how hard he tried it wouldn't hang straight on the wall. He ended up leaving it crooked and moving on to the next.
"It's not healthy Fíli. He's not….real," Ori spoke softly, watching him from several feet away.
"What so now you think I'm making it all up?" Fíli accused, and he sifted through his toolbox again for no other reason than to keep himself occupied.
"That's not what I meant!" Ori shouted. He rarely raised his voice, and it shocked Fíli so much that the blond halted and looked towards him. The smaller man was clearly frustrated, and he even growled and gripped his messy hair in irritation.
"He's not…physical. He's not part of this world. And…well. I haven't seen him. Only you have. What if it…is just in your head?" A heavy silence hung between them and Fíli stood and gaped at him for a moment, his jaw stiffening as he grew steadily angrier.
"You're the one that believes in all this shit in the first place!" Fíli spat, and he kicked his toolbox to the side, knocking several things out onto the floor. Fíli heaved for a moment, and Ori stared at him blankly before lowering his eyes to the hardwood floor.
"I'm sorry," Ori voiced, a hand rubbing over his brow as he calmed.
"No…I'm sorry," Fíli said, already regretting the way he'd reacted.
"I just don't want you to get hurt," the words were quiet, and heartfelt, and Fíli felt his eyes burning slightly as they filled with moisture. Ori was a good friend, a loyal friend, without fault.
"I know. I know you don't. But I want to help him. I have to."
February 24th, 1914
Dear Diary,
I walked downstairs this morning and thought I had gone mad. The paintings are all covered, some of them are even missing. There was a beautiful landscape, with such vivid colours. It's disappeared. As have the paintings of our picnics in the park. I remember a scene, clear as day, with geese and stormy skies, but it is nowhere to be found.
Kíli's portrait is gone as well.
I…I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do.
Discordia
Over the next few weeks Fíli developed a bit of a routine. He'd wake up around noon, spend a few hours working around the house before taking a break to read an entry or two from the journal. After dinner, he'd work some more, and then take a nap in the late evening, making sure to wake up again no later than midnight. His night-time hours were always spent with Kíli, following him around the house, keeping him company and watching him attempt to act out various things from classic plays to ridiculously comedic stories. They were hard to interpret sometimes, but Fíli enjoyed every moment of them regardless, and he was glad to be able to contribute in some way to the smile on the ghost's face. Their nights together usually ended with Fíli reading a chapter or two from Treasure Island, until one or both of them fell asleep or the sun began to rise in the morning.
Fíli woke to the sound of his alarm, and he hurried out of bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before downing a full glass of water. He was still a bit sleepy, but it was already midnight, and he didn't want to miss out on the valuable time he had to spend with his new friend. Fíli strolled down the stairs, figuring Kíli would find him soon enough, but he paused on the steps at the sound of music echoing through the lower hall. He frowned and followed the lively melody through the house, finding his way to the large living area with ease. Kíli was sitting on the bench in front of the pianola, bobbing his head back and forth with the tune, and Fíli approached curiously, smiling as he sat down beside him.
"You weren't playing?" Fíli asked, watching the keys move on the instrument by themselves. It was mesmerizing, if not a bit creepy, but he already had a ghost sitting next to him so there was little to be afraid of. Kíli pointed towards the pedals below, and when they stopped moving suddenly, the music stopped as well. Kíli's image faded a bit, and Fíli took his place, letting his feet pump the pedals in a steady pace so that Kíli could rest for a while. The notes quickened slightly, the music became even more exciting, and Fíli found himself tapping his hand along to the beat. It was a bit much, for everyday listening, a little too fast to really enjoy for much longer than a few minutes at a time, but as it came to an end Fíli found himself missing the sound and he was tempted to try and start it up again.
Kíli reached across in front of him before he had the chance, pointing to a little cabinet on the left of the pianola, and Fíli opened it to find several labelled boxes. They were music rolls, each one designed to play a specific song or set of songs, and Fíli searched through them with interest. He wasn't very well versed in classical music, but there were a few names he recognized. Kíli appeared above him, pointing at a specific box, and Fíli pulled it from the collection.
"You want to listen to this one?" he asked, and received an excited nod. Kíli swirled around him eagerly, and Fíli laughed as he dusted off the box and read the title.
Claire de Lune
by
Claude Debussy
Fíli stared at it for a moment before opening the box and sliding the roll out with care. It was old, browning, and felt very fragile to the touch. Fíli wasn't really sure what to do with it, and he followed Kíli's lead, taking time to study the roll already set up, before doing his best to replace it with the other. He fumbled a few things, but managed to get things in place, or what he thought was in place, and he sat back and started pedalling once more.
Fíli recognized the song almost immediately, and he smiled softly as the soothing melody echoed around them. It was truly beautiful music. He could have happily listened to it for days on end, and when he looked towards his companion he felt the air leave his lungs. Kíli was visibly overwhelmed, his eyes far away as he swayed with the music solemnly. His brow scrunched together, and Fíli could not look away from the sight. He pedalled right to the end of the song, and only stopped after the notes dwindled away completely. Kíli turned towards him, reaching out with a hand and Fíli did the same, their fingers twisting through one another but not touching at all. Fíli pretended to squeeze the ghost's hand, his expression sincere, and he turned back to the pianola, switching it to rewind before pedalling the roll back to the start.
Kíli leaned over once it was done, silently asking Fíli to stand, and the two of them moved to the centre of the room. Kíli focused, and Fíli widened his eyes as the music began to play again, a bit slower and softer than before. The ghost flickered slightly, but stayed visible enough that Fíli was able to see his face and arms, and they circled each other, looking intently into one another's eyes. Hands grazed together, and the two began dancing along with the music. Fíli could feel the cold seeping into his shoulder and hands as Kíli moved closer, tucking his head in the crook of the blond's neck, but it didn't bother him at all. He stared at the ghost's jawline, his gaze following the line of Kíli's pale neck and shoulder, and Fíli pretended for a moment that he could feel the gentle embrace along his body.
Even as the music stopped they kept dancing, making their way around the room together in silence. When the sun came up it was unexpected, and Fíli was shocked as Kíli began to fade from sight, saddened eyes meeting his own for a brief moment. Fíli's heart ached, and he held out his hand, but there was no one there to meet it.
February 27th, 1914
Dear Diary,
I have a terrible feeling in my gut. I know something is wrong, I know…I know something has happened to Kíli. He's been gone far too long. There's no sign of him left in the house.
My husband thinks nothing of it. He says I'm mad. He says…we never had a son.
I can't have made this all up! What of the sweet memories I have of a little boy laughing as he made snow angels in the middle of winter? I can see it clear as day, the first time he walked, the first time he laughed! The first time he painted. But even as I write this…I find it difficult to remember his face. The exact colour of his eyes is a mystery to me, and the way he looked when he smiled, I can't quite picture it.
Vílidan cannot be right, and yet…
I'm afraid I'm starting to believe him.
Discordia
Thunder crashed outside, so loud that it shook the windows of the old Victorian home. Fíli jolted awake at the sound, his heart beating a mile a minute, and he breathed in deep a few times after realizing it was just a storm. There were faint rumbles followed by several louder bangs, and Fíli rubbed at his eyes and shifted onto his side. He gasped faintly when he saw Kíli floating at his side, body curled up into a ball as he trembled and looked towards him in fear. Another bang had the ghost squeezing his eyes shut and ducking his head, and Fíli grunted as he shifted to better accommodate him on the mattress. Kíli could have shifted right through his body, but the ghost tended to avoid doing such things. It only served as a reminder that he wasn't exactly…alive.
Kíli immediately squirmed closer, snuggling into Fíli's chest the best he could, and the blond winced slightly as his body became increasingly colder. Another crash came, and the ghost hid his face behind two pale arms, while Fíli reached out his hand to try and soothe him. His fingers brushed against where hair might have been, sliding into the spectral forms around Kíli's body. He frowned, wishing he could wrap an arm around the spirit's body, but his only option was to let his arm hover awkwardly above him. It was straining on his muscles after only a minute or two, and he had to pull it back to let his biceps rest.
"It's okay, it's just a storm, it'll pass," Fíli reassured him, but Kíli just shook his head and continued to tremble. The blond watched him sadly for a while, letting his fingers linger at the side of the ghost's face, trailing up the ridge of his jaw towards his ear. Fíli wondered if the skin would be soft, had he been able to feel it, and his mouth pursed tightly as he longed for just a single moment during which they might be able to touch. Fíli pulled away, propping himself against the wall as he looked down on Kíli's shaking form. He wondered how many times the ghost had suffered alone during the roaring storms that often passed overhead.
"I could read to you again…," Fíli suggested, watching as the ghost peeked out from over his hands with pleading eyes. The blond smiled softly and reached over the edge of the air mattress to grab Treasure Island. They were nearing the end, and he flipped through the pages, searching for the little scrap he was using as a bookmark. Fíli cleared his throat, shifting his legs into a more comfortable position, and he began reading the passage loud and clear.
It was broad day when I awoke and found myself tossing at the south-west end of Treasure Island. The sun was up but was still hid from me behind the great bulk of the Spy-glass, which on this side descended almost to the sea in formidable cliffs…
The thunder continued to rumble, but Fíli persisted, not even pausing when the ghost startled every now and then at his side. The blond's voice eventually drowned out the fading booms, the storm moving across the sky and fading into the distance, and when he glanced towards Kíli the ghost was watching him with devoted eyes. He could have read to him like that forever, if not for his rumbling stomach, and the ever-looming sunrise to come.
March 2nd, 1914
Dear Diary,
There is a strange smell wafting through the house. It is…unpleasant, like…flesh, burning from a bone. I find it nauseating, I've lost my appetite, and I can think of nothing else.
I'm afraid to follow it.
There is something lurking behind the walls, I hear the creaking in the house at night, and I see shadows in the hallways. Someone or something is watching me.
I am being haunted, and I fear I know by whom.
Sometimes I sit in bed, holding my legs close to my chest, and I try to pretend everything is alright. If I do not look, it isn't real. If I do not see, I needn't admit the truth.
But I know…deep down I know, just what that smell is, and just where it comes from.
Please, help me.
Discordia
On one evening, Fíli was making popcorn in his newly acquired microwave when Kíli approached, hovering just outside the entrance to the kitchen. The blond turned to him, frowning at the unsure expression on the ghost's face. Kíli appeared nervous, playing with his fingers slightly as he looked Fíli up and down intently. The microwave beeped, and Fíli hurried to dump out his popped kernels into a bowl, and a moment later he was at the ghost's side, glancing into tentative eyes.
"What's up?" Fíli asked, and the ghost lowered his chin briefly before making a familiar hand gesture, which he knew was a request for him to follow. After so many nights spent at Kíli's side, the blond had figured out what the spirit was thinking most of the time, just from the subtle movements in his body language. Fíli nodded in understanding, tucking the bowl against his side as he followed the ghost through the main level and out the front door. Fíli nibbled on the popcorn, staying close to the misty figure as he moved around the exterior of the home.
It was dark and cloudy, not a single star visible above, and the air had a bit of a crispness to it that made Fíli wish he'd put on a jacket. He shrugged his shoulders against the cool air, crunching on his snack, pausing with a mouthful of kernels as Kíli stopped. The brunet stared at a cluster of bushes, and Fíli looked between them and the ghost, his chewing slowing as Kíli tucked his hands close to his chest and observed him warily. Fíli set down the bowl, wiping the grease and crumbs off on his pants as he cleared his throat.
"What's wrong? Why'd you bring me out here?" Fíli asked in concern, and he reached out towards the ghost's ear, holding his hand just at the side of his face. Kíli's eyes locked with his, and after a few moments the ghost turned and pointed at the bushes lining the side of the house. Fíli narrowed his eyes, but leaned down to push some of the branches away, and he froze when they parted to reveal a set of cracked wooden doors tilted towards the ground. He gaped at them blankly before hurrying to shove the bushes aside. Kíli backed away slightly, while Fíli worked to open the doors, struggling against the heavily rusted hinges. He grunted loudly as one of them fell back with a bang, and then wiped off his hands before peering into the opening.
"Well this is more than a bit creepy," Fíli muttered as he looked over his shoulder at the ghost. Kíli floated a fair distance back still wringing his fingers together like he was afraid to go on, but he nodded towards the open door and gave the blond a pointed look.
"Don't tell me you want me to go in there?" Fíli asked, his mouth closing tightly when the ghost did little more than frown at him seriously. Fíli glanced back into the dark cavern, wishing he had his flashlight handy. He took a deep breath and shook his head, then began climbing down the ladder despite the warning bells going off in his head. Ori would have killed him, but Fíli trusted Kíli, he knew the ghost wouldn't wish him harm.
"You owe me for this," Fíli mumbled as he lowered himself into the underground room. His feet connected with solid ground not long after, and he looked up at the open door towards the ghost peeking over the edge.
"Not coming?" Fíli asked, and Kíli shook his head, slinking away from the door.
"Come on, I can't see anything without you down here," Fíli coaxed. He glanced back into the room, but could barely see a foot in front of himself with only the faint light of the moon aiding his vision. When he looked back up the ghost was gone, but Kíli surprised him by appearing from beneath the ground at his side. The ghost huddled close, clearly uncomfortable in the confined space, but Fíli smiled at him and pretended to link their arms, easing the ghost's nerves in a matter of seconds.
It was still incredibly dark, but Kíli's ghostly aura provided enough light that Fíli was able to make out some of their surroundings. It looked like some kind of cellar. There was a short wooden table, several rickety shelves, and an ancient furnace with piping that Fíli assumed led up into the house. It clearly wasn't operational, as several of the pipes hung loose or possessed rusted out holes.
Fíli stepped into the space, his feet scraping against the sandy floor, and he startled when his shoe scuffed over something solid. He bent down, dragging his fingers across the ground with a grimace, and lifted the object in his hands to inspect it. It was a necklace, though the details were hard to make out in the poor lighting. Fíli tucked it into his pocket and continued searching, squinting in the darkness. There were papers strewn about, and after shifting several around with his feet Fíli realized they were photographs. He walked over them slowly, Kíli lingering at his back. They were unsettling, the way so many were partially destroyed, almost like someone had tried to burn them.
Fíli lifted his gaze towards the furnace, and then he approached it, reaching out to touch the intricate designs welded to the surface. It was beautiful, in a creepy, uniquely Victorian sort of way. He couldn't resist turning the crank, and it screeched loudly as Fíli twisted it in a circle. The door opened with a loud click, revealing little more than dust and ash inside. Fíli frowned at it. A part of him had been expecting some sort of secret, a buried treasure of sorts, but there was nothing other than a stale odour that had him covering his nose in disgust.
And then the room turned absolutely icy. Fíli wrenched his hand back in surprise as the metal frosted over, leaving his fingertips red and throbbing from the sudden change in temperature. He shivered, hunching into himself as his breathing became visible on the chilled air. The cellar began to shake, dirt falling from above. Fíli turned towards Kíli with widened eyes, but the brunet had fallen back, crumpling in on himself as he huddled in a ball near the ladder. It looked like he was screaming, but not a sound came from his lips, and Fíli stumbled to his feet and ran quickly to his side.
"Kíli!" Fíli shouted, kneeling in front of him and trying to get a better view of his face.
"Kíli it's okay!" Fíli reached out, trying to grip his arms, but the blond's fingers sank right through the transparent form. The room rumbled around them, and Fíli was terrified that he would be buried alive beneath a pile of rubble.
"Please, Kíli!" Fíli cried, trying desperately to gain the ghost's attention, but he could do little more than sit and watch as Kíli suffered. He braced himself against the ladder, holding onto the quaking rungs, his arms wrapped around the ghost's head, and he whispered comforting words into the brunet's ear with the hope that it might help him settle. He wasn't sure how much time had passed when Kíli jolted and looked into his eyes, but he was there, waiting, watching, and freezing his ass off. His teeth chattered as he gazed into the ghost's worried irises, and Fíli grinned at the spirit and leaned forwards slightly so that their noses nearly touched. He was relieved, but Kíli looked scandalized. It was clear the ghost had not intended to cause him any pain.
"It's alright, I'm fine, promise," Fíli said, leaning close to the brunet's ear. He wished there was more he could do to comfort him, to reassure him. A hug, a brush of hands, anything. He craved the ghost's touch, wanted to hold him and kiss him, embrace him through the night. He wanted to be able to warm him, to wipe his tears away when he was sad. But all he could do was offer a few words here and there, and hope it was enough.
"Let's get out of here, okay?" Fíli whispered. Kíli nodded frantically and floated back above ground. Fíli wasted little time, hurrying to climb back up the ladder, thankful that the door remained open and the ceiling intact. He hesitated a moment at the top, glancing down into the strange room before closing the door and covering it back up with the foliage. He would not be revisiting the cellar any time in the near future.
March 5th, 1914
Dear Diary,
My husband has betrayed me! I know it…I know it. There are signs. I found photographs, burned and scattered, clothing, torn and bloodied. And the smell. The smell was horrendous, so awful I could scarcely bare it. There were strange stains on the wall, ash scattered across the ground. I can only imagine where it's come from. I was sickened by the sight! I barely made it out before I was forced to the ground as my stomach gave in.
My sweet, innocent Kíli!
He did not deserve this. No one deserves this. But especially not my little boy!
His ghost…it haunts me. He hates me. He follows me. He asks me questions. Why? Why did you let me die mama? Why did he kill me? Why?
I don't have the answer.
What am I to do when Vílidan returns home from work? Must I pretend I do not know what despicable acts he has committed? A part of me wants to. A part of me wants to deny it all. Surely he could not have hurt Kíli in such a way…surely not. It's all in my head! All of it! It must be…or else, how am I to go on living?
Discordia
The last few entries in the journal left a stale taste in Fíli's mouth. He had already known that Kíli was not a murderer, there was just no way. But that he'd been murdered, and by his own father. That was…a more disturbing reality than he thought possible. Fíli walked beside Kíli outside the house, the journal clutched loosely between his fingers. It was a warm night, and the few times the brunet brushed up against him Fíli almost enjoyed the cool feeling that washed over his skin. The ghost looked happy, his episode from the night prior completely forgotten, and Fíli didn't want to bring up what he'd read, but there was no sense in putting it off.
"I finished the journal," Fíli said, and the ghost stopped floating, instead hovering in place a few paces back. When Fíli turned to look at him Kíli's face had fallen.
"That's why…the cellar…, and the storm," Fíli whispered, but he stopped when the ghost shuddered and looked away.
"I'm sorry," Fíli voiced, lowering his head solemnly. He clenched the journal tightly in his fingers and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. There was nothing he could do. Kíli was a ghost, dead long ago. He couldn't turn back time and prevent the murder, and going to the police with the information would do little good, they'd just think him insane. Besides, there was no point in solving a century old mystery with no survivors left to witness it. He'd only managed to dig up unpleasant memories, and remind Kíli of his horrifying past.
Two pale hands entered his line of vision, settling just over the journal and Fíli looked up into the ghost's dark searching eyes. Kíli was clearly still troubled by his death, but the blondS saw acceptance in his expression as well, like the brunet had long ago come to terms with the fact that he was dead. He wasn't looking to be released from his memories, or to have his name cleared in history, he'd been searching for something else entirely. A person to share his story with.
Fíli knew, someone knew that Kíli was innocent, and perhaps that's what the ghost had wanted all along. Someone to understand. A friend. That meant more to the brunet than anything else ever would.
Fíli smiled at him, letting his free hand lower to hover just over one of Kíli's and then the blond lowered the journal slightly so he could fit his fingers beneath the ghost's palm. He raised his hand slowly, and Kíli's rose along with it. Fíli could almost pretend that they were holding hands, that he could feel the slender fingers curling over his own.
"Shall we keep walking?" Fíli said, and Kíli grinned at him and nodded, glancing to the side pensively before turning to move away. Fíli followed leisurely, tucking the journal away in his pocket. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined befriending a ghost. The brunet floated over the grass his feet tiptoeing dramatically while Fíli snickered behind him. They moved to the edge of the property, stopping just before the tree line that led into the nearby forest, and Kíli crouched down near the ground and wrapped his arms around his knees. He pointed at the ground towards a cluster of overgrown weeds and crabgrass, and Fíli knelt beside him, pushing the grass aside. His fingers brushed against something solid, and Fíli realized there were plaques hidden beneath the greenery. He bent low enough to read them, barely able to make out the aging stone.
"Your mother?" Fíli voiced in surprise, eyeing Kíli for a moment before hurrying to read the one beside it.
"And…father," he uttered. Fíli sat back on his legs, watching as Kíli looked towards the gravestones with fond eyes.
"You don't hate him?" the blond asked, genuinely surprised that Kíli seemed to lack any sort of resentment towards the man that murdered him. The ghost opened his mouth but closed it soon after, shaking his head with a soft smile.
"Where's yours?" Fíli asked, noticing that there were no more plaques nearby. He cringed slightly at the insensitivity of the question but Kíli didn't look angry or upset. The ghost just raised an arm and pointed towards the forest with a pout. Fíli stood up and walked towards the trees, but it was way too dark for him to see much of anything between the clusters of branches. He was hesitant to step into the woods, without any idea of where to go.
"Can you show me?" Fíli questioned, but Kíli shook his head. The ghost floated to his side, looking out towards the forest longingly. He held his hands up, but they fizzled away into nothing as he breached the edge of the property. Kíli backed away quickly, drawing his hands to his chest as they slowly reappeared, and Fíli was at his side in an instant, checking him over with wide eyes.
"Are you okay?" he gasped and Kíli nodded as the blond fretted over him. Fíli startled as the ghost lifted his head quickly, gazing into his eyes with a playful expression. He had been expecting sorrow, or pain, but Kíli didn't seem bothered at all. Or he was very good at hiding it. Still Fíli could not help but smile at the goofy expression on the brunet's face, and he relaxed slightly at the sight.
They began walking back towards the house, and Fíli found himself watching the ghost's feet as they touched lightly atop the grass, leaving no evidence of ever having been there at all. When he looked up Kíli was staring at him, and Fíli let out an awkward laugh and turned away, stopping to stare up at the moon. A moment later and Kíli was incredibly close, his nose just a short breadth away from Fíli's, and the blond breathed in quickly, startled by the sudden appearance. The ghost ogled him, his eyes narrowing as he studied Fíli's face, and then he was slinking even nearer until their bodies were aligned. Fíli's breath hitched, and he swallowed nervously as Kíli's mouth hovered aside his own. Fíli felt a faint brush against his lips, a flash of cool air, and it left him with a stuttering heart and a desire for so much more. The ghost pulled away from him a second later, looking bashful and decidedly happy.
Fíli blinked several times and raised his fingers to touch the tingling flesh, gazing at the brunet thoughtfully. The cold press against his lips had happened so fast Fíli wasn't even sure if it had happened at all. Could such a thing even be considered a kiss? In reality, they hadn't touched at all, but there was something there, he was sure he had sensed it, and it was enough to make him feel like he was walking on clouds. Fíli grinned at Kíli stupidly, his heart pounding away as he took in the ghost's lowered eyelashes and slightly darkened cheeks.
It wasn't possible for them to be together, not really. And he shouldn't have allowed himself to fall so hard, but it was far too late for such thoughts. He was in deep, and there was no going back.
March 10th, 1914
Dear Diary,
The people in the town are whispering. They visit and ask of Kíli, how he is, and I don't know how to answer. Vílidan looks at me with frightful eyes, threatening. He lies. He says our son is ill. Bedridden. And then when we are alone he acts as though nothing is amiss. When I ask questions he throws me down and shakes me until I concede.
I fear he'll kill me too. I feel trapped.
There is nothing left of the man I fell in love with. There is nothing left of Kíli's father. A part of me is glad. I know that Vílidan is not responsible for our child's death, not really. It is whatever disease has taken over his mind. I must free us, both of us, from this curse.
Regretfully,
Discordia
Fíli straddled a wooden chair, slouching over the back of it as he gazed longingly at Kíli's portrait hanging on the wall. The necklace he found in the cellar hung limply from his fingers, dangling slowly back and forth like the pendulum of a clock. He hadn't realized immediately, but eventually made the connection. It was Kíli's necklace, the very same one he wore in his self-portrait. The gemstones had faded over time, the silver tarnished in places, but it was clearly the one. It made him wonder about the cellar, and the way Kíli had reacted. Had he been killed in that very room? In the dark beneath his own home?
Fíli tugged the chain up and grasped the locket in his palm, rubbing his thumb across the surface gently. He wanted to give it back to Kíli, to put it around his neck where it belonged, but it was impossible. Just like so many of the other things he'd never be able to do for the ghost.
"I don't think he can leave the property," Fíli said, turning his head to look at Ori. The smaller man sat propped against the wall, his legs pulled up to his chest. He was watching Fíli with saddened eyes, clearly worried about his wellbeing.
"I want to find his remains," Fíli whispered, slouching low over the back of the chair so he could rest his face against his arms.
"Fíli that's…nearly impossible," Ori spoke, his voice soft and full of concern. He sat up with a sigh, letting his legs drop to the ground in front of him.
"It would take forever, searching through the forest. You don't have a single idea where they might be. And besides, it's been years! They could be gone!" He explained, trying to reason with Fíli. The last thing he wanted was for his friend to get overeager, only to be let down in the end. Fíli frowned and clenched his fingers around the necklace.
"I know. But…I'm sure it's the only way to help him. To free him. If he could just show us…," Fíli trailed off.
"How can he communicate with us if he can't even talk? You're into this ghost stuff aren't you? You must know some way," Fíli asked, his eyes looking towards Ori desperately. His friend scrunched his eyebrows together and nibbled at his lip.
"It's a bit of a long shot…but we could try my Ouija board," Ori suggested, shrugging his shoulders when Fíli sat up and looked at him like he was a complete fool.
"That thing we used to ask about crushes in grade school?" Fíli muttered, raising an eyebrow at his friend.
"Got any better ideas?" Ori asked, holding his hands out in front of him in waiting. Fíli shifted atop the chair, looking away for a moment as he shook his head.
"You…think that could actually work?" Fíli wondered.
"Maybe. You said it's difficult for him to interact with objects in this world. But if it's designed for him to…it might be easier," Ori tilted his head to the side as Fíli looked down at him seriously. He didn't have a whole lot of other options.
Seven hours later the two sat across from one another, the Ouija board settled between them. Ori had set the room up, just like he used to when they tried to commune with spirits at the age of ten, though admittedly with a bit more finesse. A circle of candles surrounded them, all lit, the flames flickering. The curtains were drawn, and their hands lay side by side atop the pointer as they waited for Kíli to show. It was late, and the sun had set several hours prior.
Fíli wasn't sure if the ghost would appear with Ori there, but they had to try, and he couldn't do this alone. The Ouija board required at least two people present to work, or so Ori claimed. They sat in silence, the wind occasionally blowing against the window panes, and Fíli stretched out his toes as they began to go numb. Ori was drifting, his head slumping forward as his lids became heavier, but he kept yawning and stretching out his back in an attempt to stay awake. Their fingers tapped idly against the pointer. Fíli sighed, feeling his eyelids getting progressively lower, but he blinked and looked up when an additional set of hands settled beside his.
"Ori," Fíli muttered, giving his friend a sidelong glance. The smaller man's head was slouched, his mouth open wide as he snored lightly.
"Ori!" Fíli shouted, and the scruffy blond jolted and looked towards him in surprise.
"He's…he's touching it," Fíli spoke, watching as Ori blinked his eyes rapidly and looked down towards the board.
"He's…he's here?" Ori whispered, and suddenly the pointer shifted, moving towards the letters on the board. The candles flickered, the flames leaning in the direction of the ghost, as Kíli focused on the board. Ori and Fíli both helped it move along, pausing at one letter before moving on to the next.
H…E...L…L…O
Ori swallowed as the word finished, looking Fíli in the eyes before searching their surroundings intently.
"Where is he?" he asked, clearly still doubting Kíli's existence on some level.
"To your right, you can't see him?" Fíli questioned, peering at Kíli with a frown. Ori was looking directly at the brunet, but shook his head, his eyes searching the area blankly. Fíli didn't understand. Kíli was so clear, so obviously there. It was impossible he was making him up. The brunet smiled at Fíli, nodding towards to Ouija board as he knelt over it, and the blond opened his mouth and grinned in understanding.
"Take your hands off it," Fíli spoke, and Ori raised an eyebrow but did as told. The two of them sat with their hands in their laps, candlelight flickering across their faces. And then the pointer moved again, gliding slowly across the board to spell something out. Fíli smiled as he watched Kíli move it, but Ori gasped, his eyes widening as he took in the incredible sight. To him, it looked as though it was moving on its own, sliding over the Ouija board without any aid at all.
I…M….K…I…L…I
"O-oh my god, oh my god he's actually here," Ori stuttered, his body shaking slightly as he swallowed and leaned closer to the board. His eyes shifted to his right, still frantically searching the empty space beside him, and Fíli snickered lightly at his friend's stunned expression. Ori reached out a hand, and Kíli held one of his own against it, watching as the smaller man's face twisted in confusion.
"It's…the air's cold," he muttered, pulling his hand back as he looked towards Fíli in shock. It took a moment for Ori to calm down, but when he did he cleared his throat and readjusted his legs.
"Okay. Let's…let's start with a simple question," Ori suggested. He glanced quickly to the side, even though he couldn't see the ghost, before placing his fingers back on the pointer. Fíli followed suit.
"What year were you born?" Ori asked, and again the pointer moved, though much quicker and smoother with the help of additional hands.
1897
Ori looked towards Fíli for confirmation, and the blond nodded quickly, some stray hairs falling into his eyes. He looked impatient, his eyes intense, and Ori decided it was best to move on to more serious questions.
"Are you…stuck here, in this house?" Ori wondered, and the pointer immediately moved again.
Yes
"Are you in pain?" Ori spoke softly, his eyes glued to the board, and he frowned at the answer.
Yes
Tired
Kíli pulled away from the pointer then, lowering his head slightly, and a moment later he looked into Fíli's eyes. The blond watched him raise his hands to his chest, tapping against himself with a pleading expression.
"His heart hurts," Fíli explained. The blond's eyes watered, and he blinked the brewing tears away. Fíli reached out towards the brunet, settling his hand over the ghost's chest in support, while Ori looked on in concern. It was clear the Fíli was more than attached. Ori had never seen his friend look at another person with such devotion before. He was worried about Fíli, about what would happen to him if they managed to actually free the ghost. He'd never see Kíli again, and Ori didn't want his friend to end up stuck in an endless state of depression, longing for someone he could never be with. But it was too late, Fíli was clearly already in love.
"We want to help you Kíli. We want to set you free, but we don't know where to look," Ori spoke regretfully.
"Do you know where…you were you buried? Can you describe it?" Ori asked, still staring at the board determinedly. Kíli didn't answer immediately, instead gazing at Fíli with saddened eyes. But eventually he moved back into position, his hands settling atop the pointer.
Yes
East
At the fork
Beneath the willow
Fíli stared wide-eyed at the board as the pointer stopped moving, and he mouthed the words to himself over and over. He frowned at them, turning towards Kíli with confused eyes, but the ghost was already gone. The blond gaped at the empty space beside him, and he sighed heavily.
"He's gone," Fíli drawled. Ori rubbed his hands against his knees, surprised at how cold they felt. The room was chilled as well, and his body incredibly tense. His palms were sweaty despite the cool temperature, and he wiped them against his pants with shaky arms. Ori hadn't expected to ever have a real encounter with a ghost. He'd watched hundreds of programs, read even more books, but all of it had seemed so otherworldly. The real experience was…odd, to say the least.
They began blowing out the candles, before one of them had a chance to accidentally set the room on fire, and once everything was packed away Fíli grabbed his jacket and walked towards the front door.
"What are you doing?" Ori asked, though he was sure he already knew the answer. Fíli had not stopped whispering the ghost's directions for a moment since he heard them. Even still he mouthed them under his breath.
"Going to look," Fíli said, sliding his arms through the sleeves and tugging his collar up around his neck.
"Fíli, let's be sensible about this," Ori voiced, hurrying to his friend's side and grabbing hold of his elbow.
"Venturing into the woods at night beside a haunted house is crazy even by my standards! There are wolves, coyotes, real dangers," he pressed. Fíli tried to shake him off, his gaze focused on the door, but Ori held him back with surprising strength.
"I know you're eager. I know you want to help. But we can look in the morning. Kíli wouldn't want you getting hurt for his sake," Ori added, and the words were enough to settle his friend.
"You're right, of course you're right." Fíli slouched and fell back against the wall, rubbing at his face with his hands. He looked worn, his eyes bloodshot, his hair a mess. Ori's heart ached for him. He knew there was little he could do to help, after all, he hadn't the faintest idea what it felt like to fall in love with a ghost. But he could make sure his friend at least got a good night's sleep and a healthy breakfast the following day. Ori dragged the other man to bed, tucking him in before grabbing himself a midnight snack. He settled in a chair, looking out the windows on the East side of the home while Fíli snored lightly, his legs sprawled beneath the blankets. Ori knew that even with Kíli's guiding words, finding century old remains buried in the ground was a long shot. Even if they found the right willow, ground shifted over time, things corroded and deteriorated. But hopefully, with a little bit of luck, they'd find him and bring him home.
March 15th, 1914
Dear Diary,
I killed him, I killed my Vílidan.
My hands shake as I write this. How can I possibly go on living? I have lost everything. And my darling boy, nothing can ever bring him back to me.
Vílidan would not tell me where his bones lie, but I know he is to blame, he confessed as much! He begged me for forgiveness, begged me to kill him and put his soul to rest. I cannot mourn him; I cannot bring myself to bury him. Not while Kíli is out there somewhere, mangled and alone.
I hear his screams. They follow me through the house, begging me to save him. But it's far too late.
How can I save him when I cannot even save myself?
Discordia
Fíli and Ori set out early the following morning, shovels in hand. They walked through the forest carefully, heading in the direction of the river to the East, unsure what to expect. A part of Fíli knew it was likely they would find nothing, and he clenched his jaw as the leaves crunched beneath his feet. It didn't take them long to reach the tiny river, and Fíli looked down it in both directions, wondering where it split in two. He twirled the shovel in his hands and Ori touched his shoulder, pointing to their left, in the direction the water flowed.
They walked along the river's edge in silence, listening to the sounds of the forest. It was peaceful, but lonely, and Fíli was glad to have his friend's company. When they reached the fork in the river Fíli took in a deep breath, swallowing as he turned to search the area around them. There were hundreds of trees, but only one willow, and Fíli bit his lip and strolled towards it, circling the trunk for some kind of sign. He wished he had a better idea of where to look.
Fíli stepped over the uneven ground, avoiding the large roots sticking out from the ground. It was a massive tree, and Fíli climbed around it anxiously, his eyes scouring the ground. And then he faltered, stumbling for a moment before he stepped backwards to take a second glance at the bark on the trunk. There was something etched in it, letters, and what might have once been a heart, and Fíli's eyes widened and as he breathed in quickly. He scrambled towards it, running his fingers over the faded engraving, and then he looked towards the ground below. There was enough space between the roots that something could have been buried there, and it was unlikely it would have shifted beneath the ground.
"It's here," Fíli whispered, stepping back to begin shovelling. The ground was hard, and it was difficult to edge the shovel in at first, but with a little bit of work he managed to loosen the top layer of soil. Ori eyed him for a moment, but soon approached, and the two of them worked together, lifting the dirt and throwing it off to the side. It was hard work, and a difficult position to get leverage from, and both men were sweating and exhausted after just a few minutes of effort. Ori took a breather, wiping his sweaty brow off on a sleeve, but Fíli kept digging despite the ache in his arms. He was surprised when his shovel finally came down on something solid, and Fíli edged around the object with his shovel, trying to pry it from the ground. The two of them bent down, grabbing onto exposed handles, and they tugged an ornate wooden box from the hole and slid it to the side.
It was large, and fairly heavy. Fíli brushed it off, running his fingers along the faded designs before grazing the latch at the front of the box. He was afraid to open it. Visions of maggots and worms invaded his mind, and he knew such a sight would sicken him beyond belief. But he had to be sure. His fingers lifted the lid slowly, revealing the velveteen lining, and Fíli felt his face crumple as he looked at the contents. It was filled with sand and dust, along with several pieces of bone that made Fíli's stomach curl slightly. There was a fully formed skull, and the blond brought a hand up to cover his mouth as he stared at it, the reality of it hitting him square in the face. Kíli was dead, and Fíli was staring at what was left of his body.
Fíli shook his head, closing the box gently and refastening the latch. He let his hands graze the exterior for a moment, taking in the ornate case and their surroundings in the forest. It didn't feel like the work of a madman, but instead like someone who had loved and cared for Kíli a great deal went to a lot of effort to make sure he was buried with care. And in doing so they'd trapped him in his home forever, prevented him from moving on. Fíli didn't understand how someone could murder a person, and then turn around and treat them with such obvious respect. No wonder Kíli didn't hate his father for what he'd done. He must have been a very tortured soul. They were all tortured souls.
"Fíli?" Ori spoke up, kneeling a few feet away, and Fíli looked towards him with burning eyes.
"Are…you okay?" the other man asked. Fíli frowned but nodded, taking in a few steadying breaths.
"Will you help me free him?" he murmured, the light wind beginning to sting as it blew into his eyes. Ori clenched his lips together, his throat tightening as he took in his friend's pained expression.
"Yeah…yeah of course I will."
March 17th, 1914
Dear Diary,
It's been two days. Vílidan's body still lies across the floor. It's begun to rot. I dreamt he came to life again, his large hands reaching about my neck to kill me. He does not understand why I still live while he is dead, why I still suffer, while he is free. I have not eaten, I have not slept. Yesterday there were knocks at the door, but I could not answer. I've seen Kíli, in corners, in the darkest hours of the night. He stares at me, pleadingly. He stares at his father's body, mournfully. I can do nothing for him. I am so weak.
I've heard the river is pleasant this time of year. I think I may pay it a visit tonight. The murky depths await me. I only wish I could bring my son along as well, and save him from this misery.
Discordia
Fíli watched the horizon line warily. The sun was just beginning to set, leaving an ominous red colour across the sky. He sat next to Ori on the grass, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket to keep them warm. His fingers fiddled with the chain of Kíli's necklace, entangling the links around his hand to try and keep his mind focused on something else, but it did little good.
They'd dug a hole, just next to the graves of Kíli's parents, and the box with his remains sat only a few feet away. The blond occasionally glanced towards it, though he found it difficult to look at for more than a few seconds. It made him think of Kíli, think of everything he'd gone through and was forced to endure, even after death. It made him think of his long silky hair and emotive eyes, the way his lips rose when he smiled. It made him think of a touch that wasn't quite there, and a ghost of something cool against his lips. In truth, Fíli wasn't quite ready to say goodbye.
"It's a simple séance. We bury the remains, recite the chosen passage to help guide the spirit to the afterlife. If he's at peace, he'll leave, and if not, just…try to comfort him until he is," Ori explained as the sky darkened around them. Fíli swallowed nervously and turned to look at his friend with frightened eyes.
"What will happen to him, if…if it works?" he asked, his fingers clenching and unclenching in his pockets. He was pretty sure he already knew the answer.
"He'll…pass on, his spirit will finally rest," Ori said.
"He'll disappear," Fíli confirmed, his voice flat and emotionless.
"Yeah." The word was barely audible, but Fíli had been expecting it and heard it loud and clear. He lowered his head, looking towards the ground between his legs. It took every ounce of his will to hold his emotions together. Ori nudged him lightly in the side with his elbow, and Fíli glared at him, but smiled faintly when he saw the understanding look in his friend's eyes.
The last sliver of the sun lowered beyond the horizon line, and they watched the stars begin to appear as the air cooled. Fíli was aware of the ghost the moment he showed. It was the fastest Kíli had ever arrived at night. The brunet looked strange, visibly unnerved. He hung back, standing near the old house, looking towards Fíli hesitantly. He clearly knew something was different, and his irises shifted to where the wooden box sat atop the lawn. The ghost inched away slightly, frightened by the sight, and he looked towards Fíli in surprise.
"Don't be afraid," Fíli voiced as he stood to approach Kíli. The blond walked towards him slowly, holding out his hand for the ghost to take. Kíli stared at him apprehensively, his eyes constantly flicking towards the box and back, and he finally reached out, letting his pale fingers settle over Fíli's. The two walked side by side, towards the grave to be, and when they stopped beside it Kíli flickered slightly and inched closer to the blond's side.
"You know what this is?" Fíli asked, watching as Kíli nodded quickly. The ghost's eyes were wide as they looked towards the ground, and Fíli wished he could hold him close and tell him everything would be fine.
"Will you let us help you? We're going to free you, it won't hurt, promise," Fíli reassured him, and Kíli gazed at him sadly. The brunet tapped his chest lightly, then pressed his hand over Fíli's heart. The blond let out a pained sound at the action, but smiled regardless, lifting his own hand to hover near the ghost's chest.
"Me too," Fíli whispered. Kíli's nostrils flared, and he pulled his hand away quickly. Fíli looked towards the stars one last time and turned to the side, glancing at Ori, who was doing his best to give them a bit of privacy, while still obviously fascinated by the presence of a ghost.
"Ready?" Fíli asked, and Kíli closed his eyes, nodding his head. They faced the grave together and Ori approached, helping Fíli lift the wooden box so they could lower it into the ground. The two men stood up, one of them on either side of the ghost, and then Ori began to recite the chosen poem.
Under the wide and starry sky,
Dig the grave and let me lie,
Glad did I live and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will.
This be the verse you grave for me:
Here he lies where he longed to be,
Home is the sailor, home from sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.
Kíli gazed at Fíli, his brow scrunching together as the last words were spoken. It was clear he recognized the words, knew they came from his favourite author, and there was nothing more appropriate to say at his sending off. The brunet leaned over, pressing his chilled lips against Fíli's cheek one last time, and then he lowered to the ground as Ori began burying the box with dirt. Fíli placed a few flowers on top of the grave, taking a moment to arrange them nicely, and when he looked at Kíli the ghost was staring at something above them. Fíli followed his line of sight but saw nothing, and when he looked back at the ghost's face it was a mask of wonder. The brunet was enraptured, with whatever it was he saw, something clearly not visible to the eyes of the living. A moment later Kíli blinked, and he looked towards Fíli pleadingly. Fíli wanted to ask him to stay, but he knew he couldn't.
Go, Fíli mouthed, offering the brunet a supportive smile, and Kíli nodded. The ghost floated upwards, reaching out towards something, and then his body faded from sight. Fíli's eyes remained fixated on the sky, the space around them suddenly far darker than he remembered it being. His gaze slowly dropped, his chin lowering as he looked towards the grave sombrely. Fíli reached into his pocket, pulling out the necklace. The chain fell to the ground and he ran a thumb across the gemstones before placing it alongside the flowers.
"Fíli," Ori spoke at his side, and the blond stood up suddenly, tucking both his hands back into his pockets.
"He's…," Fíli muttered, unable to put it into words. His eyes were burning, his lips clenched tight together, and he stared down at the fresh grave stonily.
"Fíli it's okay, you did the right thing," Ori said, and the smaller man was at his side, linking their arms together. Fíli squeezed his eyes shut, and it was then that the tears began to fall.
July 16th, 1901
Dear Diary,
I've never been happier! As I write this, I watch my husband playing with Kíli at the river's edge. They were fishing for a while, but Vílidan is dreadful at catching much of anything, and now they've given up and moved on to splashing one another silly. Kíli's face is alight with joy, and his laughter is so heartfelt. I am grinning ear to ear.
I've been a bit tired lately, and Vílidan thinks I might be with child again. So I'm resting beneath our favourite willow, enjoying the shade and feel of the leaves as they fall over my face. The carving is still there, a primitive heart, with V+D etched in the middle. I think it's beautiful, and it reminds me of the day he proposed. I've run my fingers across the letters hundreds of times already.
I'm feeling a bit ill, but I won't let it affect my mood. Today is far too wonderful to be tarnished by such a thing. I think for now I'll close my eyes and enjoy the fresh air.
Love,
Discordia
Fíli sipped at his coffee listlessly, scanning over an article in the newspaper for the tenth time. He felt like a zombie, like he could just fall back into bed and sleep the day away. He probably would have if not for Ori. The other man insisted on getting him up at the crack of dawn and cooking him breakfast. Even Fíli had to laugh a bit when breakfast turned out to be pop-tarts heated in the microwave. It had been a while since he'd gone grocery shopping, and his fridge was beginning to suffer for it.
The blond stretched out his legs, slouching in his chair, while Ori scurried around the kitchen, rambling about the lack of supplies. Fíli quirked his lips slightly, but couldn't shake his bad mood. He flipped the page in the paper, trying to focus on another article with little success. He was thinking about trying to sneak his way back to bed when Ori paused in front of one of the windows, a pop-tart hanging from between his lips.
"Fíli…whoofs 'at?" Ori's voice was muffled from the food, and he bit off a chunk, holding the rest of it in his hand. He was standing on his tiptoes, peering outside with narrowed eyes, and Fíli glanced out the window and frowned. He stood, mug in hand, and stared outside as he took a large gulp of his coffee. Someone was sitting on one of the swings, gently rocking back and forth. Fíli took in the leather jacket, and the messy dark hair tied in a loose bun. The man wore heavy combat boots and a thick grey scarf around his neck, though Fíli couldn't see his face from the angle. But he did see a familiar necklace clasped in one hand, and Fíli felt his face redden in anger. He pushed away from the window, hurrying towards the back door. There was no way he was going to let some punk trespass on his property and take what wasn't his. The door slammed open, and Fíli strode towards the swings with gritted teeth.
"Hey! Who do you think you are?!" Fíli shouted as he approached the swing set, coffee mug in hand.
"Put that back where you got it and get the hell off my property!" he fumed, and he came to a stop when the man halted his swinging. Fíli watched the face turn, took in familiar brown eyes, and a gorgeous smile, and he choked on air and dropped the mug to the ground. It shattered, coffee spilling out over the grass, but Fíli's eyes were drawn elsewhere. Kíli sat on the swing, whole, solid, and happy, and when he stood and began walking towards the blond, Fíli staggered in surprise. The leaves crunched beneath his boots, the wind blew in his hair, and when he stood only an inch away, his breath grazed the tip of Fíli's nose.
"Thank you," a heady voice whispered, and Fíli felt the gentle touch of fingers upon his face. He was kissing Kíli before he knew what had happened, his arms wrapped around the brunet tight as can be. His lips were wet and warm, his hair silky, his skin soft and filled with life. Fíli pressed their brows together and stared into Kíli's eyes, gasping as he felt eyelashes flutter against his skin. He was afraid to let go, afraid to look away for even a moment in case it wasn't real.
He didn't hear Ori stepping outside, or his friend's startled gasp. But he did hear Kíli's choked laughter, felt the brunet's shoulders shaking in relief, and tasted the saltiness of his tears as he kissed every inch of his face. Fíli revelled in it, squeezing Kíli tight against his chest. Surprisingly warm fingers inched around the back of his neck and for the first time ever they danced beneath the light of the sun.
AN: That little poem near the end is Requiem by Robert Louis Stevenson, the author of Treasure Island.