Thank you as ever to all my lovely reviewers, I'm glad you enjoyed! And I would like to assure everyone that no kittens were harmed or will be harmed in the making of this fic :)
I hope you enjoy this little chapter, it's dedicated to Borys68 who wanted to have Galadriel read the moon runes, I hope I did it justice :)
Anyways as ever forgive me my mistakes and Read, Enjoy, And Review!
Chapter Fourteen # Moon Runes and Memories #
Thorin Oakenshield could not wait to leave Rivendell.
The elves made him wary despite Elrond's hospitality and Kíli's apparent growing admiration of the 'fair folk' was just plain unacceptable. As Elrond led him up through the valley to a precocious ledge behind a waterfall with Gandalf and Balin, anticipation grew in Thorin's stomach.
Soon they would know the secrets his father and grandfather had concealed, and as soon as they knew that, they could leave. To Thorin's surprise, an elven lady emerged from the path behind them as if she had been there all along and followed them onto the ledge as if she was supposed to be there.
He dared not speak against her, however; there was an aura of power and justice about her that not even Thorin Oakenshield could deny, and he gave a very short bow.
She inclined her head with a reserved smile. "Greetings, Thorin Oakenshield. I am Lady Galadriel."
Thorin bowed his head, confused by the familiarity in Balin's eyes as his old friend also bowed to the woman.
"Lady Galadriel has offered to read the moon runes for us." Gandalf explained, and Thorin nodded shortly, passing the elf the map. A part of him wondered why Elrond would not read the map himself, but the wizard seemed to have figured it out with the elves, and any humour he would get out of being his usual stubborn self would today be tainted by the knowledge that the only one he would be delaying would be himself.
As proud and noble as he was, he would not begrudge this woman the respect that her beauty and demeanour seemed to demand, so he listened quietly as she announced in a grave voice.
"Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's day will shine upon the keyhole." Her voice trailed off impressively, and Thorin looked at Balin.
"Summer is passing, Durin's day will soon be upon us."
"We still have time." Balin assured him, his old eyes shining with hope.
Though he was a little confused, Thorin was reassured by the optimism pouring from Balin - a self-confessed doubter in the quest's ability to succeed and he nodded.
"We shall leave at first light tomorrow." Thorin informed Lord Elrond, before forcing another sentence from his own stubborn mouth. "Thank you for your aid, Lady Galadriel, and for your hospitality, Lord Elrond."
The elven lord inclined his head, an amused smile gracing his face. "You are welcome. I do not condone your quest, but nevertheless I do not seek to prevent you from following your chosen path."
Thorin bowed his head again and the small group began to move away down the stairs, and the king-in-exile grew aware of the elven lady staring at him.
He met her glance with stubborn eyes that quickly surrendered themselves to stare resolutely at the pedestal still glimmering in the moonlight and he cursed himself. If father were to see me averting my gaze from an elf like a shy woman…
"If this quest is to succeed, Thorin, son of Thráin, you will need to protect your people from many dangers, but most of all from yourself."
Thorin's head instantly snapped up at the woman's calm words, defensive anger flaring in his gut.
"I do not know what you mean." He hissed, and her expression hardly changed at all.
"You know of what I speak. The dragon-sickness runs through your veins, and unless you continue to value the lives of your kin above golden riches, you will lose those you hold most dear. I have foreseen it." The woman's face did not move a single muscle – her expression and even her lips remained still as words filled Thorin's head as clearly as if she had shouted.
Chills shot down Thorin's spine but he shook his head, unwilling to have an elf dictate his future. "I will not fall victim to the same fate of my father and grandfather."
"I sincerely hope that you do not, for it shall be to the ruin of many if you do. To prevent yourself from succumbing you must not overestimate your own strength, nor underestimate the strength of others. Your pride would be your downfall."
The playful spirit of Thorin reminiscent of his nephews that had long since been oppressed within his heart yearned to ask if she was related to Gandalf, and before he could make an actual reply the elf smile.
"Mithrandir is no relation of mine."
Blood rushing to his cheeks as he realised that she was somehow hearing his innermost childish thoughts, Thorin spoke aloud gruffly. "I have no intentions of falling prey to the sickness, madam."
The elf woman's smile became small and knowing, almost sorrowful and she said no more, but somehow Thorin did not feel as though he had won that particular argument...
He knew better than to confront Balin angrily about how he knew the elf woman upon sight, and Balin knew well enough to offer an explanation, describing how he had been taking a walk, enjoying the peaceful solitude, when the woman had all but appeared from thin air and spoken to him about his standing on the quest.
Thorin was a little disgruntled when Balin offered no further information, but he did not press his most trusted advisor, assuming that his cousin would have his reasons for silence. Their return to the courtyard found the entire company asleep with the sole exception of an uncharacteristically thoughtful Dwalin.
"What news?" The warrior asked in a low voice, and Thorin replied just as quietly.
"We leave at dawn."
"The elves aren't going to stop us?"
"No."
Dwalin nodded, looking satisfied, before settling into his bedroll.
Balin lay down next to him but Thorin was too tense to sleep, so instead he paced, back and forth, back and forth...
It was supposed to be a treat for his nephews, but it had quickly mutated into a nightmare. Thorin roared and swung his sword into an orc's neck, felling his foe as quickly as he could.
A woman's scream met his ears and he looked northwards, his heart falling at the sight of the burning homes. In a few minutes his sister-sons would no longer be safe cowering in the kitchen of his cousin's house. Glóin's own wife and little son, Gimli, were hidden in the fortified council house in the middle of the village with most of the others in the settlement, but the attack had come so swiftly and Fíli and Kíli had been stranded in amongst the fighters.
"Uncle!" Fíli screamed desperately from inside, and Thorin turned, narrowly missing an axe to the head, before ducking back into Glóin's house, slamming and locking the door behind him though he knew it would only win him seconds.
He tore into the kitchen and his horror grew at the hole in the wall where the window had been and the goblin advancing maliciously towards his cowering nephews.
The slow, sinister movements of the goblin seemed to have been spurned by amusement on the vile creature's behalf at the knife Fíli clutched in a shivering hand in what would undoubtedly be a vain to protect his brother.
With a battle-cry to wake the dead, Thorin swung forward and beheaded his nephews' attacker in one fell swoop. Instantly Kíli flew into his legs and Thorin heard the door break down.
"Uncle!" His dark haired nephew sobbed, but the time for true comfort would come later.
Thinking only of the practical way to ensure their survival, Thorin shoved Kíli into his brother's arms.
"Look after each other, run, run!" He yelled, throwing them both out of the door. "I'll be right behind you."
To Thorin's great relief, his sister-sons ran, fleeing towards the lake and apparently dodging the wave of foes now swarming around Thorin. Slashing his way through the plunderers, Thorin fought viciously and fiercely, desperate to reach Fíli and Kíli, and to hold them close and tell them that they would be safe.
A part of Thorin still believed that his nephews were untouchable, that they could not truly die. To lose them would be to lose himself, and that just could not happen.
"Fee! Fíli, help me!"
Thorin whirled around at Kíli's scream, staring towards the retreating figures of a group of orcs that had escaped his sight.
"No!" His roar came out as a mewl at the mere prospect of losing his sunshine and his light, and he ripped through his enemy as Kíli and Fíli were surrounded and the screams of Dís' two little boys filled the air.
Thorin all but ignored the enemies around him and ran faster than he had ever run in his life. He was aware of Dwalin and Glóin on his heels, along with several others, but he could not see who it was, and frankly he did not care.
They would make it, they would make it…
An orc tore Kíli from his brother's arms and Thorin forced his legs to move faster.
They would make it, they would make it...
An orc drew back it's hammer before Kíli's head, and a horrified though dawned in Thorin's mind.
They were not going to make it, they could not make it…
Thorin's roar of grief tore painfully out of his throat as Kíli crumpled to the floor and Fíli started to scream.
"No! No, Kíli, please! Help, help us, please help! Kee, Kíli!"
Grief and fury overwhelmed Thorin with a mind-numbing strength that he had only experienced once before, at the death of his brother, Frerin, and he swung his sword around with more power than he knew possible, his only thought that he had to get to Kíli and Fíli before –
They kicked his body into the lake.
His bellow of grief-stricken agony became his battle cry as Thorin stabbed at every foe to come his way, searching desperately for Fíli through the fray. As his last enemy's head flew to the floor three feet away from its body, Thorin saw a sight that made his heart grow cold.
Fíli leant back away from the edge of the lake, preparing to jump in.
The dwarf king lunged at his heir, grabbing Fíli around the waist and forcibly lifting him away from the deadly water. Fíli screamed as though he was being branded at Thorin's touched, fighting like an animal to get to the water.
"Fíli, stop!" Thorin choked, staring at the black tempest of a lake.
Fíli sobbed. "You have to let me go to him, Thorin, Kíli's in there!"
"No one could swim in that, Fíli." Thorin admitted in a whisper, his heart so heavy that if he had attempted to swim in the impossible waters, he would have been drowned by its weight alone.
"No…" Fíli whispered, in a daze. "No, no, no!"
Thorin stared into the water, imagining the screaming face of his sister-son, and realising in horror that the last thing he had done to the child that brought him so much joy was to shove him away.
"Kíli, I'm so sorry…" he spluttered, before dropping to his knees and pulling Fíli to him, pressing the boy's face into his chest and lowering his forehead onto Fíli's blonde hair.
Then Thorin Oakenshield sobbed.
With a shudder, Thorin retracted himself from his memories and stared at his sister-sons. Sleep took away their maturity, leaving them looking as innocent as babes as they lay side by side, breathing heavily as in the manner of dreamers.
The words of the elf woman lying heavily on his mind, Thorin wondered if such a sickness could make him value gold above his sister-sons.
It's not gold that you have to worry about… a snide voice reminded him.
The Arkenstone.
Sighing, Thorin shook his head, startling when the taste of salt entered his mouth.
"Thorin? Are you alright?" A tired voice asked in surprised concern, and he looked at Kíli in shock.
"You're awake…"
"You were pacing…" Kíli smiled wryly, before dropping into concern. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Thorin insisted in his best end-of-coversation tone, but unfortunately this Kíli was either was still too unfamiliar with him to recognise it or he was too stubborn to care.
"You're crying."
Thorin blinked, and raised a hand to his cheeks. Sure enough, they were damp, and now that he thought about it his eyes were stinging. "So I am…"
Kíli's little smile returned, though concern kept his eyebrows knitted together. "You didn't notice?"
"No…" Thorin sighed, returning the small smile. "I am alright, Kíli. I was merely remembering…"
"Oh…" Kíli trailed off, stifling a yawn as though he wanted to hear more, but was too afraid to ask.
"Why does pacing wake you?" Thorin asked in an attempt to distract himself.
Kíli's head lay back down against the pillow and he smiled up at his uncle. "Bilbo always paces when something's troubling him, like most people, I suppose. It used to keep me awake, because if Bilbo worried, then I worried too."
Thorin nodded, before pausing. "Kíli… I must admit to you that I am truly sorry…"
"For what?" Kíli raised his head, looking confused.
"You will not even remember, but it is something I must apologize for all the same…" Thorin murmured, looking up at the illuminating moon. "On the day the orcs came, I slew an orc advancing on you in the kitchens and you sought comfort from me. I knew that the time would cause a delay, but I never thought that I would never be able to explain myself, so I pushed you to your brother without so much as a word…"
"I understand…" Kíli said quietly. "And it's alright…"
Thorin gave his sister-son a week smile, and Kíli shuffled out of bed.
"What are you doing? You will wake the hobbit, or your brother."
Kíli sent Thorin a look that he knew well – it was his look in the first place – and stood up crossing across to Thorin without so much as a twitch from the two figures he had been sleeping between.
"You were saying?"
"Do not cheek me, lad."
Kíli smiled and sat down, thinking for a moment. "I don't like pumpkin."
"I beg your pardon?" Thorin frowned, wondering why on earth it concerned him that the boy liked or disliked a fruit that they were almost certain not to come across upon their journey.
Kíli's smile grew. "You cannot sleep and you have a lot on your mind. So I am going to bore you with useless and uninteresting trivia about myself until you fall asleep. Then you reciprocate."
"When I'm asleep?" Thorin raised an eyebrow at the child who now appeared to be mothering him.
"No, I say a fact about myself, and then you say something about yourself. I know so little about you…" Kíli's tone softened towards the end, and Thorin sighed.
"Alright then…I shall humour you… I prefer tea to coffee."
Kíli hummed, nodding. "Interesting… I like to suck lemons."
"Why?" Thorin shook his head, and Kíli smiled.
"It makes people laugh."
Thorin gave a small smile of his own. "I used to eat the spiciest food I could source, for the same reason."
"Really?" Kíli asked with a smile.
"Indeed. I was much like yourself when I was a child." Thorin admitted nostalgically. "Before the dragon came and I was forced to grow up."
Kíli nodded absently and paused. "I am unnerved by felines."
Very pleased at the changing of the topic to something less heavy, Thorin raised his eyebrows. "You are not afraid of kittens?"
"No, I am slightly unnerved by felines." Kíli insisted and Thorin chuckled quietly.
"I have an irrational fear of bees."
"Bees?"
"Bees."
Kíli smiled at that. "I like thunderstorms, because they're wild and unpredictable and they make me feel free."
"I play the harp when I need to think."
"My favourite colour is dark blue…"
"My favourite food is minted lamb."
"I like the night, it shares secrets."
"I like the day, it hides them."
"I miss the Shire."
Thorin paused and looked at Kíli, who was staring resolutely at the door. "You do?"
"A little, yes…" Kíli nodded, still averting Thorin's gaze. "But I am happy that I came, I'm actually doing something worthwhile and the company is fantastic…"
Thorin recognised the look on Kíli's face. The look said that Kíli's confession had been bubbling on the tip of his tongue for days, but now that he said it he regretted his words.
Thorin paused.
"I would like to see the sea one day."
Kíli looked up in wonder, before grinning and bumping into Thorin purposefully for a moment. "I would like to see it with you."
Thorin's heart swelled, and with a start he realised that this stolen moment in the darkness of an elven city was the first time he had properly bonded with his nephew – during his Khuzdul lessons he had felt so awkward that he had turned his thoughts to lessons. This was far more pleasant, they could do this more often. "My favourite place to read is in a window seat. Any window seat will do."
As time wore on, the two continued to talk, until their confessions became a little eccentric.
"I want to fly, like a bird."
"I want to turn invisible at will." Thorin mused, thinking of how many unwelcome ambassadors he could hide from.
"And I want to sleep!" A disgruntled voice grumbled from across the room. "Kíli, your laugh is about as quiet as an angry bear."
Kíli and Thorin exchanged glances and snorted, before giggling quietly at Fíli's irritation. A part of Thorin dissolved into wonder.
He, Thorin son of Thráin, son of Thror, Oakenshield, was giggling.
When his nephews brought the conversation later, he would always deny that particular moment, but it did happen. In the midst of Rivendell, in the middle of the night, Thorin Oakenshield giggled like a little girl.
Well, stranger things were known to happen.
Thorin blamed the elves.
Okay, with all the will in the world, I meant for them to leave Rivendell, I actually did, but that will be the start of next chapter. I got a little carried away :P
I hope you enjoyed that, and the OOC ness was justifiable by the fact that Kíli and Thorin were trying to come out of their shells.
The next chapter will DEFINITELY be action packed to make up for a distinct lack of action in the past few chapters, so I'll see you ASAP :P Thanks for reading.