Chapter 11

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A/N: So this one ended up being exclusively about Kili's Company; I promise we'll get back to Fili and Erebor in the next chapter, but it was just too long!

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Kíli's Company managed to reach Duillond early the morning after Bilbo left them. Dis' missive had said Rognus and Gimli would await them at the Inn there, so that was the first place they went.

Duillond was something of an oddity among cities in Middle Earth; in good part because though it had been built by the elves, it was almost equally settled by elves and dwarves. For two races that had never really gotten along well, it was something of a challenge to manage living together without fights breaking out—a well-trained system of Enforcers worked with a City Council that consisted of both races to keep everyone in line.

Not that it was often necessary; the dwarves of Ered Luin were generally less caustic than their kin, and the elves of Ered Luin less pompous than some of theirs. Add to that the thriving trade and the peaceful hobbits that often visited from the Shire to contribute their business to the town; and no one was really eager to start any fights, as Duillond's continued welfare was a mutually beneficial thing for all parties involved.

Kíli couldn't help but smile as he rode through familiar streets. Both his and Fíli's first real trips away from home had been to Duillond to help their Uncle trade forged weapons and goods. The two had been relatively well-known amongst the dwarves there; and they had not forgotten him evidently, as many of them waved and called greetings, some bowing, as he rode by.

He returned the greetings and smiles, thrilled to be back in familiar territory.

However eager he was to reach his mother, though; all of Kili's folk, including himself, needed a hot bath and a bed to sleep in. Not to mention something to eat that wasn't cooked over a fire. And replenished supplies.

In other words, a day in town followed by a night in a bed was definitely in order.

Kíli let Telchar take care of room arrangements and Farin the ponies once they reached the Inn, while he looked around for his cousin and his friend. He was certain he'd recognize Gimli's red head just about anywhere…

There.

His face broke out into an involuntary smile as he spied Rognus and Gimli sitting on stools beside the road, caring for their weapons.

"Would you look at that?" he teased lightly as he approached. "Just as I left you, even if it is in a different town."

"Kíli!" Gimli jumped up and embraced him hard. "Where's my da?"

"At the inn, lad, itching to see you."

Gimli ran off, and Kili grinned.

His shieldbrother faced him, smiling past the look of sheer relief in his eyes. He drew Kíli's forehead to his and murmured, "We feared the worst."

He didn't have to say anymore, and Kíli just buried his fingers in Rognus' dark hair and settled into the dwarven embrace. "I am sorry, my friend, we sent word first chance we could."

The Prince pulled back. "Is everyone well?"

Rognus grinned. "Your mother is all but wearing a hole in her carpet with impatience to see you, Anora is as feisty as ever and fending off suitors, and Sêla is still her quiet and gentle self. Things have been, on the whole, much quieter since you left, my Prince."

"Ha! I wish I could say the same. And it's Kíli, Rognus; we've been friends for far too long to stand on ceremony."

"You must tell me everything," Rognus continued, throwing an arm round Kíli's shoulders as they made their way back to the Inn.

Kili caught sight of Ryn and motioned her over. "Well, to start, the most important thing that happened was that I found a lass willing to tolerate me." Ryn had arrived and smiled at Kili.

"Ryn, my shieldbrother Rognus. Rognus, my intended, Lady Deorynn."

Ryn turned her smile on the quiet lad and bowed, hand over her heart. "Master Rognus, it is a pleasure indeed!"

For his part, Rognus studied the lass before him. Her manners were good, at least. Her eyes bespoke kindness balanced by wisdom, an eagerness to help balanced by maturity, and most of all, love in abundance. He bowed back, flashed her a small smile to see how she would respond.

It was returned enthusiastically, and Rognus' heart lifted.

He could not wish anything less than the very best for Kíli, and perhaps this lass was it.

That night was spent in cheerful company, as Kili's crew rested and enjoyed a hot meal in the main room of the Inn. Gimli and Gloin were deep in their pints already, their joy at being reunited spilling over into a general cheerfulness that was unusual for the normally short-tempered redheads. Telchar, Farin, and even Ibón were thoroughly enjoying the sight; pulling out instruments when the singing started and beginning a lively dance tune. Rognus, flushed and bolder than usual with the ale in his veins, bowed to Raela and asked for a dance. Blushing madly, the lass accepted, and they whirled together on the wood floor.

Kíli smiled at the proceedings and held out his own hand to Ryn. She winked at him, and they danced until neither of them could breathe and they had to sit before they fell.

Kíli watched her, flushed, skin glowing, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her eyes were alight with joy, her lips parted in a smile that he wanted nothing more than to press his mouth against.

And she let him, when she turned that smile on him and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. He turned his head and caught her mouth, claiming it possessively as she hummed contentedly.

Catcalls and whistles had the lass pulling back, bright red now as the cheery, inebriated dwarves around them called out all sorts of suggestions that were probably less than proper. Kíli barely heard them, grinning at Ryn and tugging her back to him by her braids.

"All right, all right, you two!" Rognus yelled as he staggered back to the table. "Keep it safe for public viewing, yeah?"

Kíli punched his shoulder as he sat, nearly pushing the tipsy dwarf onto the floor. "You're just jealous, Rognus."

The hazel-eyed dwarf winked at Raela, who blushed again, biting her lip. "Hardly," he responded to Kíli with a wink.

The next morning, Kili's Company departed rather later than they originally planned; and Ryn discovered that she actually could indeed heal a hangover using her magic.

She grinned at the thought of what Galaron would say to that.

The next two days of travel were ridiculously pleasant, Ryn thought. Rognus, and even Gimli, accepted Aran almost without question—evidently the Rangers had quite the reputation even in Ered Luin—and Ryn was quite sure Raela was entirely smitten with Kili's shieldbrother. Plus, the addition of young Gimli to their group had improved Gloin's mood to the point Ryn barely recognized him as the surly, grouchy dwarf who'd called her a coward the first time he met her.

On the whole, Ryn thought happily as she rode beside Raela on the third day out of Duillond, it felt like the worst was behind them.

"Well," Kili shut the flap to the tent door as he entered; blocking, at least a little bit, the biting wind and blowing snow outside. "It would seem we've landed ourselves smack in the midst of a blizzard."

"Are the ponies well?" Raela asked. The Prince nodded. "Safely tied under that big pine, next to Telchar and the fire."

Ryn shared a look with Aran that Kili didn't miss. "What is it?" he asked quietly, sitting down beside her and rubbing his hands together to warm them. She drew his cold fingers between her warm ones, turning to face him and leaning in so the others in their small tent wouldn't hear.

"This is no normal blizzard, Kili," she murmured. He stared. "What makes you say that?"

"You don't live in the wilderness for fifty years without knowing something about weather patterns," she answered, green eyes dark in the dim firelight. "There were no warning signs of this storm."

Kili, while he trusted her, still didn't see what was unusual about this. "Ryn, it's February. In the mountains of Ered Luin. In the north. A blizzard is hardly uncalled for."

"Perhaps not, but this one came on unnaturally," she shook her head. "I don't pretend to know what it means, if anything."

Kili cocked an eyebrow. "Then I suppose we'll just stay alert. Hopefully it'll stop snowing; I'm not thrilled at the idea of any more delays."

Ryn smiled a little at that. "Hankering to see your mother, are you?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," Kili laughed. Ryn's smile tightened; and she looked down, studying his hands, intertwining their fingers restlessly.

"Do—do you think she'll like me?"

Kili blinked in surprise at the question; for indeed, it had never even been a question at all in his mind. But, he realized, it was hardly surprising Ryn felt insecure about the meeting.

It wasn't as if she'd had parents to bring a lad home to, after all. And even if she had, how could she possibly have known what to expect from Dis, Daughter of Thrain?

He smiled and tilted her chin up, drawing her in for a chaste kiss—there were others in the tent, after all—and whispered, "Ryn, she will love you."

"How do you—?"

But Ryn's question was interrupted by a cry of alarm from Telchar that drew everyone out into the blowing snow. The Iron Hills lieutenant was running toward them, waving his arms and shouting, though no one could hear him over the wind—wind which Kili just realized had gotten louder, taking on a new, more sinister sound. It seemed to him there were whispers on it, gentle stirrings that spoke of evil and cruelty.

He hadn't realized he was covering his ears until Ryn drew his hand away and shouted in his ear, "What are you doing?! Get inside, there are wolves!"

I can fight wolves! He wanted to shout; but the odd whispers started again, and the fact that Ryn (and the others) clearly didn't hear them made Kíli leery.

So despite his anger at the necessity of staying put, he ducked back inside—but only to grab his sword. He stood guard over their small shelter, in which Raela—who, handmaiden or not, was still a dwarf lass and therefore, to be protected—hunkered down, armed with her dagger but not running out into the fray.

He hardly blamed her; the lass was no warrior.

Kíli.

He blinked against the snow, and in surprise. His name landed on his ears gently, carried by the harsh wind.

Kíli, Son of Dis, Prince of Durin's Line.

Uncertain where the source of the voice was, he turned a full three-hundred sixty degrees, studying his surroundings with a practiced eye. The wind chuckled.

I am not out there, young one. I am inside.

"Inside where?" Kíli questioned aloud, eyes still darting about. To his left, a spark of light appeared. Kíli stared as it elongated and stretched, grew larger, finally morphing into a bipedal, humanoid figure. Slowly, features came into focus—blue eyes that seemed to glow from within; a long, straight nose; regal bearing; long blond hair. The figure was dressed in sparkling mithril armor, as if for war, and wielded a long sword and a bow. He was impossibly tall as well; but somehow non-threatening.

Kíli lowered his sword, just a little.

Inside your head, Prince. You may speak to me in your thoughts.

-Who are you?-

I am the Acceptor of the Rejected, the Balm for the Hurting, the One Who Sees. I render strength to the weak, make the small do impossible deeds, and draw all to me with power and might.

-That doesn't answer my question.-

The figure before him smiled, fixing him with its deep blue gaze. Most astute, Son of Durin. I am here because you need me.

-Is that so?- Kili was liking the figure less and less as the moments passed, though he could hardly explain why. There was nothing threatening about him; on the contrary, he was a Being of Light, and most probably one of the Valar, or at least a Maia, perhaps.

Still, he prevaricated a bit much for Kíli's taste.

It is. The figure looked serious now, sad even. You have recently acquired a wound that will affect you for the rest of your life, young Kili, and you're just beginning to note the repercussions of it. I can help you—I can remove the pain, give back the power and strength this wound aims to take from you.

Kili blinked, his interest well and truly piqued. He'd only recently begun to come to terms with his morgul scar—and accepting his inability to do certain things was eating at him, no doubt—so the offer very definitely appealed to him.

Still, something whispered to him not to trust a seemingly innocuous source simply because it looked non-threatening.

-And what must I give you in return?-

Another laugh. In return? Nothing! Only your loyalty, your friendship.

-Loyalty is earned, not given in exchange for favors.-

There was a flash of something in the blue eyes—quick, but Kili felt, dangerous. His heart thumped in his chest, but he carefully kept any outward sign of his alarm hidden. Mahal, protect me, he prayed silently.

Indeed it is, the voice in his head continued smoothly, though slightly colder than before. And is not rendering moot a wound that will have lifelong effect on you enough to earn such loyalty?

-It depends upon what you stand for. I'll not pledge unconditional loyalty to any but my King and Brother, and that's been done already.-

Will you not? Ryn's face rose in Kíli's mind. Have you not already pledged yourself to this one?

A low growl escaped Kíli's throat, unbidden. –Leave her out of this.-

Ahhhh, so you have. The blue eyes darkened to black while Kíli watched. He distantly heard shouting and looked around, only then realizing he hadn't looked away from the figure since they began talking.

His Company was fighting wolves—big wolves, with glowing red eyes and dripping fangs—and a picture flashed through his mind of Ryn being torn apart by them.

They are holding back, the figure spoke again, and this time he seemed to Kili not a figure of light, but one of evil and malice; his hair as black as his eyes and set against scarred skin, mouth twisted cruelly into a smirk, sword dripping with dark red blood. They will kill her instantly if I allow them to.

Kili felt his world close in. –And I suppose that is the price for my refusal to cooperate?-

You really are astute.

-Who are you?- Kili asked again. This time, the Dark One smiled, the gesture twisted and cruel on his face.

My name is Morgoth, in the tongue of the Elves, though I was first called Melkor when I had a place among the Valar. I have come for you, Kili, son of Dis; the morgul poison that rests in your veins makes you mine as surely as your beloved is descended of the Eiri. You will join me, Prince of Durin; if not now, later, when life's bitter cup has left you broken and everything you love has been ripped away. I will have you; and until I have you, I will haunt every step you take.

-No.-

Ryn screamed in the distance, but Kili found himself unable to look away from the cruelty in Melkor's eyes. –No, you'll not have me. You tried once before and failed, remember? You'll fail again!-

Melkor screamed his rage, reaching for the morgul poison so recently subdued in the dwarf prince's blood; Kíli doubled over, indescribable pain lancing out from his leg and into every nerve in his body. He was on fire, every bit of him burning; the poison clawing its way into his mind.

He ripped his focus from the dark Vala before him and looked around for his companions, choking on his cry for help. Ryn was fighting her way toward him, her eyes impossibly wide with terror; but he couldn't get to her as she was beset by five of the Beasts. Melkor boomed something in the Black Speech and the creatures redoubled their efforts to tear his beloved apart.

He fought, his eyes never leaving hers in those few moments that seemed to stretch into an eternity. He saw her realize she couldn't reach him; saw the fear spark into furious determination, saw her eyes light and her skin seem to glow—he recognized it as her magic, though he'd never seen it like this before—and he heard her shriek of rage.

Kíli struggled, breaking free of Melkor's grasp just as, in quick succession, a wild explosion and booming light struck their campsite, sufficiently weakening the Dark One long enough for Kíli to stumble toward Ryn, knowing he had only minutes before the poison took its toll.

Ryn could not believe what was happening. The massive figure that held Kili's attention was terrifying, and what was worse, she had no idea how to help him. The wolves were keeping her too busy to get near him, no matter her best efforts.

"Aran!" she called for her friend's aid. If he could help her beat off the wolves, perhaps she could get to Kili.

She recognized the Ranger's war cry before she saw him, and they fought together briefly; back to back, kicking, slashing, stabbing. Ryn's daggers whirled and whistled through the air, a fierce counterpoint to Aran's ringing blade.

One of the red-eyed creatures darted past her guard on the left and caught her arm in its jaws briefly. Ryn yelped in pain, but killed it half a second later.

Unfortunately, her cry had distracted Aran for half a second too long.

The biggest wolf of the lot saw its chance; it jumped, careening into the Man and knocking him to the ground while getting its jaws around his throat. Ryn barely had time to react before it sunk its teeth into his neck and yanked, growling. The girl's dagger found the wolf's skull a moment later.

But it was a moment too late.

Ryn screamed her agony at the sight of her friend's ruined throat—Aran was a good man, one of the few she'd trusted after Urízir, after everything; he was her friend. Perhaps, given time, she could have healed him as she'd done Kíli, though the Prince's wound had at least been a clean slice, not a ragged tear…

She didn't have time. The wolves were upon her again, and one missed move would have her joining Aran in the afterlife. She looked around, trying to see if there would be any more deaths to mourn tonight, and was grimly pleased to note everyone else was still up fighting.

Whatever small joy the sight afforded her was forgotten a moment later when the Dark….Thing…that held Kíli roared in fury, and Ryn turned to see her beloved's face contorted in pain, his aura darkening quickly.

Too quickly.

She fought her way toward him, but it was like one of her nightmares: no matter how many of the evil wolves she killed, no matter how fast she ran; she couldn't get to him. The creatures had long since abandoned the rest of the Company, focused instead on tearing Ryn to pieces. She was holding on, for now, but it was only a matter of time before she stumbled, or missed, or overshot…

A determination she'd never known filled her, and she had a split second to wonder at the feeling before every wolf around her dropped dead, and Ryn found herself holding a whole lot of energy she had no idea what to do with.

For a second.

She grinned, and threw the magic at the evil thing that had Kíli, the resulting explosion garnering a roar of pain from the creature; mere moments before she found herself facedown in the snow, gasping for air and blinking at the spots in her vision.

Stunning spell?

Gandalf.

She jumped to her feet, only to see the wizard already engaged in some sort of battle with the Dark One. Light and Darkness flashed and thundered against one another, creating a cacophony of sight and sound that was a bit disorienting. Ryn shook it off; Gandalf seemed to be winning, and she turned her attention to Kili.

"Raela!" she screamed. "Athelas!"

She vaguely saw the lass duck into the tent, but Ryn only had eyes for Kíli. He was writhing in pain—a sight Ryn had to admit she'd seen more of than she ever wanted to—gasping for air as he fought the poison yet again.

"Come on, love, hang tight. We're going to get you out of this. Just hold on as long as you can. Another minute, now…"

"There's no boiling water!" Raela gasped as she slid to her knees at Kíli's side. Ryn didn't take the time to explain; merely chewed the herb into a thick pasty mess before pressing it to Kíli's leg.

It was much the same as last time; Kíli's cries of agony, Ryn's gentle mutterings of the Eiri spell that would preserve his life, and with the added noise and percussion of the battle that continued between the Vala and the wizard.

With a final haunting scream, Melkor disappeared into the night, taking the blizzard winds and clouds with him. Ryn lifted her gaze from Kíli just long enough to see Gandalf sigh in relief, bowing his head to his chest in exhaustion for a moment.

"Ryn?" Kíli murmured her name, fevered and weak though he was. Satisfied the poison had been tamed for now, Ryn gathered some energy from the surrounding plants (and a few rodents) and transferred it to her beloved.

His eyes popped open and he sat bolt upright.

"Is everyone all right?"

No.

Ryn sat back on her heels, her gaze finding the body of her friend again. Without a word, she stood and walked on shaky legs to Aran, heedless of the others—greeting Gandalf, whispering the news of the Ranger's death, calling for her.

She fell to her knees beside his mangled body; apparently a few of the wolves had continued their assault even after Aran stopped fighting. Tears blurred much of the damage, though, and if she tried hard enough, she could almost pretend he was simply sleeping.

Almost.

She heard a soft wail of grief and was distantly aware it came from her, but she couldn't bring herself to care that she wasn't alone, that others could hear her.

Aran was dead.

Her protector, her friend, the one who'd kept her from making the biggest mistake of her life; gone, permanently.

Ryn curled in on herself, her head coming to rest on the Man's still, cold chest as she cried out her anguish.

You can find art prompts for this chapter (and sorta a teaser for the next one) on My Hobbit AU! Board on Pinterest (google River Steele Pinterest and you'll find it).