Am I going to get flagged for the name of this chapter? Probably. Fantastic.

I don't own anything here outside of my plot and OCs. The rest it Tolkien and PJ's.

NOTE: I am not a blacksmith. Please don't judge. Also, don't put butter in burn wounds. Or any wounds, for that matter. Bad idea.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

RECREATIONAL STRIPPING

It felt good. More than good. Brilliant.

It was so familiar, the feeling of heat blazing over his face, the feeling of the hair scorching off of his arms, the shock of each blow rattling his body, the smell of a roaring coal fire, the sound of iron beating on iron. It reminded him of long days spent watching his uncle work, learning from his uncle how to work, and then helping his uncle to work. He could watch, as, within a matter of hours, a shard of old iron could be rendered by flame and force into a marvel of craft.

Of course, what he was doing had little resemblance to what work he'd found in the forges of Ered Luin. Working the bellows (the water wheel had broken a week ago), sweeping the floors, shoveling coal into the fire. Still, it felt good to be surrounded by the sights and sounds of his childhood. The fifteen silver pennies promised to him by the old man of a smithy couldn't hurt much either.

He and Gwen had parted ways earlier that morning, seeking work and pay. Kili had quickly been drawn to the sound of hammering metal, and had found there was help needed. As much as he wanted to, he kept himself from trying to take the elderly smithy's real work from him. The old man had too much pride in the rough work he did. Kili couldn't take that away. Even if he was much better at fixing broken axe blades than the stubborn human geezer could ever hope to be.

His day was quickly coming to an end, though. He was just about to go and ask the man about when his work day would be complete, when he heard a cry from the direction of the stone hearth. He turned on his heel to see the old man clutching his hand to his chest, his face turning a terrible shade of red as he cursed loudly. "Are you alright?" Kili asked, actually genuinely concerned.

"Damned—The oil—Damnit," he spat. "I burnt myself."

Kili frowned, coming closer. Forge burns could be nasty. He'd seen the flesh melted off of hands. "Should I draw some cold water?"

"No," the old man bit out. He ripped the coin purse off of his belt, chucking it in Kili's direction. "Take that. Close it all up. I'm done for the night."

Kili caught the purse, and his eyes went wide. That felt like more than fifteen silver pennies. "Are you sure? I can—"

"I'll get the wife to put some butter on it," he growled, pushing past Kili. "And finish forging that blade, would you?"

Kili opened his mouth to reply, but found that the man had already cleared out, the wooden gate swinging closed behind him. Frowning, Kili opened the purse. A moment of counting showed that he had earned eight copper shillings, eleven silver pennies, and two gold pieces. Quite a hefty sum for a day of menial labor. Not that Kili was about to complain. Instead, he went to the forge, a bit of a grin lighting his face.

In a moment, he'd worked the coals back to white hot, and soon enough, the kitchen knife the old man had been beating out was glowing a promising orange. Memories, good, bad, and bittersweet flooded his mind as he set to work, hammering the piece of metal into a much more precise shape. When at last he'd taken the stubborn warp out of it, he heated it again, before smoothly thrusting it into the basin of oil at his side. It hissed viciously, and flame spat up along his tongs, licking at his knuckles, searing against his skin.

The pain was familiar. After a few weeks of doing this daily, he'd stop feeling it all together. Even so, he didn't flinch as the pain tore raw into his skin. Once the blade was satisfyingly quenched, he drew it up out of its bath of oil, allowing it to cool for a few heartbeats before wiping it off with a rag. A smile found its way onto his lips. With a bit of grinding, it would cut well.

Of course, he'd rather have been making a blade to cut flesh, rather than potatoes, but he would take what he could get. As he let the coals die out, he went about the room, putting away all of the tools that had been strewn about, locking away the materials that were still useable. As a bit of an extra favor, he gave the floors one last good sweep. The old man had paid him at least three times more than what had been agreed. The least that he could do was help with the next day's chores.

His cleaning done, Kili drew a bucket of water up from the river to wash with. He had only just peeled his sweaty shirt up over his head, along with his necklace of trinkets when a voice had him turning around. "Oh bloody Valar."

Gwen was standing in the entrance to the forging shed, her face buried quite determinedly into her palm. Kili could guess, from the flush that was quickly lighting her cheeks, what had happened. "Like what you see, love?"

Gwen opted not to answer that, instead lifting her head from her palm, looking heavenward to avoid her eyes straying to him. "How is it that this is the second time this has happened to me?"

"I'm honestly a bit surprised it's only the second time," Kili admitted with an innocent shrug as he set his shirt aside, carefully tucking the glinting metal on string into the fabric. He moved to scrub his hands in the bucket of water. "What with the way you can't seem to keep your wandering eyes off of me."

"I think I'm doing quite well at keeping my eyes off of you," she shot back, her eyes still glued to the ceiling. "Now, did you actually make us some money today, or did you spend it recreationally stripping?"

"You say that as if I couldn't make money recreationally stripping," he scoffed. "But I did, actually do some work, and I did actually make some money." He waved to the coin purse he'd been given, sitting on a workbench.

There was a moment as Gwen counted the money, before she frowned. "What in Arda did you do to earn this?"

"Took advantage of the elderly," Kili said with a shrug, wetting a towel to clean the sweat off of his face as he took a seat on a stool. "What about you?"

"Took advantage of the overwhelmed. Chores, and the such, at a few different houses," she explained.

"To think of it," Kili snorted. "The fearsome and battle-hardened lady-warrior Gwen washing dishes and sweeping floors."

"I managed to match your little bit of money and then some," she shot back, nonchalant. "So I think you'd best start thinking of it."

"What, like you're thinking about the fact that I'm not wearing a shirt right now?"

Yes, he was being a bit playful with her. Teasing, you could say. Perhaps flirting. But whatever it was he was doing, it was worth it, seeing as her cheeks immediately flooded with every different shade of red. "You—I was not thinking about that."

Kili smirked. "Then why the blush?"

Seeing as he took that opportunity to re-wet his towel, slowly scrubbing it across his arms, it was unsurprising that her blush only worsened.

"It's the appropriate reaction to inappropriate behavior," she spat.

He let out a laugh. "Love, I think we're long past 'inappropriate behavior'."

As she struggled for a response, he decided to push his luck a bit further. "Speaking of which, do you think you could come over here and help me clean off my back?"

"Valar," Gwen sighed, trying to use exasperation to hide her surprise. "Is nothing sacred?"

"I can't reach my back. Plus, the smell of me if I go on without having the sweat properly cleaned off of me certainly would be less than sacred," he offered with a shrug, before sending her the sweetest smile he could manage. "Help a friend out?"

"You know, I have smelled unwashed dwarf before," she grumbled, even as she reluctantly stood, making her way over to him. "For weeks at a time, in fact. You didn't seem to have any qualms about that."

"Yes," he began, as he handed the towel back to Gwen (who rolled her eyes quite dramatically before snatching it away from him). "But if I had asked you to wash my back then, what would have happened?"

She snorted. "I'd have gutted you on the spot."

"Precisely," Kili sighed as she set to work, in brisk but not harsh strokes along his spine. "But now, you see, I believe we've reached the point in our relationship where such a simple, friendly request can be granted with minimal gutting."

"Oh, shut it," she huffed, slapping his bare shoulder. "The gutting's still on the table."

"I wouldn't dream of taking it off the table," he assured her, letting his eyes fall closed as he leaned forward, bracing his elbows against his knees. Even if she was trying to be annoyed at him, it didn't show in her soft, light touches, and the way her fingers slipped away from the rough fabric of the towel every few moments to brush tingling trails over his skin. "No matter where our relationship ends up."

"That seems a wise plan," she hummed.

"Of course," he began, once again, daring to push his luck a bit. "With the way you seem to be enjoying this, I hardly think those hands of yours could be better occupied outside of gutting."

Instead of responding, she slapped him hard across the back of the head with the wet towel. He flinched forward. "Ow!"

The sound of her laughter cut the air and he rolled his eyes, before twisting, grabbing onto her hip. It seemed that he caught her off guard as he easily dragged her down onto his lap, laughter still bubbling out of her. As her shoulder fell into the railing at his side, all of the sudden, that laughter went silent.

His grip around her instantly went tighter, as the good humor dropped out of the air like fifty bricks. Her gaze was fixed downwards, alight with a mixture of fear and paralyzation. It took only a moment for him to realize what had gone wrong, and only a moment to fix the problem as he hoisted her off of the railing. The railing that leaned a bit precariously over the river, yards below. He silently cursed himself as she stood up from his lap, swallowing hard. Was he daft? Of course, she was still bloody afraid of water. "Gwen, I—"

"It's nothing," she said quickly, shaking her head. "I'm fine."

Guilt still prickled at him, remembering that day by the river when she had, quite grudgingly admitted her fear of water. How quickly he had forgotten. "No, it's—"

She smiled faintly, shaking herself off. "That's enough, master dwarf. Now put your clothing back on. I've another job for us tonight."

Kili couldn't help but be a bit incredulous as he caught sight of the aprons lying on the table. "What, exactly, do you have us doing here?"

Gwen carried on to the table, plucking up an apron and tossing it towards him. "The tavern-keepers daughters are both out with fevers. He'll pay us five silver pennies apiece at the end of the night as long as we don't drive anyone away," she explained, slipping the apron on over her head, tying it neatly around her.

"Five silver pennies?" Kili repeated. "I made eight times that already."

"That's five silver pennies plus whatever tips we can wrack up from the patrons tonight," she corrected him, moving behind him to help him tie the strings of his own apron in place. "And I propose a challenge." She moved to sit on the edge of a table in front of him, a mischievous smile dancing around her lips. "Whoever can scrape together the most by the end of tonight wins."

Kili hummed, narrowing his eyes as he took a step closer to her. "Wins what?"

Gwen shrugged nonchalantly, though he could tell she was entirely aware of him leaning into her personal space. "I haven't thought of anything I particularly want."

"Well," Kili began, placing a hand on the table beside her hip to cage her in slightly. "I can think of quite a few things that I want."

She didn't back down an inch from his gaze, sliding over her. Instead, she lifted her chin slightly, that ever-infuriating smirk touching at her lips. "Is that so?"

He kept his eyes from roaming, instead, looking quite purposefully down to her lips. A slight smirk graced his face as he lifted his eyes to hers, before murmuring, "Quite."

The tension shattered as the door swung open. Kili had put three feet between he and Gwen before a heartbeat had gone past, schooling his face to a gentle smile as he greeted the cranky looking man in the doorway with a nod. "Good evening."

The man grunted at him, his lip curling into a sneer, before he shuffled off to a table in the back corner. Kili was about to go see what he would want to eat, but Gwen blocked his path, an eyebrow raised. "How quickly you assume an air of unaffectedness."

He shrugged breezily, giving her the most innocent smile he could muster. "Well, love, I do have a competition to win."

Kili had found out fairly quickly, that this wasn't Gwen's first time working a tavern. He had to admit, it made him nervous, seeing the stacks of coins that patrons left on tables to fill her pockets.

That's not to say, of course, that Kili wasn't making something as well. He could coax boisterous laughter (and thus a handful of copper shillings) out of many of the older men by explaining to them the deal he and Gwen had made. For the few older women that had come in to eat dinner, it was a simple, quite genuine explanation of the way that he and his betrothed were trying to make a bit of extra change to build a home before their first babe arrived. For the younger maids…well.

He had indeed just found a target that matched that very description. A few of them, really. All at a table, four of them, giggling and whispering just like the gaggles of lasses back in Ered Luin. He'd served them their dinner earlier, along with the tavern's finest (read—only) honeyed-wine, and now it was time to go in for the kill. He cleared his throat, gesturing to the empty seat beside the leader of the group. "May I?"

The leading girl smiled a bit coyly up at him. "Why of course."

Kili pretended that he didn't hear the way that the other girls burst into whispers as he sat himself down, leaning onto the table in front of him. "I'm afraid I didn't catch your names already?"

With a look from the leader off the group, the girl at Kili's other side smiled softly, offering, "Wynn."

The other two, quiet, and huddled slightly together, hesitated to answer. In a moment though, the one on the right chirped out, "Reynyn."

"Dellyn," the other answered, almost too softly for him to hear over the din of the tavern.

Finally, the leader of their little group said smoothly, "And Stelynn."

Kili drew up her offered hand to his lips, keeping his gaze locked onto hers as he brushed his lips against the back of her knuckles. He offhandedly noted that her hands were almost disturbingly soft, and free of callouses and scars. Had she done no work in her life? It felt disturbingly similar to raw meat. He didn't dare let those questions show as he let her fingers slip out of his, nodding to the other three girls around the table. "It's lovely to meet you all. My name's Kili."

Stelynn inclined her head towards him.

Kili didn't let a silence fall, instead, he smiled, beginning, "Beautiful night, isn't it?"

Gwen caught him for a minute as he was leaning against the counter, stowing away the handful of coins he'd secured. She whistled softly, raising a brow. "How much is that?"

Kili dropped the last coin into his pouch, pulling it shut. "That's for you to know later, lovely. Can't have you losing all hope of victory yet."

She rolled her eyes, but didn't yet move on, instead glancing towards the table where the girls were about to leave. "What'd you even say to them?"

He shrugged. "They asked to meet me later tonight for more drinking and revelry, and I said I'd be happy to as soon as I'd made enough money in tips here. Just like that, I'm practically rich."

Gwen let out an ungraceful snort, slumping into the bar top beside him. "Are you planning on meeting them later, then?"

"No," Kili replied, wrinkling his nose slightly. The girls were pretty, but they were wearing some sort of cloying perfume that had given him a bit of a headache, even after the few minutes he'd spent with them. Plus, he'd had enough giggling to last him a year. "It's been a long enough day already."

He schooled any unpleasantness off of his face as the girls reached the door, Stellynn looking back over her shoulder to give him a flirtatious wave. Kili sent a wink in her direction, without a second thought.

Gwen snorted, evidently having seen his reply. "Bloody heartbreaker, you are."

Kili rolled his eyes, turning aside to face her a bit more head on. "Oh, don't act so high and mighty. I saw you getting cozy with old one-eye over there."

The geezer in question was sweeping the bar with his famed one-eye glare, while demonstrating is masterful ability to scowl and down massive tankards of ale at the same time. If Kili didn't know any better he'd say it was Dwalin's lesser known, one-eyed cousin.

"Hardly," Gwen scoffed. "He's still calling me 'lad'."

"You see," Kili began, letting a cheeky smirk slide across his lips as he raked his eyes over her body. "I don't think I could ever think that."

Excepting, of course, that time when he first met her, and thought she was a man. She didn't need to hear that though.

Gwen raised a brow slightly, though she didn't back down from his gaze. "You see, I would have found that much less creepy if I hadn't just watched you charm the skirts off of four fourteen-year old girls."

"They were sixteen, at least," Kili protested, flinching slightly. He was not creepy. …right?

"And you're still seventy-seven."

He ignored that in favor of recovering his previous bravado, giving her a knowing smile. "I think someone might be jealous."

That was the final straw, it seemed, as she pushed away from the bar, sweeping away from him. "Get back to work, you lazy sod."

The night seemed to drag on for an eternity. By the end of it, Kili could tell his smiles were edging on half-hearted, and his jokes were growing a bit dimwitted. But that didn't matter much. His coin purse was still nearly bursting at the seams.

The tavern was mostly clear of patrons, save a few patrons passed out on tables (or the floor) about the room. He and Gwen had finally gotten to sit down for their dinner, despite the fact that it was almost midnight. They didn't talk much, seeing as they were both half-asleep in their seats, but once they'd pushed their plates aside, there had been a silent agreement, and they both set to counting out their tips from the night. Kili finished counting just as Gwen did, sitting back in her seat, arms crossed, a smug expression on her face. Kili matched this with a raised brow. "Pleased, are you?"

"A bit," she admitted with a shrug.

"Care to share?" he prompted.

"I would, actually." She began pushing stacks of coins forward as she announced, "Forty-two copper shillings, twenty-one silver pennies, and," she seemed to take particular pride in this last one as she held the golden coins in her fingers, letting them glint in the lamplight. "Five gold pieces."

Kili fought back a scoff, forcing himself to keep his face blank as he nodded. "Decent, certainly," he admitted, pretending to be hedging away a bit.

"Oh?" she asked, raising a brow. He could tell from her face that she thought he'd lost this challenge. What she seemed to forget, or course, was that he was a son of Durin. And sons of Durin aren't defeated quite so easily.

He started his count then, pushing stacks of coins forward as he spoke. "Thirty-four copper shillings." Her smirk only grew, and Kili knew that his number was slightly less than hers. Her grin only grew larger as he announced, "Eighteen silver pennies, and…eight gold pieces."

It was his turn to grin as he let the pretty gold coins slide out of his palm, and onto the table. Gwen slammed the table hard with her fist, hissing out, "Bastard."

A few of their coin-stacks tumbled down at the sudden jolt, and a patron in the corner jerked half-awake. Kili, meanwhile, was trying to stifle laughter at her completely miffed expression. "Sorry, love," he chuckled, shrugging as he swept the coins off of the table top and back into his pouch. "I guess it really does pay to be the handsome Durin-son."

She still seemed to be seething slightly, almost pouting, her arms across her chest. "Shut up."

"Don't be a sore loser," he admonished her.

"Don't be an arrogant winner," she shot back.

"Consider this payback, really," he reasoned. "For a duel a few months back."

She rolled her eyes, but he certainly caught a fondness in her eyes as he reminded her of their last challenge. Gwen stood from the table, replacing her earnings into her pouch. "Well, lovely as this has been, it's late, and I have had the longest day."

"Not so fast," he warned her, a smirk growing over his face.

She lifted a brow down at him, and he stood, taking his sweet time. "You seem to have forgotten, but I have yet to claim my prize."

If it was possible for someone to go pale and blush at the same time, she managed it. Still, she said in a fairly unaffected voice, "Still on about that, are you?"

Instead of answering that, he made his way around the table to her. He would be lying if he said he didn't use the room to his advantage. He managed to back her up to a spot in the floor against the wall where he knew there was a slight dip. This put him almost eye-to eye with her as her back hit the wall. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice noticeably hoarse.

Any paleness in her face had disappeared to be replaced entirely with flushed, pinkish skin. Almost subconsciously, her tongue darted out, wetting her lips as she breathed out a tense sigh. Considering his closeness, it was no trouble to brace an arm against the wall beside her head, leaning a bit closer as he smiled at her. "If I had to guess, I'd say exactly what you want right now."

Her eyes widened fractionally, her breath hitching in her chest, and Kili had to fight back a full grin. Instead, he tilted his head slightly. "Anything wrong, there, love?"

As she struggled to find an answer, he breathed in a deep sigh, allowing his lungs to fill with the heat of her breath and the smell of her skin. So many times, he'd dreamed of this…he'd felt the phantoms of her heat, smelled traces of her hair. But the way it was now, swirling through the air around him, even dampened with the smell of sweat and spilled ale, she was borderline intoxicating. Much better than any cloyingly-flowery perfume.

Finally she managed to choke out, "No."

He had to swallow hard. Mahal, this closeness…this having her near, but not being able to have her, it was going to kill him. He wanted to kiss her. To take the breath right out her chest before she could think a single other thing. And based off of the way her gaze darted from his eyes to his lips, her wishes weren't too different from his.

Mahal, why couldn't she just be his?

He found his hand shaking as he raised it, sliding it across her cheek, right until he was cupping the entire side of her face, his fingertips brushing against the scars at the top of her ears. She didn't even flinch as he shifted further closer. In fact, if he didn't know any better, he'd say that she herself was inching closer to him, her breaths stifled, but still quick and sharp. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as he trembled with the Gwen that overwhelmed him.

Every muscle in his body screamed at him as he leaned forward, tilting his head to press a gentle kiss against the curve of her cheek. Her skin was soft, and even such a contact as that sent shivers racing across his skin. He used his sudden surge of adrenaline to grapple her into an embrace, her chin falling to rest on his shoulder, her shoulders tucking easily into him.

She let out a sigh as he held her, and he could feel slight trembling throughout her. Not that he was any better. It felt like he had just run ten miles. His face was hot, his breaths ragged, his muscles trembling from exertion. He tilted his head, pressing another soft kiss against her temple, allowing himself to soak every moment of her in. He gritted his teeth against the regret that flooded him quite suddenly. He could have kissed her. Kissed her properly. And she wouldn't have fought back a bit.

But no. That would ruin both of them. He couldn't kiss her. Not yet, at least. He had to be content with what he had.

As her arms locked around his waist, her breath washing over his skin, his own lips tingling with the feeling of her skin, he tried to convince himself that this was enough.

He jerked to consciousness, sitting up instantly, doubling over, gasping as much as his lungs allowed. Bile rose in his throat, and tears burned hot, dry and angry at the back of his eyes. He tried to scream, to say a word, to choke out her name, but his mouth was dry and empty. Instead, a sob racked through him, almost convulsively, like a cough.

The shadows that coated every wall of his room were too dark. He couldn't tell what hid there. The shadows upon the floor concealed a slick of freshly spilled, red blood. The shadows in the corner hid away a crumpled, broken, beautiful body. The shadows on the wall disguised a knife, spattered red, jammed, with a fury, between the boards. The shadows on the ceiling—Mahal, how easily they would keep him from seeing that noose.

His skin crawled as he dry heaved and coughed through another sob all at once.

The silence in the room was too heavy. The thick, stillness of the air stifled him. The shadows—oh the shadows—

"Kili?"

His head shot up, as if on its own accord. His head spun, his eyes raking the room. The shadows. Where was she? Where had that voice come from? Mahal, was he still being haunted—

"Kili! What's wrong? Can I come in?"

A feeling, like ice spread over his skin, and suddenly, he could breathe. The shadows no longer crawled with desperate, clawing hands. The walls were no more spattered with blood than he was. The ceiling no longer supported the noose.

"Kili—"

He was on his feet and across the room by the time the door had swung open, slamming hard into Gwen. He had her gripped tightly in his arms, tucked against his chest before she could get the door even halfway open, and they both went stumbling back as she yelped slightly in surprise. "Valar! What are you—"

"It was a dream," he assured himself. "It's not real."

Gwen's voice softened and she finally got her feet back under her. "Kili?"

He reveled in the feeling of her voice, in the soft curls of her hair filling his hands and nose, her heart, warm and beating against him. "It wasn't real," he repeated, practically shaking with relief. The terror that had chilled his bones upon waking was fading, to be replaced with her warmth. The tears rolled out of his eyes now, and he really didn't care. Mahal, it wasn't real.

Somehow, Gwen lowered herself, and Kili felt her mattress bumping against his knees. "It wasn't real," Gwen repeated, almost in a whisper as she helped him up onto the cot, her fingers combing gently through his hair.

He shook his head in agreement, clutching to her all the tighter. "You—"

"Shh," she interrupted, and all of the sudden, he noticed that she, too, was shaking just as badly as he was.

Bloody Mahal. They were a mess.

As her grip didn't relent from around him, her finger continuing their wandering, soothing trails across his back, and through his hair, the memories of his dream faded, like dirt draining away through his fingers. His sobs faded soon enough as well, but he didn't dare move. He didn't want to let her go. Couldn't let her go. Couldn't give her back to the darkness.

As slowly, sleep began tugging at his senses, Gwen's scattered humming took a form.

When the shadows grow and you can't see through…

He knew this melody. He'd heard it nights before. On long nights, when she'd woken from nightmares and sung herself to sleep.

And their voices sound in your head,

Just remember what I've told you, what I know is true,

Forget the things they've said.

She sang her song with the sweetest sort of muttered familiarity, as if she didn't even notice that she was singing it.

When your heart is heavy, and you can't see through,

When you shake and tremble with fear…

Each word landed upon his ear, more delicately than the last, like snowflakes falling, numbing him to the pain in his chest. Her voice buzzed through him, warm and tingling, far too familiar…

Just remember what I've told you, what I know is true…

Despite himself, he felt his eyes fall closed, at last succumbing to the soft embrace of sleep.

Know, I'm always here.

Aaaah, many emotions, yes? I wrote the song/poem at the end. This was only like half of it, but I'll be bringing it back into the story eventually. Fun fact, it is an actual song with an actual tune that I wrote. Not that that'll help you guys at all, but I just wanted to impress the fact that I'm cool.

I really hoped you liked this chapter. It was a ton of fun to write. Flirty Gwen/Kili is fun. Plus, shirtless Kili. If you have the time, tell me what you have to say in a fancy-shmancy review. Please. Write about your favorite moment in the chapter. I'll even take criticism. Or your favorite color.

Thanks for reading. See you all next week!