«TODAY WE WILL KILL THE DRAGON!»
The words rang in her head as she walked through the silent halls of the Mountain. Now and then she passed a serving dwarf, restless children playing or anyone else who were not in the Hall of Mithril, but it was very few to speak of, and none took any notice of her. No one wanted to miss the festivities, even if the King had returned to his chambers.
This was a happy day, but Kíliel felt the tears rise in her eyes, and the lump in her throat only grew as she tried to swallow her fear. No matter how calmly she tried to breathe, inhale and exhale as her mother had taught her to do in stressful situations, it had no effect. As a drop released from her eye she could not hold it in any longer, and she ran around the corner and into an empty chamber. It was a storage of some kind. She sat down on one of the barrels as she succumbed to the sobbing that rolled through her body. Tears and snot streamed down her face no matter how much she tried to wipe it away, and her small shoulders shook violently as she heaved for breath between her sobs.
Having led Thorin back to his rooms, her old grandfather had leaned much on her, and his unsteadiness was one of the first signs that awoke the fear in her heart. Second was his loss of time and his surroundings, as well as the wonder in his eyes when he had first looked at her, not recognising her as he usually would immediately. It was wrong, so wrong that he had for a moment not been himself, and the fear in her rolled like a beast, uncontrollable as it played the whole scene over and over inside her head, trying to force her to see the truth.
Thorin was getting old, he was indeed the longest living dwarf of his kin, and she knew that his symptoms were all symptoms of dementia and eventually death. It was disgraceful and unwanted for a dwarf to die of old age rather than in battle with an axe in his hand.
All these aspects fed her fear more and more as she thought of it over and over again, and there was only one thought going through her head after it all: Thorin would die, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Kíliel wailed, screaming out her frustration, fear, desperation, for she had never felt so hopeless and powerless as she did in this moment. She held her arms tightly about herself, and she cared little that she creased her tunic or that her hair was ruined. None of it mattered when her grandfather was sick.
The sobbing eventually subsided, and after a while she sat quietly on the barrel, holding herself while all the world crumbled about her feet. It was then that she noticed that the door was pushed open, and she did not look up, not wanting to show her swollen eyes and runny nose to anyone, least of all Thekk. For who else came looking for her, and wouldn't introduce themselves when they saw the princess of Erebor sitting like this? She felt her heart lighten, not because Thekk could fix anything, but because she knew she could share her pain with him.
He sat down beside her and slowly he placed his arms around her, his grip firm as his hand held around her arm. Kíliel sighed heavily and leaned against his shoulder, automatically inhaling the sweet scent that was on his furry collar. Suddenly her heart stopped, because Thekk had not been wearing a furry collared vest, and the long black hair falling over his shoulders were far from Thekk's soft, brown curls.
She held her breath as she slowly raised her head and looked straight into Aín's ice-blue eyes. She froze for a second, but her insides were screaming to get away from him. She hadn't had him this close since he had grabbed her arm five years ago. And she had wanted to keep it that way.
Unlike Kíliel, Aín had a peaceful expression as he raised his hand to wipe a tear away from her cheek. The touch of his fingers was like a shock that awoke her frozen body. Kíliel stumbled to her feet, fighting to get out of his arms. Her eyes had a look of disgust and shock as she stood a few feet away from him, as far as the small chamber allowed, her chest heaving as she tried to comprehend what had happened.
Aín sat silent, watching her, his head slightly tilted as if wondering why she had moved away from him so suddenly. Kíliel stared at him, trying to find any malice, any sign of evil intent in his gaze, but his eyes were simply kind with a hint of curiosity as he held her gaze steadily.
«What are you doing?» She spoke sharply, her jaw locked with new anger.
«Forgive me, princess, it seemed to me as though you needed comforting?» It was a question, but it was as if it hadn't come from his lips. His voice was different, his kind expression seemed fake as she stared at him, though she had nothing but her gut-feeling and her previous experience with Aín to go by.
«No, no, why are you here? Did you follow me?» She demanded, her voice full of disgust as she creased her eyebrows and a sneer flashed over her face.
This time he didn't answer, he simply smiled, somewhat sad and condescending as he rose from where he sat, and took a step closer to her. He cocked his head to the other side and held his arms out from his body in a submissive gesture, as if saying he had no bad intentions. Kíliel didn't trust him.
«I was shocked by the King's behaviour and I came to see if you needed any help,» he finally said, seeing her misbelieving expression and defensive pose. «Trust me, I meant no offence, princess.»
«Stop calling me that! I will never be your princess!» Kíliel screamed as she took a step towards him. «And I will never trust you! So just go; I want to be alone!» She laid her arms about herself again, and turned halfway away from him, not wanting to lose him out of sight completely. She did not trust him in the least, especially not when they were alone.
He took a step towards her, and he laid his hand carefully over hers. She shook him off and pressed her eyes shut as she felt tears once again fill her eyes. The reality of the situation came back to her, even if Aín had distracted her from her pain for a moment. She would never admit it.
Aín touched her again, and sobbing she could do nothing but lock herself down. No matter what he said she would never succumb to his charm, as she realised her family slowly had begun to. When he again laid his arms around her shoulders, she could only turn away her face, and as he laid his forehead agains her neck, she shuddered, but could do nothing to get out of his embrace.
«Why won't you let me help you?» with certain hands he turned her around in his arms, so that her face pressed into his chest, and the sweetness of his scent made her want to vomit. It would've been a welcomed response, maybe Aín would have let her go, but nothing came, and she couldn't but swallow her disgust.
«Because you don't want to help me…,» Kíliel muttered into his golden vest. «You only help yourself.»
At that Aín held her out from him, and creasing his eyebrows, he looked at her with a wondering expression. He held a hand under her chin and raised her head to him. Then he smiled and caressed her cheek. She noticed how cold his hand was. Compared to Thekk's warm touch, his was ice.
«You are young, Kíliel, what do you know?»
«I am not so young,» she sneered, suddenly remembering this morning and the sudden changes in her body. Had he only known… but never in a million years would she reveal something so personal to him, the boy that made her want to vomit up all the lovely lamb she ate for dinner.
«Oh, no?» Aín asked in a curious tone, with only a hint of irony to it. He stepped back, his eyes moving lazily over her body, and suddenly Kíliel got an itching feeling that he could see through her clothes. «I forget you are not that much younger than me, even if you are half elf.»
Kíliel flinched, expecting the word to cut into her skin, but to her surprise it didn't. He hadn't sneered, there was no sign of disgust on his face, only those calm, ice-blue eyes that held her in a steady gaze. Kíliel looked at him with scrutinising eyes, looking for evidence of his prejudice and loath, but she found nothing. It must've been another one of his tricks.
«What?!» She demanded, her voice somewhere between angry and confused.
«I mean, obviously you'll mature slower than me, being half. I shouldn't be surprised,» and again Kíliel expected his voice to become condescending and loathing, but again it didn't. She blinked, trying to think what he was playing at. But was it truly a game, or could he have changed? It was after all five years since last she'd talked directly to him, as she had worked hard to avoid him ever since the incident in the class-room.
«What happened to 'she-elf'?» Kíliel suddenly sneered with narrow and hard eyes, refusing to believe that this 'new' Aín was real. As she stared at his face to see his reaction, there was a tiny flinch in his expression, a flash of regret in his eyes, but what it meant she could not say for certain. He exhaled before meeting her gaze.
«You know, Kíliel, I am not so young anymore either. The mistakes I've made are my own, though I am not proud of them. I had hoped you could forgive me after all,» he bit his lip and lowered his eyes, and Kíliel wanted to scream at him to stop it. She could not believe this. No one changed so extremely in only five short years. It was not true, and she would not let him manipulate her.
«Why should I? You have given me no reason to think that you are changed,» Kíliel spoke through clenched teeth.
«Why do you think that I am standing here now? I know that you have avoided me for years, and every time you look at me I feel the shame burn in my heart, for believe me, I feel your hate as blazing metal to my bare skin every time you look at me.» He spoke bitterly, and even if it was clear that it was for his own actions, Kíliel couldn't help but be suspicious. «That is why I am here, to show you that maybe you should give me another chance. If I am to be in the Council one day, I would prefer it if we could at least be in the same room without you wanting to murder me,» he said the last with a soft smirk, his hopeful eyes full of a question she knew she could not answer.
«But why? How does anyone go from hating to regret so entirely? I do not understand,» she asked instead, trying to work her thoughts around everything he had ever said, everything he had ever done.
A flash of anguish washed over his face. «When I was a mere babe, my father, mother and grandfather took me from our homeland, Ered Nimras, for the news of the dragon's death and Thorin's victory in the Battle of Five Armies was the promise of a better life for us. Our land was bare, and at the borders of Mordor we struggled with invading orcs and other dark creatures. My parents thought they could give me a better life in Erebor, and with my Grandfather's old friendship with Thror, they hoped to be welcomed. But the trip was not without peril, and at the borders of Lorien we were ambushed by the elves, and only barely managed to escape, all but my mother whom got an arrow in the back, while protecting me in her arms.»
Aín spoke quickly, like if he ever stopped to breathe he wouldn't have been able to continue. When he finished he lowered his head, and exhaled heavily, as if struggling to keep his temper. Kíliel felt a sharp pain in her chest at the mention of his mother's death, feeling all too well the fear of losing Thorin whom stood closest to her heart.
«I am sorry,» Kíliel muttered, feeling a new tear releasing from her eye, remembering with a weight like that of an anvil the fear in her own heart. Aín cleared his throat and looked at her again, his eyes filled with sadness.
«So you see, I did not have the best point of view when it came to elves, and growing up I was full of wrath and hatred for all of them, when it was in truth only the action of few that coloured my eyes. After Fíli's lecture of how unacceptable my actions had been, I saw it clearly and I have tried to make it up to your family ever since.» He straightened in front of her and folded his hands behind his back, his expression sincere and yet repenting.
This new information came as a greater surprise to her than anything he had yet said or done. Had Fíli truly talked to him about it? When was this? She hadn't heard her family talk about Aín since the first time she mentioned him to them, and after she had made sure not to speak of it, as she had not wanted to look weak or immature. This truly explained a lot.
«I had no idea,» she mumbled, her eyes fleeting as she had trouble holding his gaze. This changed so much. But did it mean that she should forgive him everything? She didn't know what to think, and it was an inner battle for what she should do or say next.
«You could not know,» Aín shrugged and smiled crookedly, and Kíliel looked at him finally with wondering eyes, finally seeing the dwarf that stood before her with eyes unclouded by loath.
He was unlike any dwarf she had ever seen. His hair was raven black and completely straight, the top of which was collected in a tight ponytail, with the rest hanging loose. One braid was fashioned on each side of his face, and with one which went into the ponytail at the left side of his head. His hair was certainly thick, but it was still different from that of the dwarves of Erebor. He must be of the Blacklocks, one of the more slender clans of the dwarves, with warmer, olive-coloured skin. Only his eyes did not fit the description of others of his clan, with iced blue irises. His sideburns ran all the way down his cheeks and along his chin, ending in a cleanly kept beard that was braided in a yet short braid. He was still far from fully mature, but she could see that he would end up looking like his grandfather.
Kíliel had never actually noticed anything special about Aín's appearance before, but looking at him now, she saw that he was without a doubt handsome, more so than any dwarf she had ever seen. The combination of his mysterious eyes and his clean cut style, it was in all different, but elegant.
A sudden stab in her chest, as if that of a small needle, surprised her, as well as the instant image of Thekk that arose in her mind. She was filled with a strange regret, as if she had done something so perverse, as if she had broken a deep personal standard, and for some reason she could only think of the brown haired dwarf that would one day be King. A bad feeling arose in her chest, along with a burning desire to see him again. She could not explain any of it.
Kíliel exhaled, focusing her attention again, and even if some things were changed, some yet weren't. After all this there was still a voice in the back of her head whispering that she should not trust him. Even if it was all true what he said, she could not be sure if he only told it to change her opinion of him, and after all that had happened between them she could not forgive him so easily.
«Kíliel?» Aín asked, his voice slightly worried, though Kíliel could not understand why.
As she straightened and met his gaze again, she felt a sudden wave of nausea roll through her body, though this time it had nothing to do with him, and a sharp pain in her lower abdomen. She felt faint and tired and she touched her head as she lost her balance for a second. Aín stepped quickly forward and grabbed her so she didn't fall, and she grabbed a hold of his arm as she tried to steady herself.
«It's nothing,» she mumbled, breathing heavily to regain her balance. «I'm only tired.»
«Shall I take you to your chambers?» Aín asked as he held her arms securely and she tried to stand on her own, without luck. Kíliel nodded and felt her heart beat faster and faster of no apparent reason. She could hardly breathe.
—
As they walked slowly through the Mountain to the Halls of the King, Kíliel found herself leaning almost entirely on Aín, and the notion both confused her and softened her thoughts towards him. Being more than half a head taller than her, he supported her with strong arms, and he made it seem as though she was weightless.
When they entered the Hall of the Kings and were halfway across the massive room, a shape came out of the archway leading to the sleeping chambers. Kíliel was still light headed, struggling to focus, and did not recognise the figure walking towards them. She didn't know who he was before he called across the room.
«Kíliel!» It was the voice of Thekk, and never had she been so happy to see him. He on the other hand was not so thrilled of the sight that met him, and he instantly marched over to them, quicker than his short dwarven legs usually would allow.
When he finally met them on the middle of the floor, Kíliel threw her arms around him. This gesture alone shocked him beyond compare, but as soon as the surprise subsided he focused his attention on Aín that now stood silently watching the floor, his hands on his back.
«What have ya' done with 'er?» Thekk boomed, his voice echoing throughout the hall, making it sound like the roar of a storm rather than the voice of a young dwarfling. He caressed Kíliel's face and brushed away the hair that stuck to her forehead of cold-sweat.
Aín raised his gaze and met his eyes with a calm and humble expression. «I only did as she asked and followed her to her chambers,» his voice was so silent it was a whisper compared to Thekk's rage. «I was only trying to help.»
Thekk narrowed his eyes, almost hissing when he answered: «We do not need your help,» his voice was venomous and Kíliel felt a sting of sympathy as she vaguely observed the confrontation before her.
«It is as he says, this isn't his fault. I… I don't know what's happening to me,» Kíliel mumbled into his neck. Thekk creased his eyebrows while looking at Aín with a hard gaze, but finally he turned to Kíliel instead.
«Let me follow you to your chambers, Kíliel,» Thekk mumbled and caressed her face again. He secured his hold on her, holding her hand steady in his firm grip as he turned them around to walk to her chambers. The coldness of her skin worried him.
Thekk turned to give Aín one last, mistrusting gaze, and silently he vowed not to let that snake get close to Kíliel ever again. He would make sure of that. No matter how many charming smiles and sweet words Aín would give them, Thekk would never trust him.
I understand if this chapter is weird and confuses you a bit, but there is a meaning behind it, and I hope you can take the time to analyse Aín and his change in character, and tell me exactly what you think. It is a bit of an experiment, and i hope you wont hate me for it. You will understand later!
