The sight of Rivendell was a welcome one to Kíli; his travels to get there had been long and lonely. He quickened his pace, noting that the on-again, off-again limp he'd been having - barely anything at all, but no doubt brought upon by the long walks each day - was gone once more. At the worst moments, as he crossed the Misty Mountains, he'd had to improvise a staff from a tree branch, but he'd been mostly alright since he left Mirkwood.
"Hello!" a voice suddenly chirped. Kíli jumped before he noticed a small head poking out from the bottom of a tree.
"Hello," Kíli replied, smiling at the young boy. "Who are you?"
"I'm Estel," the boy replied, flipping out of the tree and landing on the ground with a soft thud. "Who are you?"
"My name is Kíli, of Erebor," Kíli replied. Estel frowned at him.
"You look around my height, but you must be older than I. You are not a Man, then, nor are you an elf. Are you a dwarf?"
"Dwarrow is the proper term," Kíli corrected.
"I apologize," Estel replied, scuffing the ground slightly. "Ada did tell me that."
Kíli frowned slightly; the word was not Westron. It sounded as if it were Sindarin, but the boy was clearly not an elf. "Of whom do you speak?" he asked. Estel flushed slightly.
"Ada means Father," he replied. "My father is Lord Elrond."
"Lord Elrond?" Kíli asked, surprised. Estel shifted his weight.
"Well, not really. He is my foster father, in truth." He looked up at Kíli, interest in his eyes. "Do you know him?"
"I do," Kíli replied, nodding. "I believe he is expecting me to arrive here, in fact." Estel's eyes lit up in sudden recognition.
"You're Prince Kíli!" he cried. "I knew your name was familiar! You're the prince of Erebor! I didn't meet you and your Company when you first came here, but Elladan and Elrohir told me about you. Ada told me you were coming soon, but we didn't expect you for a few days yet."
"I made better time than I expected on my travels here," Kíli replied with a smile. "Can you lead me to Rivendell?"
"Follow me!" Estel replied, beginning to walk through the trees. "Did you really come here from Mirkwood?"
"I did spent some time in Mirkwood before arriving here, yes," Kíli replied. Estel looked impressed.
"I've always wanted to go to Mirkwood, but Ada don't often let me leave Rivendell," he complained. "He says I am too young. I am twelve years of age!" Kíli did a quick mental calculation; if his math was right, twelve years of age for a man was around fifty years of age for a dwarf. "I am not too young!"
"I was barely allowed to go on the quest to reclaim Erebor with my uncle and brother, and I was seventy-seven at the time," Kíli replied. Estel looked horrified.
"Will Ada do the same thing?" he asked in a shocked whisper. Kíli laughed.
"By Men's standards, I was around eighteen years old. Dwarrows age differently than Men. You need not worry that Lord Elrond will wait sixty-five years before allowing you freedom."
"But he will wait for years yet," Estel muttered. "I don't want to wait. I want to have adventures, like Elladan and Elrohir. Like you!"
"There were times on my adventures when I wished bitterly that I had stayed home," Kíli replied mildly. Estel looked at him with wide, surprised eyes.
"Truly?"
"I was injured badly by an orc," Kíli replied, his fingers unconsciously brushing his leg. "When I was in pain, I wished I had remained in Ered Luin with my mother. Adventures are not all fun and games, Estel. They can be dangerous. Lord Elrond is quite right in not allowing you to have them yet."
"But I want to go on adventures!" Estel protested. "And I'll be careful if I do! Ada doesn't even let me go on little adventures with Elladan and Elrohir. He made me stay behind when he went to fight in Erebor, even though I wanted to help. I know how to fight!"
"I'm sure you do," Kíli replied, trying to hide the amusement in his tone. "While I am here, we may spar together. I may be able to help you improve your swordsmanship."
"You'll teach me?" Estel gasped, his eyes huge. "Really?"
"It would bring me great pleasure," Kíli replied, nodding. "Of course, my duties will come first, as will yours, but when we are both free, I would love to teach you everything I know."
"I can't wait!" Estel cried. Immediately, he attempted to school his expression, doing a fairly poor job of it, and corrected himself. "I mean, that sounds good. Thank you."
"Be as excited as you wish. I believe that hiding your excitement only causes it to truly lessen over time, and what is life worth if you cannot get excited?" Kíli replied. Estel's grin slowly returned to its previous size.
"I'm very excited," he admitted. Kíli grinned and ruffled his hair.
"As am I," he replied. Estel laughed and darted forward, running off. Kíli followed him, racing down the path to Rivendell.
"Prince Kíli." Kíli jumped when he suddenly noticed Elrond, an amused smirk on his face, in the path in front of him. Estel ran to his side, bouncing on his heels. "I see you have met my foster son, Estel."
"A wonderful boy. I'm sure you're very proud of him," Kíli replied. Elrond inclined his head.
"Of course we are," he replied. Bending to speak to Estel, he softly added something in Sindarin. Estel frowned, retorting in the same tongue. Elrond's next words were spoken cajolingly, causing Estel's face to light up.
"Bye, Kíli!" he called, waving as he ran off. Kíli laughed.
"What did you promise him?" he asked.
"I sent him off to Elladan and Elrohir. When he protested, I told him that they would help him improve his archery. He's insistent upon improving such skills."
"I have already promised to give him lessons in swordplay," Kíli admitted. Elrond's lips twitched into a tiny smile.
"It can be difficult to refuse Estel anything."
"Who is he?" Kíli asked in a soft voice, looking around first to make sure no one else was there. "I cannot imagine that you would foster just any young boy."
"His true name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. He is the true Chieftain of the Dúnedain and the Rangers of the North, and the heir to the throne of Gondor," Elrond replied in an equally quiet voice. Kíli felt his eyes go wide.
"There has not been a king of Gondor in nearly nine hundred years!" he protested. "How can you be sure that the boy is the heir?"
"He is," Elrond replied simply, as if elves knew that sort of thing inherently. For all Kíli knew, perhaps they did. "But I have not yet told him. His mother asked me not to, as she feared for his life if the truth were well known. He knows only the name Estel. I have decided to tell him the truth of his heritage when he reaches twenty years old."
"He may resent you for keeping such things from him," Kíli warned.
"That is a price I will gladly pay for his safety," Elrond replied. "The boy is not my son, but he is dear to me. I will do all that I can to keep him safe."
Kíli nodded. "Does anyone else know?"
"I do, as does most of my household," Elrond replied. "And you, now, as well."
"No one else?" Kíli confirmed. Elrond shook his head.
"I do not believe so. I have told no one else of his lineage."
"The king of Gondor," Kíli muttered under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. "The line goes cold for nine hundred years, and then the heir to the throne greets me hanging upside-down out of a tree."
"How is it you know so much about the legacy of Gondor?" Elrond asked. Kíli scoffed.
"My uncle is the king of Erebor. He made it his business to know the details of every other ruling family in Middle Earth, no matter their race. He always thought the disappearance of the heir of Isildur was strange. I suppose I am not to tell him that the missing heir resides in Rivendell?"
"No," Elrond replied sternly. "Do not speak of it with any here except myself, Elladan, and Elrohir. It is not common knowledge, and for the boy's safety, it cannot be."
"I would never dream of compromising his safety," Kíli swore. "I like the lad already."
"As do most who meet him," Elrond replied, a smile on his face. It was wiped away an instant later. "I shall have someone lead you to your chambers before we speak any more, Prince Kíli." Elrond snapped his fingers once, prompting Lindir to appear out of nowhere. Elrond ordered him to do something in Sindarin, to which Lindir replied with a nod and a bow.
"Prince Kíli, allow me to escort you to your chambers," he stated, bowing again to Kíli and beginning to walk through Rivendell. Kíli followed him, looking around the halls with wide eyes. He hadn't found his way into that area of Rivendell the last time he'd visited; he wondered where exactly he was in relation to the places he'd seen before.
"I hope the room will be to your liking. If you require anything at all, it will be provided for you," Lindir stated as he stopped before a door, opening it for Kíli.
"Thank you, Lindir," Kíli replied, stepping inside. Lindir bowed and closed the door.
The room was far grander than the one Kíli had used in Mirkwood, although it still had a sort of elegant simplicity that Kíli noticed elsewhere in Rivendell. Everything seemed to be naturally made; the furniture looked to be grown straight out of the walls. Kíli changed his clothes, splashing crystalline water on his face before rebraiding his hair and arranging his circlet carefully. When he was fairly certain he looked presentable, he left the room only to find that Lindir was still standing outside.
"I will lead you to Lord Elrond, if that is to your liking," he told Kíli, who nodded and gestured grandly.
"Lead away," he replied.
The room Lindir took him to was vaguely familiar; Kíli thought he might have seen it during his first visit to Rivendell. Elrond was already seated, although he stood when Kíli entered.
"Prince Kíli. I hope you find your room to be suitable?"
"Very much so," Kíli replied, bowing. "Thank you, Lord Elrond." Elrond gestured to a chair and Kíli sat.
"To tell the truth, we do not have much to discuss," Elrond stated as he too sat down. Kíli frowned slightly.
"Will Elladan and Elrohir join our negotiations?" he asked. Elrond's lips twitched into the tiniest of smiles.
"They have been invited to do so, but I do not think they will," he replied. "They care little for matters of diplomacy."
"I cannot blame them," Kíli muttered. Elrond's smile grew minutely.
"I trust that your uncle holds the truce between us as dear as I myself do," he remarked, beginning their negotiations.
"King Thorin holds our truce very dear," Kíli replied, nodding. "He will not break it easily. King Thranduil had some complaints about the stability of it, however. I believe he thinks it to be too weak for his liking."
"And how does he intend to strengthen it?" Elrond asked, arching an eyebrow. Kíli shrugged.
"I believe he wishes for me to wed the Lady Tauriel, his ward and my beloved, so we may have a legal bond between us," he replied. Elrond's eyes narrowed.
"Do you wish to marry?" he asked. Kíli shrugged.
"We have not spoken of it before. Perhaps we will someday, but I do not think myself to be prepared for it now. I rather dislike pomp and circumstance, and our wedding would be full of it. Nor do I wish for all of Erebor to become involved in our private life, as they would during and after a wedding."
"It is not the elven way to force marriage upon those who do not wish it," Elrond murmured, frowning. "I fear Thranduil has forgotten himself and his culture. Has he said why he wishes for the truce to strengthen?"
"He does not trust dwarrows," Kíli replied, shrugging. "He has no love for my kind. He has his reasons to dislike and distrust us, of course, but we have equal reason to dislike and distrust him. But he is not quite so subtle as he thinks himself to be; I could tell that he truly believes that my uncle will do something to break our truce. As far as I know, King Thorin has no plans to do such a thing, nor would he wish to."
"It would be a foolish movie, and despite what your king has done, I do not think him to be especially foolish," Elrond replied. Kíli forced himself not to bristle at the words; he knew that Elrond was right in implying that Thorin could be foolish at times. The incidents with the gold sickness immediately came to mind. Taking those into account, Kíli couldn't help but admit that Thorin could sometimes be a bit of an idiot.
"I do not think him to be so either. And even if he desired to move against Mirkwood for whatever reason, as unlikely as it is, I am certain that he could be persuaded against it." If Thorin ever planned to attack Mirkwood, Kíli would do whatever it took to stop him. His interference probably wouldn't be necessary, however; Balin would stop him from doing something so politically stupid first.
"A marriage between a dwarrow and an elf, if done of your own free will, would be a positive sign to both my people and yours," Elrond stated. "But elves do not arrange marriages for the unwilling, and never for political reasons. If Thranduil attempts to make any move towards forcing you and Lady Tauriel into such a match, I swear to help you defend yourselves against him.
"I do not know that we would require your aid, but I will remember your words," Kíli replied, inclining his head deeply. Elrond was about to say something else when the door burst open.
"Kíli!" Elladan and Elrohir shoved their way into the room, Estel following them. "Estel here told us you'd arrived," Elrohir told him. "Oh, come now, Ada, you weren't planning on forcing him to talk of boring negotiations from the instant he arrived, were you?"
"I ought to have known better than to try and keep him from you," Elrond replied, amusement clear in his voice. "If you have no objections, Prince Kíli, we can continue this discussion later. I believe my sons desire your presence."
"I will be glad to bestow it upon them," Kíli replied, standing and bowing to Elrond. Elladan put a hand on Kíli's shoulder and steered him out of the room.
"Kíli, this is quite unacceptable," he stated sternly, although he was smiling widely. "The next time you visit Rivendell, you must meet with us before anyone else. Meeting Estel first is forgivable, considering you saw him before you even reached us, but after that you should have come to find us immediately, not sat with our boring father to discuss boring negotiations."
"I should have known better than to slight you in that way," Kíli quipped back. "It will not happen again."
"It had better not," Elladan replied solemnly. Then he laughed and tousled Kíli's hair. "It's good to see you again."
"You as well," Kíli replied, grinning at Elladan and Elrohir. "Now, I must tell you, Legolas has asked me that I not cause too much trouble for Lord Elrond while I am here."
"What a shame," Elrohir replied, shaking his head sadly.
"We had a great plan!" Estel piped up. "We were going to-"
"Estel, if he is not to make trouble, he cannot join us in our fun," Elladan interrupted. Estel's face fell.
"I do not believe I ever said anything about agreeing with Legolas," Kíli added. Estel's face lit up again immediately. Elladan and Elrohir laughed.
"We'll have a marvelous time!" Estel cried. Kíli couldn't help but laugh.
"Yes, I believe we shall."
Estel was the name that Aragorn went by when he lived in Rivendell, where he stayed from the age of two until he came of age and Elrond told him the truth about his heritage. He would have been about 12 at this point, as this fic takes place in year 2943 of the third age (a year and a half after the Battle of Five Armies in TA 2941) and Aragorn was born in TA 2931. (As an aside, Aragorn didn't use the name "Strider" until at least fifteen years after the Battle of Five Armies, making Thranduil's suggestion that Legolas search for Strider at the end of the third movie a bit anachronistic.) Calculation of dwarf ages, as always, makes the assumption that the dwarf equivalent of 18 is 75 (more details are in the end notes of the second chapter of All Will Be Well.