How dare you?
Not counting the brief sigh of relief upon Fíli's assurance that he hadn't been hurt, those were the first words Kíli spoke, or rather spat at Fíli after being released from the rope binding him to the anvil. Fíli barely had the chance to relay the information and Wharin's proposition before Kíli went off in a frustrated fury, shouting profanities and swinging fists at inanimate objects in the room.
Only now fully realizing how the full extent of the implications of the arrangement he had with Wharin – a man, and a friend of their captor's – Fíli was frantically trying to rephrase and to explain to his brother that they had no other choice.
"He is going to kill us coming spring, Kíli! He is going to leave us locked in here to starve to rid himself of us when we are of no further use to him!" he shouted at Kíli who was now at the other side of the room, pacing up and down the length of the wall, dragging his chains behind him, with his hands buried in his hair, smiling some kind of twisted grimace at the floor.
"Please, Kíli! Listen to me! He will help us – he is going to let us go once he knows what happened to his sister. He said-"
"You can't possibly know that! You don't know anything about this man! How do you know if he can be trusted? How can you!"
Knowing that their shouting match will no doubt draw attention soon, Fíli took a few calming breaths and leaned back against the table's edge, pinching the bridge of his nose while he fought to find the right words.
"You are right," he finally sighed. "I don't know Wharin and I cannot be sure that he will keep his word, but here is what I do know. I know Kerán and I know that he will stop at nothing to get what he wants and that he is of little conscience of what will happen to us afterward. Don't you see? This may be our last chance – our only chance – at getting out of here alive."
"Thorin will come!"
"But when – and what is he going to find? Two dwarven corpses?" Fíli pointed in the direction of the taboo bundle of bones under the counter. We cannot fight ourselves out of this one, Kee. This is the price that we must pay."
"That I must pay!" Kíli shouted, slamming his fist into his own chest. "You don't know what it is like. To feel him touching you…" He crumbled to the floor, looking as broken and defeated as Fíli had ever seen him, shaking his head miserably.
With a heart leaden with the pain he felt as deeply as his own, Fíli went to kneel at his brother's side, enveloping him in a pseudo-embrace with a careful arm.
"Believe me, brother, that I will not forgive myself as long as I live, but I will not live with myself if I let you die."
-o0o-
The bleak winter morning dawned later than usual. The pouch with the herbs had been hidden away along with the precious jewel beneath the floor stones. It had required a great deal of self-restraint on Fíli's part to not risk a glimpse at the beautiful gem again as he had gently placed the leather on top of it.
Kíli had opted for taking out his frustrations on the battered metal at the forge again and Fíli could only pray that the knives they had handed to Wharin the previous day had found their way to the market stalls of Bree, and hopefully into the light of sight of someone who might recognise their markings.
When the farmer finally came around at about midday with water and their rations, the overall mood between the brothers had quieted down to a purposeful silence. There was not much to be said and even if there was, Fíli wouldn't risk chipping at Kíli's already fragile resolve. It was snowing outside now, and the blast of icy wind upon opening the door sent chills down the dwarves' spines for more than the usual reason.
"Afternoon," he greeted softly, placing the now familiar tray on the table behind Kíli who was still working at the forge – having not even looked up to acknowledge Kerán's presence.
Fíli watched with a growing sense of dread as he saw his brother tighten his grip on the hammer…only to relax a moment after, setting the hammer down and slowly turning to face the farmer.
A brief pause, then, "Hello."
Kerán seemed every bit as shocked as how Fíli felt, but he composed himself in time – taking his plate and taking a few steps back to eat, standing a little bit further away than he normally would have when the farmer was speaking to Kíli, heart silently racing.
Kíli looked down at his own plate still on the tray. "You made this?" he asked, indicating the portion of venison pie, surrounded by cooked vegetables.
Kerán seemed confused for a moment, only to answer, "Y-yes, I did. Shot it only yesterday morning."
"Looks good," Kíli nodded kindly. "Thank you."
Kerán didn't seem to have a reply to this and could only stammer out a 'you're welcome' as Kíli started to eat as well, deliberately slowly. It was almost comical the way Kerán flinched back when Kíli finally made eye contact halfway through his meal.
"Looks like winter is truly upon us now, isn't it?" he asked casually, taking another bite of his food, and licking his lips with, what was rather convincingly, sociable interest.
"Ah-h, yes, it is indeed," Kerán replied, raising his eyebrows at the swirling flakes of snow drifting in front of the high windows above them. Soon enough, his eyes drifted back to Kíli, openly staring at the dwarf who seemed totally comfortable with the farmer having now taken two slow steps closer to sit on the tabletop beside him.
"Are you warm enough in here?" Kerán asked with genuine concern lining his features. Relief flooded through Fíli – knowing that the farmer seemed to have fallen for Kíli's act.
"The fire keeps us warm enough, thank you." Kíli managed a small smile when he glanced up at the man.
"You must tell me if you need anything. I will get you anything you need."
Kíli paused his eating. "You are kind. I didn't realize this before, but you are. Kind," he said in a contemplating tone. "You never meant to hurt me. I was foolish, I'm sorry."
"Of course not," Kerán leaned forward, placing a hesitant hand on Kíli's should. "I would never willingly … hurt you, in any way."
"Everything I need is right here," Kíli said meaningfully, taking the final bite.
-o0o-
Kerán slammed the farmhouse door behind him upon entering from the frigid outside, feeling remarkably warm himself. He threw the tray into the wash basin and stormed down the hallway to his bedroom where he had some urgent business to take into his own hands, right past the large main bedroom door which had not been opened for a very, very long time.
TBC