Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, or any of their characters. Some snippets of dialogue in this chapter have been taken from the movie version of "The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring".
Chapter 28
The journey through the woods of Lothlórien passed by in a bit of a haze. Sometimes Kíli felt almost as if he were floating above his own body, watching their traveling party's progress through unknown lands. The sensation was, however, quite different from what he remembered of his first visit to Mirkwood. There, he had felt confused to the extent that it had made him angry and irrational, now it was more as if the sheer beauty of the world around him kept lulling him into a (false?) sense of security.
It seemed that with every step he took the world they had left behind fell away a little bit more, the sorrows and worries that had plagued him not much more than distant memories. He tried to tell himself to keep his mind sharp, but it was so difficult to stay focused when the air was rich with the aromas of a forest in spring and when the rays of sunlight kept making such pretty patterns on the ground wherever they made it through the foliage up above.
He was relieved to find that this curious daze lifted somewhat when they reached the city of the Elves. It was nighttime when they arrived and they had been able to see the shimmer of lights through the trees for a good long while since apparently the only entrance to Caras Galadhon lay in the south, making it necessary to circle the city before eventually entering it.
With each step Kíli's curiosity grew – so far his impression of Lothlórien had been rather bewitching and he could not help but wonder what its capital might achieve if the woods had already had such a profound effect on him. He was not disappointed.
From what he could tell, the city had been built into the giant trees, long, winding stairways climbing up, up, up into the treetops with platforms of various sizes floating impossibly high above their heads. Despite the lateness of the hour, life in the city was busy while at the same time a powerful sense of calm lay over the whole place. Kíli discerned the sounds of music and voices, all of them so pleasant that he could not help but feel drawn to them, curious as to where they came from.
He only realized that he had stopped walking when Tauriel gently tugged on his hand. He looked up to see her smile at him, his own excitement mirrored in her face even though she managed not look quite as overwhelmed as he felt.
Their guide did not turn to see if they were still following and so, after another awed stare at the tree houses up above, Kíli and Tauriel hurried to catch up with her. During their journey they had not spoken much to the Elves accompanying them and any conversation that had taken place had been done by Tauriel. Now, however, Kíli could no longer suppress his need to bring up a few things. He wanted – needed – to know what he was walking into.
"So Galadriel is already expecting us?" he asked Ingwen once he was close enough to not have to shout.
The elf inclined her head. "From what I know she knew you would come for some time now." Something akin to a smirk grazed her lips. "If she had not, you might have found your welcome to the lands of Lothlórien not quite as friendly as you did. It has been a long time since a dwarf has walked among the Mallorn trees."
Kíli did not quite know what to do with this piece of information. It was good, he supposed, that they had not come entirely unannounced, but at the same time Galadriel's apparent powers made him slightly uneasy to meet her. And what was that about dwarves in Lothlórien? It was not a surprise that most elves were not exactly fond of his own people, but Ingwen's remark made it sound almost as if, at some point in the past, the Galadhrim and the dwarves had been on friendly terms with each other.
Either way, Ingwen did not seem to expect him to say anything in return. Instead, she continued to lead them into the city. Kíli noticed that they were however not headed for its center, but seemed to walk along its outskirts. He could sense rather than see the uninhabited parts of the forest outside the wall which encircled the city, quiet, dark, empty. In any other place this might have been unsettling, but here it wasn't. It was hard to imagine anything threatening or dangerous lurking in the darkness – anywhere in Lothlórien for that matter.
When Ingwen guided them to a sizeable tent that was nestled between the roots of one of the giant trees – Mallorn the elf had called them – and told them that this was to be their abode during their stay, Kíli felt a curious mixture of relief and disappointment. He did prefer to stay close to the ground to sleeping in dizzying heights, but at the same time he would have loved for himself and Tauriel to spend the night closer still to the stars she held so dear.
"Refreshments will be brought to you within the hour," Ingwen informed them. "Other than that, should you lack any comforts, send for me. I shall leave you now, for the time being."
She gave a small bow which Tauriel returned. Kíli didn't because he felt sure that he would look quite foolish if he did. There was, however, one question which burned on his tongue.
"When will we brought before the Lady Galadriel?" He would have hated to be surprised by this meeting. There was nothing he could do to prepare for it, he knew that, but still he felt that at the very least he needed to know when it was to take place.
Ingwen's face was blank. "I have no instructions regarding that matter." Then, less coldly but not much more helpful, she added, "You will know when it is time. Until then, rest."
And with that she disappeared, her companions trailing behind her. Kíli and Tauriel turned to look at each other with raised eyebrows.
"Do you think we can trust them?" Kíli asked. His body suddenly felt quite fatigued, the long journey and the lateness of the hour finally catching up with him, and a good night's sleep sounded rather alluring.
He watched Tauriel debate the issue in her mind and was relieved when she concluded, "They have no reason to harm us. And even if they did, they would have done so already."
Kíli held out his hand to her. She, too, looked like she craved some rest, even if the signs of fatigue were far more subtle in her case. "Join me, then?"
After such a long time on the road where one – or both – of them had always had to stay alert, simply lying down together sounded just about divine. Still, Kíli would not have been surprised should Tauriel have offered to keep watch while he rested – had he not been quite certain that he would fall asleep sitting up, he might even have considered offering doing just that. As it was, his heart gave a happy little flutter when her eyes softened and she reached out to curl her fingers around his, her cheeks slightly pink as she nodded her consent.
As they ducked into the entrance of the tent, their faces warm and both of them a little breathless, Kíli suddenly found that sleep was not quite as far up in his list of priorities as it had been just moments ago. Oh well. He supposed that he could stay awake a little while longer after all.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
It felt strange to once more have a roof over their heads which separated them from the night sky as they lay curled up around each other, Tauriel's head resting on Kíli's bare chest while his arm was looped around her shoulder, his fingers playing idly with the strands of her impossibly silky hair.
The tent, it turned out, was far more comfortable than any tent Kíli had ever slept in. Mahal, probably even more comfortable than most of the bedrooms he'd seen the inside of over the course of his life. Then again, that was hardly a surprise. When traveling, dwarves usually just brought what was absolutely necessary; even such a simple thing as a tarp to sleep under would have been regarded as excessive luxury. And as for his life in Ered Luin... It had been relatively simple, too, a narrow cot in a small room which he had shared with his brother the only bed he could remember.
When he had still been quite young, he had sometimes bristled at the fact that everyone would always talk of how he and Fíli were princes when his life was so modest and not at all how he imagined his royal ancestors had lived. Thorin and Dís had smiled at his adolescent indignation, but there had always been something else in their eyes, a sadness, maybe, and longing. So much longing.
Only now, that he had seen the kingdom of Erebor himself and had gotten an inkling of its former grandeur did he understand both that longing and the reason why he had grown up in such bleak circumstances. Having watched their home, that most glorious of all Dwarven settlements, being ripped from them, Thorin and his sister clearly had not had the heart to even attempt creating a place for themselves in the image of the royal halls of Erebor. They must have known, as Kíli did now, that such a place would always fall painfully short of the original and had thus chosen a plain life over one of abundance.
As he had grown up, Kíli had been grateful for their choice and for the way he and Fíli had been raised. That way, even if they had never seen Erebor with their own eyes, they had been able to develop a passion for reclaiming the homeland of their people, for restoring wealth and glory to the line of Durin, that they might not have found in their hearts had they grown up with more comforts and riches.
Still, he was not above enjoying cushions as soft as the ones which he was currently resting on, nor did the luxurious fabrics of the blankets Tauriel had covered them both in fail to elicit a soft, content sigh from his lips. Experience had taught him to always remain cautious, but he allowed himself the thought that, for a change, they were in a good place, both literally and figuratively.
With Tauriel's head tucked under his chin, the scent of her hair filling him to the brink with happiness, he wondered, once more, how what they had come here to do would affect him, them, their place in the world. He soon found, though, that he was simply too tired to follow his mind down the endless paths it kept creating, and too blissfully relaxed to work himself into a state of unrest. Instead, he welcomed sleep in a way he had not done for quite some time, drifting into oblivion without the sense of imminent danger pricking at the back of his skull.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Come, then.
Kíli awoke, not with a start exactly, but still quite suddenly, his mind going from complete idleness to full alertness within seconds. He sat up, straining both ears and eyes for a sign of what had woken him. It was dark, still, but since the city was always illuminated at nighttime, there was plenty of light to be able to see.
Their tent was empty and everything seemed in exactly the same place they had left it in before going to sleep on their third night in Caras Galadhon. A slight weight across his stomach made him gaze down and he noticed that Tauriel was quite deeply asleep, a state he now knew was not impossible for her to reach, but just something that she did not very often feel the need for. He considered waking her, but since he sensed no imminent danger whatsoever, he deemed it quite unnecessary to disturb her. Also, he was not entirely sure if he was really awake himself, or if maybe this was a strange, rather uneventful dream.
That was when he felt a tug in his chest, an overwhelming desire to get up and leave the tent building in him until he could stand it no longer and carefully untangled himself from his sleeping lover. Careful not to make any noise he pulled his tunic over his head and stepped into his trousers before slipping out of the tent and into the night. As he lifted his head to gaze at the sky visible through the treetops, he noted that it had to be close to dawn. The air was cool, but not enough to make him shiver and he ground felt slightly damp and pleasantly soft beneath his bare feet.
The pressure inside of him had eased upon exiting their tent, but it was still there, still urging him to move. This was quite unusual and more than a little unsettling – he should wake Tauriel, after all, and tell her what was happening.
Come, then. You are quite safe.
The fact that there was a voice in his head that was not his own should have sent him into a right state of panic, but instead he felt a powerful sense of calm wash over him. Yes. He was safe. And before he knew it, his feet had begun to move, choosing his path for him without him having to think about it at all.
Surely, this was just a dream. And since nothing about it reminded him of the nightmares which still plagued him more often than he was prepared to admit, he decided to simply follow along with it and see where it would take him.
As he walked among the Mallorn trees, the sounds of the city – soft music, low voices, occasional laughter even at this time of night – grew more and more distant until all he could hear were the sounds of the forest itself. He could not tell exactly for how long he had walked when he came upon a narrow set of steps, made of stone and more ancient than anything he had seen so far in this city of the Elves.
He could not see where the curved stairway led, but, driven by that same blind trust that had touched him before, he began his slow descend, the stone smooth and cold beneath the soles of his feet. Distracted by his unusual surroundings, Kíli soon lost count of his steps, but when he paused to gaze up at a statue looming over him, he thought that he had to have climbed down at least 50 steps already and he still could not see his destination. Rounding a corner, he finally saw the stairs merge into a small clearing.
The air was slightly colder down here and he involuntarily crossed his arms in front of his chest as he gazed around. In the centre of the clearing stood a pedestal made of stone and overgrown by moss and vines. On top of it, a rather flat, round object rested. A basin of some sort. It was empty, but somewhere to his right he could hear the trickling sound of water, and for some reason he just knew that the basin needed – wanted – to be filled with it.
Will you come look inside the mirror? The voice in his head spoke up once again, causing him to give a slight start. Still, he was not afraid.
"What will I see when I do?" he asked as he slowly crossed over to the pedestal, feeling a bit silly to be talking out loud to a voice only he could hear.
"I cannot tell you for certain." This time, he started more visibly, drawing a sharp breath into his lungs. The voice was suddenly not inside his head anymore, but came from a tall, blond elf-woman who had suddenly appeared on the other side of the pedestal. Galadriel, without the shadow of a doubt. She was… unlike any creature Kíli had ever laid eyes upon. Beautiful beyond measure. Her beauty, however, was not the kind you absorbed and delighted in. Kíli found himself thinking that it hurt to look at her in the same way that looking at the sun for too long scorched your eyes.
He pulled his gaze away from her face and looked at her hands instead. In them, she held a silver flagon from which she proceeded to slowly pour water into the basin. "The mirror may show many different things to the person who gazes into it. Things that were… things that are… and some things," she emptied the last of the water into the basin "that have not yet come to pass."
The past, the present, and the future. Kíli frowned. "How could something that has not even happened yet, explain why I am—" he paused, wondering if he needed to elaborate on the reason why he had come here. He concluded that he did not, seeing as Galadriel would not have summoned him if she did not already know his intentions. "Why I am what I am," he finished, not entirely happy with his lack of eloquence there.
"The answers which the mirror holds are not always easy to decipher, nor do they always please the one who asks the question," the powerful she-elf replied, her expression friendly, but detached. "Will you look nevertheless?"
Kíli hesitated. Seeking truth from a basin filled with water was most definitely something his kinsmen would have deemed Elven sorcery and thus a thing not to be trusted. Then again, he had always known that the reason for their journey to Lothlórien were precisely those particular powers of Galadriel. So, in a way, it was already too late to turn back anyway.
Exhaling slowly, he stepped forward until he stood right before the stone pedestal. He was glad to find that he was able to comfortably bend over the basin and look inside without having to ask for a stool or something – that would have been quite humiliating. He gripped the edges of the basin to steady his suddenly shaky hands and lifted his eyes to gaze at the smooth surface of the water.
To be continued...
