Disclaimer: The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings and all characters therein are the property of the Tolkien Estate and Wingnut Films. This story is for entertainment only and the author is in no way profiting from it, nor exercising any claims to The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings.
Village of Sorrow
Part 2
Kíli never fully went to sleep as the arms carried him away from his family, unable to scream or cry out as he wished. A woman's voice began to croon a strange song that he had never heard before, and the dwarfling blinked heavily, trying to resist the siren call of sleep. This was not his Mama or Father carrying him to bed after a long day of play, too exhausted to keep his eyes open any longer, this was a stranger! Wrong! This was wrong! A single tear rolled down the side of his cheek and he heard the woman gasp.
"Oh! My little love… please don't cry! Mommy has you now! You're safe, and you're going home! Shhh… Just rest, my baby Kalan!"
"Maran!"
The hiss came from the darkness above Kili's head, and everything was abruptly very bright and loud. Heavier sobs shook the little boy's frame as he tried and failed once again to move. More hands were grabbing him, rougher this time, but the woman would not let go. Finally, Kíli was able to make a high pitched scream of pain as his wrist gave a sickening pop as the man tugged at it. Suddenly, he felt even more floaty and dizzy, black spots swimming in his vision, and he knew if he just reached out, he could catch them.
Then his tummy burped, the burning liquid scorching his throat as it came up. His mouth hung limp and open as it spewed down the man's clothes and the woman finally won the tug of war for him. She clutched him tight, swinging his limp body up so that his head rested on her shoulder as she rubbed his back, just as Mama did.
"What are you doing with that filthy little creature, Maran? Have you lost what little sense you have left?"
"That's a fine way to talk about your son, Coreck! It's not his fault they stole him for their own!" She began to rock back and forth, forcing Kíli to close his eyes as he moaned, the movement threatening to make him sick again. "Shhh, little love, you know Daddy didn't mean it. Just sleep, now."
Drugged, emotionally and physically exhausted, and helpless, the little dwarf child did not fight the welcome pull of sleep, certain that morning would bring him back to where he belonged with a tale that would make even Fíli laugh.
Unfortunately, those hopes were brutally torn away some time later when he again woke to the foul cloth being pressed down over his nose and mouth. Flailing, his tiny hands curled into the coarse fabric of the woman's tunic only to fall limp once more. The man's voice was rough and soft in his ear, tickling, but Kíli could not squirm away any longer.
"Can't have your kin looking everywhere for you, can we? Since Maran is so certain you are her lost Kalan, perhaps you should join him!"
What did that mean? Was he to have a new friend? Kíli lay limp as he was borne out into the night, longing to ask the questions darting through his mind. First, of course, was when he could go back to his brother and parents. He wasn't allowed out alone at night, that's when all kinds of mean things could come get a lonely little dwarfling! Didn't this man know that? He didn't want a new friend, not if it meant leaving Fíli and getting in trouble with Mama and Father and Uncle Thorin! He was supposed to be good so he could stay with Bofur tomorrow and help him make toys!
Wind made him shiver, wishing for a warm blanket and the reassuring bulk of his brother curled up next to him. Tears were slowly running from his eyes again. Fíli would call him a baby if he saw, but Kíli didn't care. He was more scared than he had ever been in his life, even when Mama was so sick!
Then the man shifted him to hold over just one arm and Kíli stared at the ground below, certain he would fall. Why did men have to be so big? Didn't they become dizzy and fall down like he did when they went high up the mountain once? A torch flared and Kíli blinked, frowning as he did not see grass anymore, but stone. Uncle Thorin had taken him and Fíli both in his arms the other day, and told them they must not explore any caves they saw around here, no matter what. Mean snakes lived here, and they could make a dwarf fall asleep and never wake up!
He was laid down, then, on the cold stone, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not make his body move. The man was across from him, straining to move rocks that were piled up in the cave. Kíli frowned, abruptly diverted by trying to figure out why the man was having such a hard time. The stones were not that big, any adult dwarf would easily move them! Maybe the man was sick like the lady and that's why he huffed and made funny noises. Kíli would have laughed at him if he could, glad he was a sturdy dwarf and not one of these strange Men! Finally, the man returned to him, pulling him up by his hurt wrist, but Kíli could only whine a little, more tears coming.
"Quiet, you little-"
The man did not put him down gently this time. Kíli was flung through the air to land with a wail on the stone, then he heard the one sound every dwarf had been taught to fear, even those who had been born far from their underground halls – falling rock!
*****888*****
Thorin Oakenshield, Prince of Durin and leader of the dwarves of Erebor in exile, stared helplessly at his teary-eyed sister, praying to Mahal that he had not heard correctly.
"What do you mean, Kíli is gone? Surely he simply got out of bed to use the jakes!"
"No!" Dis gave him a hearty thump to his arm, anger making her blue eyes blaze. "I told you Vidri already looked! He and Vili are out circling the camp!"
Thorin blinked, mind finally fully waking as he registered his sister's level of distress. This was not some minor temper tantrum leading to a little dwarfling sulking behind his chest of belongings again, this was serious!
"What happened?"
They were a mile or more from the village, so the boy could not have woken and gone exploring there, but perhaps the surrounding wilderness? But Kíli had been afraid of the dark since he was told his baby sister had gone to sleep in the darkness all alone, would he willingly scamper off like that? And what of the odd stories the dwarves who had visited the village today came back with, of men drunk in the middle of the morning and a woman accusing the dwarves of stealing children? Was it simply the same suspicion they were ordinarily greeted with, or was there more going on?
Behind her, a half asleep Balin was murmuring to the little blonde in his lap, trying to get Fíli to stop crying long enough to tell them if he knew anything about where his brother had gone. So far, that had not gone well, the dwarfling now alternating sobs with hiccups as the air he had gulped upset his stomach. Thorin wanted to grab the boy and demand that he stop the useless hysterics, but knew from experience that it would only make the child worse.
The prince-turned-uncrowned king grit his teeth even as he murmured empty reassurances to his distraught little sister. Dis was still so young, too young to be saddled with the cares of motherhood and aiding him in leading their people! She should be carefree and wild, eyes sparkling as she told him of the latest gossip from her friends and laughing when he blushed at the young dwarrowdam's interest in the prince! Safe, secure, and within Erebor's mighty walls, not wandering through Dunland on the way to a ruin in the west that they would attempt to make habitable!
"We will find him, Dis, do not-"
"Thorin! There's tracks leading away from camp, too large to belong to any of us! I think Kili's been taken!"
His pledge-brother, Dis' husband Vidri, and Vidri's older brother, Vili, ducked into the tent the dwarves had set up to give themselves a sheltered area for the ill, faces grim. Dwalin burst in a moment later, followed by several other warriors of their small group, including Dori, Bofur, Bifur, Óin and Glóin. Voices overrode one another, volume escalating as each dwarf tried to be heard over the others, and Thorin heard Fíli begin to wail again.
"Silence!"
His roar received the expected result, even Fíli staring at him white-faced and wide-eyed from where he still clutched Balin's robes in a death grip. Thorin accepted the sword his shield-brother, Dwalin, handed him, angry eyes meeting those of each dwarf in turn.
"Vidri, Dis, tell us exactly what happened tonight."
The blonde warrior had his arm wrapped around his wife, muttering to her, but he straightened at Thorin's order.
"When we arrived at the village, and began to set up, a woman appeared and tried to snatch Kíli away from Dis, yelling that we had stolen her son. Her husband came, then, saying she hadn't been well, and that he would see that she did not bother us further. We didn't see her again, Thorin, so I didn't think anything further of it. Then, when we arrived back at camp, Dis put Kíli and Fíli to bed right away. They were both exhausted, especially Kíli. About half an hour ago, Fíli woke us up. He was hysterical, just repeating Kili's name over and over. His bedroll is empty, and the footprints outside the camp don't match any dwarves."
Thorin nodded, turning his attention to his older sister-son, but Balin put up a hand, stopping the prince short.
"Let me try, first, Thorin." The scholar at least had the courtesy not to say he thought the boy's gruff uncle would only scare him further. "Fíli, lad, can you talk with me? I need to know why you woke your Mum and Papa tonight, can you tell me?"
It was a gentle, coaxing tone that Thorin knew he was incapable of producing right now. He was too angry. The little blonde sniffed, darting a glance at him only to stiffen and Thorin had to hide a wince. He wanted to be an uncle to the child, but he simply did not know how.
"Uh huh. I kept having nightmares about the people and the funny smell in the village, and my tummy was upset, so I wasn't really sleeping. I was just about to get up and pee when smell came over us, and my head started to feel funny. I tried to yell, but the shadow monster hit my head with a rock and took Kíli!"
"Shadow monster?" Dis hit her knees before the boy, one hand smoothing down fly-away hair as her other hand enveloped his small ones in his lap. "Do you remember anything else about this shadow monster, Fíli?"
The dwarfling screwed his face up as he thought, jerking irritably away from the fingers of Óin, who had focused on the news that the little prince had been hit in the head. Finally, Fíli glanced up, two large tears welling up in light blue eyes.
"It was big, Mama, that's all."
Dis pressed a kiss to Fíli's forehead, then gently bumped it with her own.
"Alright, love. That's good. Let Master Óin check your head, now, okay? We will find Kíli."
Thorin drew the small group over to the far side of the tent, lowering his voice to keep it from little ears that were already frightened enough.
"We start by following the footprints."
"And if that leads us to the village? You know the men won't respond well to being accused of taking one of our children."
Dwalin's irritable grumble and the way he clacked his knuckledusters as he spoke made it clear what he believed the best solution would be, but Thorin shook his head.
"We try the diplomatic approach first, Dwalin. Let Balin speak with the village elders."
"And if that doesn't work?"
Glóin scowled, arms crossed, making Thorin wish for a moment that Groin, the father of Glóin and Óin, as well as the eldest surviving dwarf of the line of Durin, was with them instead of leading another group. He had more experience dealing with men than any of them.
"Then we do whatever we must. I will not abide someone stealing a child of Durin."
"Good." The red-head's jaw clenched belligerently. "So long as we're clear on that."
*****888*****
For a long while after his body began to move again, Kíli sat huddled in the closest corner he could press himself into, wide eyes peering into the inky darkness, ears alert for the slightest sound. Every shift of settling rock made him cry out, certain that the entire cave was about to bury him alive. It was stiflingly hot, much like the worst days back on the plains where he had been born, when just moving drained what little energy he had. The air was thick and heavy with a stench that made him feel sick again.
Finally, it was all still for a long time. The dwarfling sniffed back the mucus running from his nose, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his tunic. Uncle Thorin would not be sitting here too scared to move, he would be finding a way out! The little boy kicked irritably at the rock, gasping when a piece skittered away from his bare foot, sparking with a tiny flash of light.
Firestone!
Trembling, he scraped the floor with his hands until he found two loose pieces of rock, running his fingers over them to see if they had the grainy feel he wanted. It was just like Cousin Glóin's game! As they travelled, the other adults had been taking turns showing the dwarflings, except Nori's baby brother, of course, all about the world around them each evening. Kíli loved it best when Father and Uncle Vili took their turn, but Cousin Glóin was a close second. He would gather rocks as they went, then made the dwarflings close their eyes and identify them by feel around the campfire. The one who could identify the most correctly would receive an apple or some other little treat. It was even better if you could tell Cousin Glóin what the rock was used for! Firestone, or fool's gold, was one of the best rocks to start fire with if you were stuck without flint and steel, Kíli told himself, quite proud, then slumped back. He didn't have any wood to burn. What else would start on fire?
His tunic! It was too hot in here, anyway. Quickly, he tried to strip the sticky cloth off over his head only to gasp, cradling his wrist as tears burned in his eyes. It hurt really, really bad! It felt funny, too, all puffed up and hot. Uncle Thorin wouldn't be stopped by a little owie, Mister Dwalin had said so! Sticking a lip out in defiance, Kíli began to tug at the fabric, squirming as he tried to get it over his head, finally succeeding and balling it up to put carefully on the ground in front of him. Now, how to hit the two rocks together when he could only hold one…?
He grinned, remembering the little creature called a mund-key one of the traders had brought with them from the south. It had chittered and swung around the tent until Uncle Thorin yelled at the dwarf to get it down before it wrecked the whole place. The stranger had made it come down with a squishy yellow food he said came from far in the south, where he and the mund-key both lived. The little creature had settled on his shoulders and taken the food with its feet, passing it up to its hands to enjoy.
Kíli curled his bare toes in the dirt of the floor. He could do that! It took several tries before he was able to hold on strong enough to strike the other piece of firestone into it, and once he hit his foot, making himself cry, but finally a spark leaped out, settling into the cloth. Moments later, a little flame flickered, allowing Kíli to look around his prison for the first time.
He wished he hadn't.
There was someone else there, a boy of men, but he wasn't moving. Instead, he lay there staring at Kíli, and his face looked all funny, puffed up and black. The dwarfling wrinkled his nose and cocked his head, considering the other child.
"Hello? My name is Kíli. What's yours?"
No response came, and the dwarfling finally screwed up the courage to scoot nearer, gasping and coughing as the smell grew worse. The other didn't move. Kíli reached out one trembling hand and poked the other boy in the cheek, gasping at the cold, awful feeling of the flesh beneath his fingers. It was only then that the dwarfling realized that the boy was not breathing.
Dead! He was dead!
Kíli scooted back fast, never feeling it when one foot stepped on the small fire, putting it out as his back hit the wall. Sobs shook him as he wrapped his arms around his legs and started to scream, unable to make himself stop. He didn't know when he finally blacked out, nor did he feel the air growing hotter and heavier in the small space. All he knew was that he would die here, alone with a dead child of men, beneath the rock that should be the refuge of his race.