Today had been a strange day. With everything from dwarves popping out of the toilet to the supposed return of the 'King Under the Mountain', life in Laketown had been utterly turned on its head from the very moment that Thorin Oakenshield and Co. had passed the gates. For Bard's household especially, it seemed as though they were living in some sort of dream; whether it was a good dream or a nightmare no one was quite sure. When the dwarves of Erebor had set out in their boat earlier that afternoon for the mountain though, there at least had been time for a breath of relief. Not for Bard, obviously, who was fretting over the prophecy and the thought of a re-awakened dragon coming down from on high to rain death upon their town. For Sigrid, Tilda and Bain though, they had almost been sad to see the dwarves go. Their loud talk and strange appearance had certainly made things exciting around the house since they had come dripping out of the privy. So it was that when Fili, Bofur and Oin had shown up on the doorstep again with a wounded Kili, Bard's children were hopeful that their father wouldn't turn the dwarves away. Sure enough, the bowman's better nature won out, and yet again Sigrid and Tilda found themselves fetching blankets for their guests.
This time though, it was more obvious than ever that something was dreadfully wrong with the stubble-bearded dwarf. After handing Oin a wash-towel for dabbing at the festering wound on Kili's thigh, little Tilda couldn't help but linger, her young face tight with concern. Their father had gone out, along with Bain and the Black Arrow that had been hidden this whole time, leaving the girls to watch over the house and their guests. Hands folded nervously behind her back, Tilda leaned forward, trying to see just how badly hurt Kili was...
"Tilda!" came an admonishment from Sigrid, who had taken on a mother-like role in the family ever since their real mother had died. "Come away from there and don't crowd!"
With a start, Tilda skittered back a bit, giving Oin more space to work. Kili turned his head from where he had been getting reassurances from Fili though, and half-smiled, half-grimaced at the little girl. "It's just a scratch, you'll see." he said in a thinly-cheerful voice. "Got it fighting off a whole orc pack, with one hand tied behind my back!"
Crossing the room from where she had been heating water over the hearth, Sigrid placed a hand on either of her little sister's shoulders, unable to contain her own concern and curiosity. "Wasn't it properly wrapped, when you were first hurt?" After years of cleaning up Bain's cuts and scrapes for him, Sigrid was already well-versed in the common sense of women.
With a gloomy look at the girls, Fili shook his head. "We tried to do what we could...but the orcs were on our tail and we had to keep moving." Oin poked at a particularly bad spot around the wound, and Kili nearly crushed Fili's hand from the sudden pain.
Without a word, Tilda turned and ran from the room, and Sigrid called after her, worried that the sight of blood had been to much for the little girl. Before you could say 'Oakenshield' though, Tilda was back, and carrying something. Shyly approaching where Kili lay being tended by the other dwarves, she held out a worn pillow stitched with patterns of fish and boats.
"Here." She said, offering it to Kili, her face very solemn. "For when it hurts." Tilda's eyes flickered to where Kili was squeezing Fili's hand nearly bloodless, by way of explanation.
Sigrid blushed at the childish gesture from her little sister, and Oin raised his bushy eyebrows. Kili however tried to smile, and broke his death-grip on Fili's fingers with an apologetic look. Reaching over to take the cushion, he winced at the pain in his leg that the movement caused. "Thank you, that's very kind of you." When Oin applied a stinging ointment to the wound, Kili flinched and instinctively gripped the pliable fabric. "...I can't guarantee that you'll get this back in one piece though." the young dwarf admitted, suspecting that the pain would only get worse as the wound festered.
"That's alright. I don't need it anymore." said Tilda. Then, after a moment's pause, she blurted out "You're not going to die, right? After all, the dragon might be gone, and you'll want to see the mountain!"
Fili and Sigrid exchanged a glance; the glance of elder siblings both worried for their family. Fili dearly hoped that his brother would live to see Erebor, and Sigrid dearly hoped that their father was wrong; that the dragon was in fact gone. Oblivious to this unspoken exchange by their siblings, Kili gave Tilda a feeble wink.
"Die, me? Nah, I've got too much to do and see for that!" Giving the cushion another agonized squeeze, he managed "Thank you, for this. I can definitely use it right now..."
Tilda stepped back, but smiled. "You're welcome...Do you think, if the stories are true, and there's a King Under the Mountain again, that you could take us to see the mountain someday?" She asked timidly, as though unsure if she was over-stepping her bounds in some way.
Without hesitation, Kili propped himself up on an elbow. Fili reached out to support his brother, and Kili accepted the shoulder to lean back on. "Sure." Kili nodded, humoring the little girl. "I'll show you all the statues in the main hall, and we can eat roast pork and drink mead until we get sick!"
Sigrid opened her mouth to protest the part about mead, and Tilda giggled, already imaging the fun to be had in the Kingdom Under the Mountain. Leaning back down to rest, Kili couldn't help but wonder if he'd be able to make good on that invitation. Turning his head to look out the window towards Erebor, the young Durin wondered where the rest of the company was at that moment...