Hello my lovelies, here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy it.
He managed to start a fire, though his hands were shaking as he struck the shards of flint, sending sparks flying everywhere, almost setting his cloak alight.
"Careful, careful." The man warned him, "Last thing we need is you setting yourself on fire. My burn salve is stuck in that godforsaken place, along with the rest of my pack."
Kili fed twigs to the small flames, watching the shadows flicker across Fili's unconscious form. His brother had not stirred since they'd treated his wounds, and a fever had crept in, his forehead burning, skin flushed. He had not moved at all, not woken, not spoken. Nothing.
He poked the fire, anxious and agitated, scowling at the prone form beside him. And all the while, his gaze flickered restlessly between the fire, Fili and their human companion.
"How did you come to be captured?" He asked curiously, desperate for distraction.
The man scowled suddenly, his face cast into shadow as the dark eyes turned stormy and Kili found himself immediately intimidated, bowing his head.
"It doesn't ma-" he began, but he was cut off abruptly as the man began to speak.
"A moon ago, my son was travelling through these parts. Young, a few weeks over twenty. He disappeared on his way to meet me north of the Brandywine. I went looking for him."
His face darkened.
"I found a campsite. The remains of his horse. Butchered." He spat, "With no sign of orcs in the area, I made camp and waited til daylight when I could distinguish more from the prints, but before morning could come, I was ambushed by those godforsaken beasts. They'd slaughtered him, hacked him to bits and eaten him. Like he was cattle! Like he was a goddam animal! And then they wanted to do the same to me. I'll butcher the sodding lot of them!"
Raw fury punctured his voice, anguish in his eyes.
"How do you know that it was them?" Kili asked tentatively, curiosity peeking through as pity clutched at his heart.
With a heavy sigh, the man reached inside a pocket on his breeches to produce a handful of small, intricately carved wooden beads.
"His sister made him an armlet out of beads she made herself. It was meant to be a good luck charm. I found the beads, a few of them, scattered about the chamber where we found you. No chance brought them there. It must have snapped as he struggled. Right before they-" His voice broke.
Feeling horribly guilt for bringing it up, Kili broke eye contact. "I'm sorry," He mumbled in Westron, the language becoming easier on his tongue the more he spoke it.
"Don't be. If your brother hadn't freed me, I'd probably be in their stomachs soon enough." The man glowered into the fire, the flames casting a gentle glow over the beads in his palm.
"Get some rest lad. I won't be getting any tonight. I'll wake you if anything changes with your brother."
He nodded quietly, feeling the sheer exhaustion of the week's excitement hit him like a stone, an oddly appropriate comparison, he considered. There was a fire to drive away the darkness, someone to keep watch and his brother was beside him. He prayed silently to the gods to speed his brother's recovery and cool his fever, tucking his cloak around himself as he settled in for the night.
He woke in a panic from turbulent dreams of gnashing teeth and splintered bones, watching the great, blood-soaked stone be brought down upon his head as terror ripped him from sleep.
He glanced over at his brother, touching a hand gently to his forehead. To his relief, his skin was cooler to the touch, although still warmer than normal. A quick peek at the dressings on his brother's hands suggested that the swelling had subsided a little.
Hauling himself up, Kili rubbed his eyes furiously, trying to scour the images from his vision. The fire had smouldered to ashes and he squinted blearily at the sunrise as it climbed sleepily over the horizon.
He scanned the camp with blurry eyes, finding their human companion leant up against a tree not ten paces away, staring into the dawn.
He pulled himself to his feet, warily wondering if the man would mind his company as he made his way over, stretching the stiffness out of his aching joints.
"I'm curious," The man rumbled, and Kili jumped, not realising that he'd heard him approach, "What are two young dwarves with almost no survival skills doing this side of the Blue Mountains?"
He laughed, "My Uncle's leading a venture to the east. He's gone to a meet with some of our kin and then to see a wizard, Gandalf – I don't know if you've heard of him?"
"Aye, my brother owns an inn over in Bree, he tells me he passes through every once in a while. Consorts with strange folk, but wizards will be wizards, or so I'm told."
"You know, I don't believe I asked your name."
"Aedric. Aedric Butterbur. I'm from Bree myself, I've a forge there."
"Kili. My brother is Fili. According to my mother rhyming names are a dwarvish tradition, though it sounds rather ridiculous when we have to introduce ourselves."
The man chuckled, "Aye I bet it does."
Kili shaded his eyes with one hand as he stared out on the horizon.
"The river isn't far from here."
Aedric nodded, "There's an inn on the south bank of the Brandywine half way to Bree. We can stop there for the night before we push on."
There was a noise behind them – a slight rustle, a crack of twigs and Kili spun around anxiously to see his brother struggling to sit up, eyes searching wildly for him.
Delight and worry warred within him as he almost sprinted over.
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