Tauriel gathered her items in silence. The elves stood to the side, eying Kili's world. He stood to the side, watched everything he wanted fall apart. Tauriel did not so much as thank him for what he did. In only a few short minutes, she was ready to go. He swallowed the lump in his throat and told himself that this was six months, not forever.
But it seemed like the opposite.
As they walked, he kicked a few stones. They skittered off of the edge of the mountain before falling to the ground hundreds of miles below it. The silence was suffocating.
All three elves stood in a pack behind him. Tauriel had quickly changed clothes before leaving, her bow in her hand. She was looking down at the rocky path below her, not ahead. Her companion's eyes were cold, their hands behind their back.
The higher they went, the colder it got. Eventually, he could hear all three shivering. Without thinking, he handed his coat to Tauriel, and she took it. No emotion crossed her face, and no words left her lips, neither thanks or angry remarks. She put it on, even if it was too small for her. Her friend, the younger of the two blond elves, scowled at her, but said nothing. The other elf's eyes looked into his own. Even if Kili lived as long as he did, he never wanted to have the same look in his eyes.
After some time, he spoke. "I have dealt with your uncle before," he said. "He is still harder than the stone around him."
The entire group stopped and stared at him, none of them voicing their unspoken questions. He said nothing else on the subject.
Eventually, the two worlds met. Without realizing it, Kili had made it to Mirkwood without realizing it. The place truly had gotten darker. Bringing his bow had been a good idea; the spiders were even worse than before. He shot one in the eyes, and it lunged upward. He fired at where he guessed was its heart, and it fell to the ground dead.
When the other three got up, they all prepared their bows, except for the eldest, who appeared to have no weapon.
Tauriel wordlessly handed him his coat, and then prepared her bow. He considered telling her that it did not matter, that the spiders could no longer kill her, but the words never came to his lips.
Everything was exactly as she had left it. Her arrows were still spilled out on the floor of her room, her clothes (though covered in a slight layer of dust) were still in her closet, her bed still made, and her list of duties still written out on a piece of paper. If she felt the need to read, there was an elvish poetry collection on a small table near her bed, the piece of cloth she used to mark her page still inside.
Too bad that she had already read the rest back... Back there.
She buried the book as far as she could under her bed. Wiping off the dust of one of her older pairs of clothing, she changed. In there, she had worn her old clothes a lot, to the point where they were never washed. Now that she had other things that did not scream "him", she could finally allow herself to realize just how awful it smelled. She would have the servants wash it until it did not have even the slightest smell of dwarf.
A knock came on her door just after she changed. She nearly jumped out of her skin, but quickly composed herself. This was Mirkwood; this was home. This was not whatever that nightmare was. She unlocked the door, opening it to reveal her friend. He had not changed since the fight with the spider. His hands were held behind his back, his eyes distant.
"Hello," she said. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "What do you need?"
"Father asked me to invite you to dinner with you. He has a few things to explain to both of us."
She nodded.
"Do you need some time to prepare? I can wait a few minutes. For once he is not impatient."
"No, I am ready to go now." She walked out, closing the door behind her. Everything was the same, but everything was different. "Will there be wine?"
"He is my father; why would there not be?" He stiffened. "Wait, why would you want wine?"
She did not meet his eyes. "I need to speak to you privately. I will not drink it myself, but some of the things I want to say are things that your father should not hear."
Surprisingly, Thranduil hardly drank at all that night. It only added to the silence after he answered their questions. Tauriel's stomach was twisting into a knot. Half of her was not sure if her food would stay down. She had heard of that happening to others before, but had never thought it could happen to her. With her line of field, it was always important to stay at top health. The other half of her wanted to stuff herself, to pretend that if she ate enough she would never have to again. When she went down there again, she was sure that he would start pushing food towards her again.
"I am sorry," Thranduil said suddenly. His voice echoed throughout the hall. "I am so sorry. I am so sorry! I am so sorry!" Even if he had hardly drank, he sounded drunk.
Tauriel and Legolas listened in silence. When he finally stopped, the two got up and left. Legolas directed a servant to take him to bed.
"What did you wish to speak of?" Legolas leaned against a tree. He had his bow in one hand, a knife in the other.
She looked around for spiders, and once deemed the area safe, spoke. "He, he, Kili!" She had never said the name out loud to him before, and the event felt strange. Life changing in a way, even after everything else that had happened. "Kili, he hates you. I just want to warn you in case he ever tries something. He thinks we are, well, courting. Or more. I told him before that we are not, but I am not sure if he believed me. I do not want you getting hurt because of me."
His frown deepened. "I promise that I will keep my guard up."
"You swear?"
"By my line of rule, I swear."
Her stomach flopped inside of her chest, but one reassurance was better than none.
Kili stared up at his ceiling, listening to the people outside of his room continue their lives. No one had spoken to him since he had come back home. He had considered asking others what to do, such as Balin who had the answer to everything, or his mother Dis, who at least had some sense where his uncle Thorin did not. He had even considered speaking to his brother, but he had been unable to find him. For once, he was not angry that he was off with Ori. Fili had Ori. Kili? What did he have?
What had he been expecting? Declarations of love? Tauriel falling to tears? Forgiveness? At least something to loosen the empty feeling inside of him? Well, he was not getting any of that. All he got was the anxiety that came with waiting six months to try to put things back together? What had he been thinking? Time moved so differently where he was. Six months would feel like years. At least when she had stayed the days had passed faster, at least when she appeared to trust him. Ironically, once he observed the time, she had been there about six months before her rescue team came. Before all he wanted got taken away.
Had his uncle been correct? Should he have taken what he had and kept that for himself? What had he just agreed to?
But was it not better than nothing?
He nearly jumped five feet in the air when a knock came at his door. He quickly sat up and composed himself, then answered it. Fili stood before him, hands at his sides. He was not wearing any knit wear. Not one single scarf, mittens, or even a knit hat.
"Kili," his brother said. "I just came to check on you. How are you doing since what happened?"
"I am counting down the days." He clenched his fists as tight as he could. "I cannot wait until she comes back."
"I was wondering if you could join dinner with Uncle Thorin, Mother, Uncle Frerin, and Balin and Dwalin. Can you?"
Kili had to keep himself from nodding. "Tell Uncle Thorin that I am busy."
"What? What do you need to do now?"
Kili released his fists, pain rocketing through his hand. It was not as though it mattered; his hands would always recover. "I am busy, truly. There are arrows that I need to make."
"You can make arrows?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Yes," he said. "I learned how to do it recently. I need to keep in practice."
"And you are willing to face Uncle Thorin's wrath over this?"
His nod was firm. "Of course."