Translations:
Dartho Chadad! (elvish)- Hold fire!
nadadith- (khuzdul)- little brother
sannadad- (khuzdul)- perfect brother
Author Note: So just a warning to everyone who's been following this story, after this chapter there will be one more chapter, chapter 15. I don't usually do concluding, happy ending, chapters but if people really want one after chapter 15 then I came make chapter 16 a nice closing chapter.
Kili's grip was so tight on his bow that he could feel the dry, cracked skin of his palm burn where it stretched and rubbed against the smoothed wood. His arm ached where he held his bow upright at the ready, the other arm kept an arrow positioned straight against the bow string. Kili was aware of Tauriel standing next to him in a pose that mimicked his own. The slain guard was still on the ground at Kili's right, the puddle of blood from his neck wound creating a halo around his upper half. In his peripheral vision Kili could see the blood had spread almost to his booted foot, he wanted to glance down to check if he was standing in it, but knew he couldn't risk the momentary distraction it would impose.
Kili tried to wait in bated breath, to focus all of his instincts at the ridge, but as the seconds ticked on he couldn't stop his thoughts from circling in his head. Who was attacking them? It could be a band of orcs who had been pushed back away from the lands surrounding Erebor and sought the next place to lay siege to. After all, Bolg and his orcs had attacked their company on their journey in this same area, killing the guards at the gate, and shooting down at them from the river's edge. But… Kili reminded himself, they had had a reason for risking combat with the elves, to kill his Uncle. Surely if these were orcs even they would understand the suicide risk of attacking a kingdom of elves for sport.
As if reading his mind, Tauriel murmured to him. "That dagger is no orcish blade."
Without glancing down at it, Kili knew she was right. It was distinctively dwarvish in make. He had sensed it when he glimpsed the metal inlay design on the blade in that still moment before the guard had hit the ground. And now Kili's thoughts crashed to a halt in a whole new disturbing conclusion even as the brisk winter wind swirled around the archers' still figures. This was no orc raid… it was a kidnapping.
Kili lowered his bow, slowly, slipping the arrow from the string. Tauriel cast an alarmed glance at him and hissed, "Kili, what are you doing? Arm yourself!"
Kili extended a hand to pacify her. He glanced again at the fallen guard and knew that this death was another result of his rash words and actions. Mahal, could he not just learn to do as he was told? Damn his pride. He was tired of getting people killed because of his selfish actions. This ruthless bloodshed had to end.
Looking back towards Tauriel who was regarding him with an expression of mixed confusion and exasperation, he spoke in his best diplomatic voice. "Tell your men to hold their fire, Tauriel. This attack is from my own people, and so it should concern only me and my people. I do not want anyone else being killed for interfering."
"Kili, Prince Legolas ordered me—"
"Prince Legolas in not here at the moment," Kili cut over her. " and I am giving you an order. Please relay it to your men."
Tauriel glared hard at him for a moment, her hair whipping about her in the wind as a flame dances in a strong breeze. Kili stared her hard in the eyes in return, daring her to disobey him. Finally, Tauriel turned towards the two men farther up by the river's edge with something that sounded like 'Valar help you' hissed under her breath.
"Dartho chadad!" She called out in a clear voice, and as if on queue the archers perched ahead of them loosened the tension on their bowstrings and lowered them a fraction. The elves' expressions of apprehension were not as reassuring as Kili would have liked, but at least the possibility of one of his own race getting shot the moment he crested the edge had lessened.
It seemed that Kili now had the floor as everyone's gazes looked back on him expectantly. Well, here goes nothing.
"Sevrin, you can come out now!" He shouted, turning in a half circle to sweep his eyes through the trees that surrounded the river bank, looking for any sign of movement. "The elves will not fire on you and your men, and I hope that you will show the same restraint."
The figures emerged seamlessly, in the same way that shadows disappear into the light. In pairs of two they slid out from between the trees or scrambled up the rocky terrain to stand atop the boulders, eyes locked with the elven archers. Kili's eyes were immediately drawn to Sevrin. He didn't stop there, but jumped down from his rock and made his way closer to Kili.
"Look at you commanding a band of elves." He said, sheathing his sword across his back with an ease that displayed just how strong he really was. "Living up to everyone's expectations I see."
Kili did not rise to the bait. Let Sevrin make his brutish remarks, Kili would just have to take the higher, more diplomatic, road. "What is it going to take for you to leave here without killing anyone else, Sevrin?"
Sevrin grinned at him. "Well I thought that would have been obvious by now. Leave here with me and my—" he was interrupted by the clatter of displaced rocks as a pair of late comers crested the hill to join the rest of their crew. Sevrin rolled his eyes and turned back to face Kili.
"Idiots." he growled.
"I've already told you that I'm not going to marry you." Kili reminded Sevrin. "Nothing is going to change that."
Sevrin snorted in that derisive way of his that always felt like a slap to Kili's face. "I think my men could put that to the test." With a signal from Sevrin, the dwarfs in question started descending down towards Kili's standing position. Kili was unceremoniously reminded of when the wargs were set upon them after their flight from goblin town. They had closed in on them in that same V formation. Beasts couldn't be reasoned with, Kili reassured himself, but men could.
Kili took in the worn clothing these dwarves wore. While they were stitched in the geometric patterns of their households, the embellishment was frayed and dirty like they had worn that same garment for many months. And the rest of their attire looked like it had been picked up along the way.
"I can see that many of these dwarves are sellswords, loyal to nothing but the coins in your purse. I'm sure you offered them quite a nice sum to publicly attack their prince. How much do you think it would cost me to change their minds?"
Around him, the dwarves slowed to a stop, glancing uncertainly between Sevrin and Kili. Kili watched Sevrin's expression morph from anger, to amusement, to something much more that made Kili want to shrink away . He obviously hadn't been expecting Kili to put up a fight, but didn't seem to mind it much. Kili remembered that day he had pressed his carving knife into the older dwarf's side, how his blood had pumped through him with an equal mixture of fear and rage, and how Sevrin had looked almost lustful at his display of defiance. Deja vu struck him hard in the gut.
"I doubt any amount you have on your person could match what I've already given them."
"No," Kili agreed, sliding back a step as the dwarves started creeping forward towards him again, then continued louder, "But I have an entire treasury at my disposal under the mountain. I'm sure that any dwarves who were to escort their prince back home safely would be paid a great sum. Triple whatever this lord offered you." Kili pointed an accusing finger at Sevrin.
"So, what will it be?" Kili waited in tense silence for their answer, aware all the time of Tauriel and her men quietly tensing their bowstrings. Even with their intervention, they were still outnumbered.
There was a subtle exchanging of glances between the group of dwarves. Kili despaired that none of them would be bold enough to make a decision, when one thicky bearded dwarf stepped forward. "Aye," he grunted. "I will go with you."
He came to stand by Kili's left, axe thumping to the ground, handle down, in front of him. And just like that, two more dwarves grunted their assent and stumbled over to Kili's side. Still, Kili did the math in his head, three elves plus four dwarves, himself included, against the remaining party. He supposed their chances were good, if slim. Luckily, Sevrin needed him alive and Kili was not restrained by such necessities. He would make sure to cause as much harm as possible before he was incapacitated.
Sevrin drew his sword out of his sheath, his eyes dark and his smile even darker. "After I've killed your friends and made you mine, I'm going to greatly enjoy breaking that strong will of yours."
"You're have to kill me before that happens, my lord." called a voice from Sevrin's group. Kili's arrow slipped from between his fingers to clatter onto the rocky ground, his mouth suddenly dry as his eyes scanned the hooded figures in front of him.
It couldn't be. He surely would have seen… there. Movement. Kili and Sevrin both sucked in a shocked gasp as the figure at the back threw back his hood, as did his companion next to him. Kili registered Dwalin's bushy brows and shaved head instantly, but it was at a glance as his eyes were drawn to the figure that had spoken. It was no wonder Kili had not recognized him, his hair was tied back with a leather thong and pasted with mud to disguise it's telltale golden shine. Fili's complexion was pale, which had Kili questioning how he'd managed to ride here at such speed without worsening his condition, but his grip on the sword he carried was strong and his expression determined and Kili knew nothing short of Sevrin's demise would stop him.
"How did you—" Sevrin sputtered with rage as Fili and Dwalin approached. The other dwarves parted before them, seeming to realise that they should not interfere with this matter. Perhaps it was because Fili was crown prince, but Kili thought it had more to do with the fact that Fili looked like he would cut down any dwarf who stood in his path. It seemed he already had, Kili noted the dark stain on the traveling cloak Fili wore. Dwalin's held the same stain, still shiny in the sunlight. It seemed Sevrin's late comers were not his at all.
"If you had brought royal guards they would have known to watch their rear." Fili shrugged. "I guess that's the price you pay when buying sellswords."
He came to a stop in front of Sevrin and Kili seemed to be unconsciously comparing them both as he stood watching them. His handsome brother and the man he'd once compared him to. He could see nothing of that likeness now. Though both of their hair was blonde, Sevrin's was a paler, colder, blonde than Fili's golden locks. Sevrin's taller frame was also held stiffly erect, and the fine clothes he wore only enhanced the high born attitude that clung to him. He was nothing like Fili and Kili thought it insulting that he'd ever told Fili such a thing.
"So the crown prince of Erebor has come to rescue his brother from me with one man?" Sevrin gave a cruel laugh. "Some call you brave. I'm inclined to call you foolish. Tell me how are you going to take on all of my men?"
Fili's mouth was a tight line. "I'm not. Only a coward would hide behind his men in a matter such as this. We can settle this with a duel—"
"Fili, no!" Kili stared wide eyed at his brother, but Fili was not looking at him.
Instead he continued on, speaking only to Sevrin. "Winner gets Kili. Agreed?"
"No! Not agreed. At all!" Kili snapped, marching towards them, and thinking to himself that he sounded a lot like Bilbo when Thorin got the hobbit going. Sevrin's sword came up to intercept him, but Kili smacked it away with the back of his bow. He advanced on Fili until he was right in his face. "I'm sorry brother but I think that blow to your head might have knocked your senses clean out your other ear. Nobody is going to 'get' me because I am not some prize that is to be won."
Fili's brow creased in that worried way of his. "I know that, nadadith, but I've let you down. I need to right my wrongs."
"What are you talking about, Fili?" asked Kili.
"I promised to protect you from all things," stated Fili. "but now look at all that I've let happen to you!" Fili waved a hand around them.
Kili clasped his hand to Fili's dirty cheek, leaning forward to touch their foreheads together as his eyes sprung up with tears. "Oh, sannadad. You've not let me down. This was going to happen whether you were conscious for it or not."
"Mahal, now I'm glad I don't have a brother." interjected Sevrin. "I would never be able to put up with such sentimental sap like this."
Fili pulled away from Kili's hold with a glare in Sevrin's direction. "No," he snapped. "I don't think you would. You don't seem to possess a kind or nurturing bone in your body."
Sevrin tapped a finger against his lips in thought. "I seem to recall the old saying goes 'Aule created dwarves to be stone-hard and unyielding to the powers of Melkor'. I wonder what he would think of you two blubbering to each other like dwarflings."
There was a pattering of hushed snickers from the dwarves around them, that quickly died out from the brothers' joint glares. " My, my Fili," Sevrin continued, undisturbed. " perhaps I was wrong about you. I'm beginning to question if I should support a prince with such… shortcomings."
"Then let's put this to a duel so that I can prove you wrong. Agreed?"
Sevrin nodded. "Agreed. Form a circle by the archery field!"
Kili glanced at Fili's pale complexion again and fell back to walk next to Dwalin as they made their way to the archery field where the ground was flatter. In a quiet voice he asked Dwalin, "Is he well enough to be doing this?"
Dwalin gave a gruff laugh like he was entirely done with dealing with the line of Durin and their stubbornness. "The lad has already ripped his stitches by riding here but I bandaged his torso tight enough to pressurize the wound for now. I don't suppose you could ask your elvish lass to speak some healing magic over him before the fight?"
Kili shot a glance over his shoulder at Tauriel, whose face was puckered in a highly disapproving expression. "She doesn't look in the mood to do me any favors at the moment."
"No, I guess not." Kili was jerked to attention when Dwalin grasped Kili's arm firmly. "You must act as Fili's second, lad. This duel is a family matter and I'm afraid I'm not close enough kin to apply."
"Me? Isn't that against the rules of the duel. After all, I'm the person they're trying to win."
"Nay, lad. The rules only say that in a duel of family matters, any close kin may stand as second. If Fili should fall trying to win you, then you will fight to win yourself. And if you both lose, well… at least you lose knowing that you did all you could."
"Alright." Kili nodded. Ahead of them the circle had formed with Sevrin standing inside at one end. Fili stood outside the ring, still, rolling his shoulders. He slid the double edged blade from his back and moved to enter. Kili caught his sleeve before he could, though.
He tugged him away from the circle, towards the boulders that edged the field. "It would not be right to duel without the proper weapons." He stooped down to retrieve Fili's twin swords from where he left them resting against the stone. Fili stared awestruck at his favorite blades, his fingers slid along the blade and pulled back with a sharp gasp. Blood oozed from a cut on his fingertips.
"I sharpened them for you." Kili said, with an apologetic smile. Kili exchanged Fili's broadsword for his twin falchions. "This one will be mine, as your second."
Fili stared hard at Kili, looking like he wanted to object but knew he would not win this argument. Instead he wrapped Kili in a hug, mindful of his swords.
"Good luck, brother." Kili's words were muffled into Fili's tunic, but he knew Fili understood him.
"And you, brother." Fili released him and walked back towards Sevrin, Kili following at his heels. The ring of dwarves and elves closed around him, locking them in and Kili could only think they would need all the luck they could get.