Author's Note:

I thank you all for your patience. The next few will thankfully come quickly I think, as I struggle to detail this complex tale. I have the important parts already written. Oh the times, they are a-changin…

RIP Dr. Spock. We will miss you.

As always, my loves, thank you for your reviews and well wishes: Vi-Violence, mfaerie32, Tuonra, moonpetals16, Haku'slover18, Karmakitten, Feursuoh, Celebrisilwth, Amber85, KaramelKat, Margaritasc, kasmira36, Adm. J. Kirk McGill…

AW


It was a chilly morning highlighted by a hazy, pale sun that greeted him the next day in Dale when Bard awoke before everyone else and went to make his morning rounds. Dale was once great, that was easy to see. Most of the survivors family groups had found places to stay, for the sturdier structures were still mostly intact and many of the roofs still able to give shelter from the light snowfall last night. Destroyed, mangled and twisted old trees and smashed furniture was used as fuel for the fires now in the hearths throughout the town. Bard thought upon the overnight, and his unenviable position this day…

Once Bard had returned the previous dusk, he helped his kids get comfortable in the new space they now called home, lit a fire, and they fell to sleep quicker than he thought they would, given all that had happened. Yet sleep would not take Bard; he remained awake until the middle of the night, and eventually he rose and wandered the old, now quiet, littered streets as the ever watchful rows of soldier elves stood on the terraces and atop the walls above.

Bard felt strangely accustomed in this place that was new to him. But Dale was not new to his ancestors. The town looked and felt damaged, and echoed with memory, and hurt. One could imagine Dale was laden with spirits of those taken for no good reason too quickly by a dark beast. Within these walls, the weight of responsibility for his people rested firmly upon his shoulders; he felt it more now than ever. He, a lowly bargeman, was now who the people of Laketown looked to for leadership, for salvation. Could he live up to the task?

He looked up towards the hill and saw the low light of the small fire Tauriel said she would maintain, wondering how it was that all had come to this, an apparent silent standoff between elves and man on one side, and a small company of dwarves in an abandoned, rich kingdom on the other. He glanced up at the soldier elves again. On a hunch, he climbed the sloping streets and steps up to the old hall of Dale, where the King of Mirkwood now resided. Upon his arrival, the guards that surrounded the king's quarters moved aside for him, before he could even bow his head and gingerly ask to see their king.

"Enter, Bard." He heard the elven king's low voice beckon from within. Bard walked up the stairs to the highest level.

Thranduil was at the far end, beyond the smashed walls of the dome, close to the edge of what would be called a terrace now. He had his royal head turned away, his pale, long hair loose, without a crown, yet perfect over a rich crimson robe that flowed down beyond his feet. Bard entered in between the stands of the grand tent of the king, pausing for a second to nod his head in reverence.

"My Lord Thranduil." Bard said. Thranduil's penetrating eyes turned upon Bard.

"You amble about til hours late this night." Thranduil said.

"Aye…and so do you." Bard said, approaching him slowly, coming to stand a respectable distance next to the great king. Before their feet now lay the flickering fires of Dale, its great walls, and the bridges beyond, and in the dark distance, the fires without and within Erebor glowed. Bard looked over at it and breathed deeply.

"Sleep does not take elves as it does men in the dark hours of the night." Thranduil said, turning his head to gaze back at the bowman. "Does an unsettled soul bid you wake?" Bard nodded, looking insistently into the intense grey orbs, which seemed a bit shaded.

Thranduil strolled over to his crystal decanters and poured a shimmering burgundy glass of wine. From the looks of it, Bard thought, many such glasses had been poured this night already. He raised the mostly empty holder to Bard in a sign of offering. Bard smiled, but politely refused with a shake of the head and a raised hand.

"I am worried about what the future holds between the peoples of Dale and Erebor, now that other than a dragon now oversees these lands." Bard said. Thranduil guffawed lightly and glanced over to Erebor.

"The dwarves are not being very engaging. Surely they must know we have arrived." Thranduil said, a smirk on his lips. "They have not even yet sent out a party in greeting…"

"Yes, I am sure they know we are here; but with the armed elven host upon our walls, from their perspective, it may not seem welcoming." Bard retorted. He leaned in a bit. "Thorin may be many things, but he is no fool." Thranduil huffed, and turned around to Bard with little flourish.

"Truth be told, my good man, I have not only come to this valley to act as escort or defend if dark creatures descend upon Dale and the mountain." Thranduil said, staring out across the land, to the opening of the Lonely mountain. "I came to reclaim something of mine…" Thranduil said, his glare one that could melt stone.

"What is that?" Bard said.

"There are gems in that mountain I too desire… gems of pure starlight…The white gems of Lasgalen." Thranduil said, with eyes widening, as if gazing upon their beauty right then and there. "I will see them finally returned to me…by force if need be." Thranduil growled, his hard gaze now back upon Bard.

"By force to what end? Would you go to war over a handful of gems?" Bard said. Thranduil glared at him.

"The heirlooms of my people are not so easily forsaken." He snapped. Bard's throat tightened.

"My people too have a claim upon the riches within that mountain." He insisted.

"True." Thranduil said, sheepishly. "But Thorin may be now mad with gold and may not agree."

"I still believe we first try reason." Bard insisted. He thought for a second about Kili, and his hope that the young dwarf would help, but thought against talking about it. It would do no good to bring up those memories, given what happened between Thranduil and Kili. He breathed a slow breath. "So much ill will has fallen upon that damned treasure, I would only ask for what is owed us, what we need to resettle, no more." Bard said. "I will try anything to avoid more bloodshed and death…we have seen enough of that." He insisted. Thranduil looked at Bard with wide, almost sorrowful eyes. Yet like a dark veil, anger again colored him.

"Think what you must of me, but know this… I do not desire needless bloodshed." Thranduil said in a dark, foreboding tone. "Even the blood of stubborn dwarves." Bard straightened up and looked at Thranduil in the eye.

"I think of you as an invaluable ally of my people, my lord." Bard said sincerely, not wishing to offend. "I know you have within you the wisdom of the ages and are duly just. I know you will do what is both prudent and necessary." Bard said, his hand on his chest and his head down with deference. Thranduil looked away.

"If you still wish to negotiate with the dwarf, I will not deter you." Thranduil said, lips pursed. He took a deep drink of his cup and turned back to Bard. "But if Thorin does refuse; we will have no choice but to become more forceful in the following days." He said, stroking his glass lightly, a stern, almost wicked expression on his face.

"Of course, my Lord. For all our sakes." Bard agreed. Thranduil looked back at him with warning, and turned around, walking a few steps.

"Good luck on your discussions in the morrow, Bard." He said. "You will need it." Thranduil said, looking down upon his now empty glass of wine, pausing to look at Bard. "Are you sure you do not want any?" Bard smirked, shook his head and looked down.

"I think I will take that drink after all." He murmured.

Thranduil and Bard walked back into the tent, and after pouring Bard a glass of wine, Thranduil sat upon a grandiose chair, a throne in situ, of sorts. Thranduil looked thoughtfully out the gaping hole in the dome, his eyes drawn to a single, soft flicker of light upon a foothill of the southern spur of the mountain. Thranduil's expression changed before Bard, to one of questioning suspicion.

"Who now tends the fire now in the fort on the rise the dwarves call Raven Hill?" He asked.

"A sentinel, my lord, to warn us at first sight if anything untoward comes this way from the north or west." Bard answered, hoping to all the gods the questions would cease there…

Thranduil looked at Bard with an unwavering stare, laced with a touch of knowing…yet he did not further his questioning. The great king stood up and walked slowly back to the edge of the terrace, looking up at the hill. Bard followed behind him slowly. They stood quietly; Bard drank every last drop of wine from his glass, the tension making him thirst.

"Bard…did your children ever disobey you…betray you?" Thranduil asked, his eyes distant, his face with a forlorn expression beneath a stony gaze.

"No, my Lord, but there is time yet for that; they are still young." Bard said, pursing his lips. Thranduil glanced back at him briefly, then continued his dark stare into the night.

"But they respect you." Thranduil said, in a low voice, bitterly. "And love you." he said, almost wistfully.

"Even so, my Lord…" Bard continued carefully, disturbed by the discussion. "One day, they may very well do such things that I feel they betray me." Bard said. Thranduil grunted and shook his head.

"You expect such insolence?" Thranduil questioned, a slight wrinkle between his brows.

"No, but…children…I know they come into their own, with their own will and way." Bard answered, pensively. "If I have brought them up as I should have, I trust they will do what they feel they must, even to the opposition of my wishes, even if it offends me." Bard said. "As I age, so will they… and wisdom and wit must care for them beyond the time when I cannot." Thranduil sighed and glanced back again, a bit longer this time.

"And what if they commit the most grave of offenses against you, what do you then?" Thranduil said, in a barely audible voice. Bard stood still, humbled. He felt the great king was opening up to him in ways he could not have imagined. Thranduil had probably never been opposed, ever, in his long life. Bard blinked his eyes, bewildered, pursed his lips and looked down, thinking for a moment.

"I would try to remember how much I love them..." Bard said, with the image of his beloved children in his mind's eye. "…and try to eventually forgive them."

"There is no freedom to forgive, at times." Thranduil said, his voice lowered, seeming a bit darker. An awkward moment of silence grew between the unlikely allies. Bard nodded and looked down at his empty goblet of wine.

"Forgiveness…sometimes, my lord, can itself be freedom." Bard replied.


Tauriel watched over the landscape as the coming morning slowly, moment by moment, turned the surrounding lands from black, to grey, then into dampened colors as the morning haze made everything seem flat, dimensionless. Kili had eventually retired from his watch in the pre-dawn hours, so she tired from looking towards Erebor. The night was not as bad as she had expected, but she was beginning to feel a bit lonely. As the sun finally burned more of the wispy haze from the sky, she saw and heard a young man climbing up the mountainside. She smiled and waved;Bard had sent his son there as promised, quite early. When Bain finally reached up to the top of the hill, he looked around, in awe, wide eyed.

"Wow…this is great!" Bain said, and then he pulled his coat closer. "Cold though…" Tauriel smiled at the young man.

"Well if you think so about the morning, you would not have liked the night chill." She said. Bain nodded and looked up at her a bit shyly.

"Da just wanted me to come here to see what it was like… up here... with breakfast… and, um, to see if you needed anything ." Bain said. Tauriel smirked.

"He is checking on me." She said. Bain grimaced and shrugged, nodding. Tauriel laughed and patted the boy on the back. "I know… don't worry. Your fathers concern just means he cares. And, to be truthful, I certainly don't mind the company." She said. She tilted her head to the side. "Well, let me show you inside where it is warmer…" she said, as she led Bain into the fort.

Tauriel and Bain ate breakfast and then she looked on, following at a close distance on as he wandered around the old, dark fort, picking up interesting artifacts, inspecting weapons, all the while telling her about their settling into Dale. He finally looked up at her with an inquisitive look. Tauriel instinctively knew the conversation was about to get more personal.

"So…if you don't mind me asking…" Bain started, then he paused, the skin on his young cheeks taking on a ruddy hue. "oh…never mind." He said, looking down, flipping the short dwarf sword now in his hand around awkwardly. Tauriel pursed her lips and stood still, until his eyes rose to hers. He seemed almost embarrassed.

"What do you want to know?" Tauriel laughed internally. From the looks of Bain, he was quite young, but not still a child. Tauriel was not so old as to forget it; this age between child and adulthood she remembered only too well…such an uncomfortable, awkward stage in life it was…

"I don't mean to pry…" he said, shaking his head.

"Now, now. If you are to be coming here calling upon me as a friend does, you should be able to speak to me as one." she said, gently. Bain looked at her and took a deep breath.

"Why did you help the dwarf? I mean…I saw what you did in our house at Laketown…and Da told me what you did for him yesterday…" he said, pursing his lips. Tauriel looked at Bain seriously, trying to formulate an answer, but her attention was drawn by distant sounds of a horse galloping on rocky terrain. She stood up and went out on the terrace closest to where they were.

There in the distance, she saw a horse galloping over the bridge, towards Erebor alone, a rider atop with a vestment of faded blue. She shaded her eyes. It was Bard. By that time, Bain was besides her.

"It is your father…" She said, looking at Bain. His eyes widened and he looked into the valley.

"Yes…he said he would be speaking to the dwarves today…or trying to, at least." Bain said, with a worried, slightly disappointed expression. "I wanted to go with him. He would not let me." He huffed. Tauriel looked between him and Bard and nodded.

"That conversation is most likely not one that the dwarf would have with an audience. " She said. Curiosity, however gripped her. "But it would be an interesting one…"

"I know…but I do worry for Da…" Bain admitted. "I fear the dwarf does not think much about any but himself and his kin." She looked at Bain with a slightly concerned look.

"Well, would you like to get closer?" she said. Bain's eyes opened up and he nodded eagerly, his dark, wavy locks loosely bouncing around his head.

Tauriel and Bain made their way stealthily and quickly over the rocky terrain and climbed up to a ridge on the sheer face of the mountain, about as close as they could get to the doors of Erebor without being seen. They crouched below the jagged stone, and sat silent as statues, just as Bard approached the entrance of Erebor.

As they looked on, Thorin, Fili, Kili and Dwalin appeared at the terrace above the door with weapons in hand as Bard slowed and paused before the bridge. Tauriel sucked in a breath as she focused on Kili, who was now standing next to his beloved brother, his uncle on the other side. He was wearing his golden mail, the royal blue vestment peeking out underneath. His expression was one of sternness, brows knit, shoulders squared, an angulated sword in his grasp. Thorin looked down at Bard with a harsh, slightly disapproving expression.

"Hail, Thorin, son of Thrain. We are glad to find you alive beyond hope." Bard said loudly.

"Why do you come to the gates of the King under the mountain armed for war, yet say you are glad that I live?" Thorin said, unyielding in his expression, making it obvious he was not willing to spend nary a second on niceties. Bard pursed his lips; already he saw this was not going at all the way he would have liked. Stubborn dwarves…He looked down at the large stone door within the besieged entrance.

"Why would the King under the mountain shut himself in, like a robber in his hole?" Bard said, holding on to his patience. Certainly Thorin would know what their stance looked like.

"Perhaps it is because I am expecting to be robbed…by those who approach my gate with pleasantries as if I cannot see beyond their shoulders." Thorin spat. Bard shook his head and changed his tone.

"My Lord…we have not come to rob you…but to seek fair settlement." Bard said, earnestly. "Will you not speak with me, as men of honor do?" He pleaded. Thorin stood back a little away from the stone and seemed to ponder the question a second.

"Approach on foot." Thorin said, in a low voice, as he nodded slowly and tossed his head, turning around and slowly heading back out of view.

A large raven flapped effortlessly from the terrace on the face of Erebor. Tauriel's eyes followed it; it flew west, its cry echoing off the stone mountain face around them. Tauriel knit her brows…what was it with the ravens around this dwarf kingdom?

Bard wrinkled his brows and dismounted, staring at the stone door before him slowly. He stepped carefully over the bridge and stopped short when he heard a hollow scraping coming from the stone wall before him. A slim stone door swung open. Out came Thorin, looking every bit the King at this time; royal vestments on his shoulder, mail upon his chest. He had on a stony, dark expression, one that did not seemingly desire to negotiate.

Tauriel looked back down as the two men approached each other, just beyond the arching entrance. They spoke in low whispers.

"I can't hear them…" Bain said. Tauriel looked back at the boy, then back towards the confrontation. Tauriel listened intently, and recounted the conversation to Bain.

"Your father is speaking on behalf of the men of Laketown…and requesting that Thorin honor his pledge of a share of the treasure so that they can rebuild..."

"That he did promise…we all heard him." Bain said. Tauriel continued.

"Thorin is refusing to agree to anything while an armed host stands before him…the elves…" Tauriel informed.

"He has a point…" Bain said, looking back at Dale. "But we did not ask for it to be thus…"

"Bard is warning him that the elves will attack if they do not agree on some terms…" She said, her eyes growing wider with worry. In the distance, Thorin shook his head and turned away from Bard. "Thorin said he is not swayed by these threats…" Tauriel repeated. Bain's eyes grew wide with worry. Bard continued as they listened.

"He will not agree…I know it…" Bain whispered. Tauriel shushed him gently…

"Your father is calling on Thorin's conscience; insisting that their cause is just. He said the Lakemen helped them and Thorin brought upon them only ruin and death." Tauriel said. With that exchange, they saw Thorin turn around, obviously inflamed, and he started to speak loudly, so they could all hear.

"When did the men of Laketown come to our aid but for the promise of rich reward?" Thorin spat.

"A bargain was struck!" Bard insisted, their voices echoing. Thorin looked at Bard incredulously, shaking his head.

"A bargain? What choice did we have but to bargain our birthright for blankets and food? To ransom our future in exchange for our freedom?" Thorin growled. "You call that a fair trade?" Bard backed up a bit, turning around, his hand upon his beard.

Tauriel glanced back at Bain.

"I heard that one…" Bain said, his young brows knit. Tauriel nodded, and turned her attentions back to the doors of Erebor. She glanced up for a moment to where Kili stood. He too was looking over the bannister, his brother besides him, whispering to each other, eyes intent upon the conversation below. For seconds it was quiet. Then Thorin continued…

"Tell me, Bard the Dragonslayer…" Thorin said, as Bard spun around to look at him incredulously. "Why should I honor such terms?" Bard stood up straight, and came in a little closer to Thorin.

Tauriel heard what Bard said next, but Bain could not.

"Because you gave us your word." Bard insisted, in a low voice. "Does that mean nothing?"

Thorin looked at Bard, myriad of expressions crossing over his regal features. Then anger remained. He spun around and marched back into Erebor with this order…

"Begone! Ere the arrows fly!" Thorin shouted.

Bard stood in shock as Thorin walked away. Bard then balled his fists, grunting his disapproval in anger. The small stone passageway in the slab slammed shut after Thorin entered. Bard looked up to the top of the terrace, exasperated, where both Fili and Kili stood, looking on with disbelief and disappointment on their faces. They looked at each other and back at Bard, pursing their lips. Bard shook his head, anger and frustration on his fine features. He growled and got back on his horse, riding hard back to Dale.

Back up on the ridge, Bain fell back onto the irregular rocky ground in confusion and worry.

"What did Da say to get him so angry?" Bain asked Tauriel. Tauriel looked at Bain with sadness…

"Your father said that Thorin gave his word, and then asked him…if his word meant nothing." She said, quietly. Bain knit his brows and shook his head in confusion.

"But…by doing what he is doing…Thorin is going back on his word…" Bain said. "Right?" he asked the elf. Tauriel pursed her lips and shook her head.

"Thorin refuses to honor a devils bargin, a promise given under duress." She said, as Bain put his hand to his head and shook it.

"But it does not make sense…" he started, and then looked back at Tauriel. "To help us is the right thing to do…" Bain insisted. Tauriel shook her head sadly, dread coming over her.

"It is not that simple, to him…" She said.

"What does this all mean?" Bain moaned. "What will happen now?" Tauriel looked back at him and sighed.

"Nothing good shall come of this…for any of us." She said. Bain looked away, saddened, and started crawling out of the nook they had wedged themselves in, on his way back to the fort.

Tauriel stayed back for a moment, looking sadly back at Erebor. Fili and Kili were still up there, looking on as Bard rode away, shocked and disappointed. At this distance Tauriel could see every detail of their expressions, the designs on their outfits, but she could not hear the urgent whispers they were exchanging. She could only guess what the brothers were talking about. The fact was, their uncle and King had declared war on their neighbors, and the princes knew it.

Fili seemed more resigned, however, and he patted the leather pauldron on his brother's shoulder as he walked away from the terrace, shaking his head. Kili looked back at him briefly, then looked out over the dry, cold stark valley towards Dale, such worry and sadness on his face, it made Tauriel's chest ache. She saw his wide shoulders rise and fall with a large sigh, and then he hung his head in dismay. She practically felt Kili's anguish.

The least she could do was let Kili know she still lived, and was with him in spirit. Slowly, Tauriel stood up and quietly whistled three notes of a thrushsong as she looked intently at the dwarf on the ledge. She knew Kili heard her signal when his head popped up, his eyes wide as he scanned her way. Their eyes came into contact and she saw Kili gasp, a wisp of a smile fluttering over his lips as his mouth opened with surprise. Then she saw Fili come back, approaching Kili from behind and Tauriel dropped down out of view.

Tauriel held her breath and fought back the urge to stand up again. She knew she had to see Kili again…she just had to, but how? In any case, it would not be now. She crawled along, following Bain, out of sight, only rising when far enough away to not be seen.


The evening came and stillness still occupied the space between Dale and Erebor. Kili stood as still as stone on the terrace just above the large, hulking opening of rock that was the entrance to Erebor, as stalwart and unblinking as the stone dwarves below. His black hair wafted freely with the brisk gusts, his sculpted brows were knit, his dark eyes and acute vision scanning the landscape endlessly. He was dressed in full amour, shiny, exquisitely shaped and formed, armor that molded and bent with every move of his muscular frame, as if he was there when they made it. He was also outfitted with clothes and boots below that fit him exactly; a homage to the craftsmanship of the dwarves that died long ago. But it all felt foreign.

After the heated discussion at the gate, Thorin descended into Erebor with new rage, and bid them follow his orders intently. He insisted that it was now time to defend the kingdom. A bit stunned, all the dwarves went dutifully to the weapons horde of Erebor, where the most magnificent swords, arrows, shields, lances, armor, and mail was found. The craftsmanship was so fine that the blades were still sharp enough to split hairs, the maces perfectly balanced to heft. Kili had looked upon the store with pride, seeing with his own eyes the skill of his ancestors, his people. Yet, he was deeply troubled about the reason for the use of these fine instruments…mortal instruments to be used on elves and man...

Before him, the low light from torches and lamps in the newly reoccupied city of Dale flickered here and there, but all was silent. There were elves lining terraces all about the stone city. He looked over the outlines of the buildings, beyond where he could see. He blinked his eyes slowly, straining to see something he hoped he would but suspected he would not…a flash of red hair, a forest green tunic. He did see her once this day…for the briefest of moments, just a glimpse, so that he now thought it just a wishful vision, his eyes playing tricks upon him. He breathed a sigh, wondering if there would ever be any respite to this hole he now felt in his chest.

Kili remembered the joy he saw in his uncle's eyes when he saw him alive and well yesterday, but that was soon squelched by suspicion and accusation. That morning, when Kili retired from his watch, Thorin spent some time with him alone, as if to apologize for doubting him the night before. Kili relished the pride Thorin displayed when leading him around the halls, showing him the throne to sit in, as third in line, a position Thorin knew well when he was last in this, his kingdom. But with dread Kili also remembered the arguments that grew this afternoon, and in those beloved eyes, the intensity of purpose, but behind that…the burning embers of madness, flashing into flame. It seemed like the only other person willing to see it was their burglar, Bilbo, who was becoming more vocal and unbelieving of what he was witnessing in the leader of their company, their King. Bilbo spoke softly and urgently with Thorin several times this day, every time he left Thorin more disappointed, more worry knitting his brow. Thorin would not concede to reason. Kili recently, abruptly, left the heated discussion occurring in the throne room, volunteering yet again for the position as watch, as he had the day before.

It was better he leave the company of the other dwarves to make himself useful at night in this capacity, for he wanted to avoid discussions of war. Even more so, Kili was unable to sleep without dreams of gentle touches on porcelain skin; sparkling green eyes and rich, red lips; black and red hair falling together, which made him wake up aching, frustrated. And it was a good thing he was unable to eat, as well, for their supplies of food were not plenty. All in all, Kili was fairly miserable, even though he was with his kin, back in the halls of his ancestors, where he belonged. But the fact was he did not quite know where he wanted to be, anymore…

Kili heard the steady, strong steps approaching him up the stone stairs from the side. He turned to Fili as he came into view.

"Kili…" Fili nodded in greeting, his face a mask of concern and caution.

"Fili." Kili acknowledged in response, before turning his eyes again upon the fires of Dale. The brothers shared a silent, yet tense moment. Kili looked over at Fili. "You should be trying to get some sleep." He suggested.

"You should not just up and leave during such important discussions." Fili said. Kili rolled his eyes and grumbled.

"What discussions? Plans on waging war with the people who took us in, or the people who saved my life?" Kili snapped, staring hard at Fili. Fili shook his head.

"In the end there is no other choice. We have to defend the kingdom." Fili said. Kili guffawed and crossed his arms.

"How? We thirteen against the armies of men and elves?"

"Our brethren will come. From the Iron Hills. Thorin has sent word by raven…" Fili urged. Kili shot him a look and took a deep breath. "They will stand with us and fight."

"Brilliant. We rely on the flight of a mangy old bird for our survival. And even if Dain Ironfoot does come; what then? Bathe the valley in blood? What does that accomplish?" Kili ranted. "The perpetuation of hatred and malice. Rather than the pursuit of peace and the sharing of good fortune after such strife like a civilized people."

Fili pursed his lips and fell back against the stone wall, also frustrated.

"This is not as we wished or hoped it would be, Kili. I know." Fili said.

Again the silence arose between the brothers. Fili looked up at Kili, with a curious expression.

"Well…when are you going to talk to me?" He asked. Kili looked back at Fili, with a questioning, irritated glance.

"Talk to you about what?" Kili asked.

"What is the matter, Kili?" Fili said, approaching closer. "You have not been the brother I knew before since our return to Erebor." Kili stared into his brother's inquiring eyes.

"I don't know what you mean." Kili said, turning away, resuming his watch stance.

"I know something is troubling you, brother." Fili said softly, taking up residence against the bannister, well within Kili's visual frame. "You can't hide that from me." Kili resisted, but eventually, his eyes met his brothers' gentle hazel eyes.

"It's nothing." Kili insisted. Fili put his hand on his brother's armored shoulder.

"Now I know it is not nothing." Fili said. "And I feel it has little to do with what is happening here…"

Kili crossed his arms and turned away. Part of his heart was aching to tell his brother everything, to try to ease the pain eating away at his insides…He looked down, silently tracing the stones on the terrace floor. Fili easily saw his discomfort.

"What happened with the she-elf?" Fili asked quietly, his eyes hunting, searching Kili's face…Kili's blank mask faltered and he took a deep breath and looked away again. "Ah…so that's it." Fili said, walking around his younger brother.

"You won't understand." Kili said, softly, shaking his head. Fili rounded before him.

"Talk to me, Kili." Fili insisted. "I can't stand seeing you like this. I promise to try." Kili leaned up against the stone banister and took a few deep breaths, staring down. He looked up into the night. Into the stars…

"I miss her." Kili whispered. Fili knit his brows. "Tauriel…" Kili said, the word feeling sweet on his tongue, yet it stabbed him. He squinted.

Fili, to his credit, remained silent, despite his urge to groan in disbelief. Kili was always enamored with someone…

Oh no, my brother has lost his heart yet again…this one is quite…unfortunate. Unreasonable. So wrong in so many ways… Fili thought to himself.

"Why?" Fili managed to sneak out, instead of his urge to chastise his brother. "She is very kind, but…"

"I…I love her." Kili said, his voice low and somber. Fili's shoulders dropped.

Oh, no… this is serious… Fili sighed and closed his eyes, covering them. Fili uncovered his eyes and found his brother looking at him.

"You'll get over it. Eventually. Like all the other times." Fili said, trying to be helpful.

Fili remembered how Kili had a tendency to fall for women, ever since he was a tender youngling. Fili just did not understand those feelings, but their mother seemed to, and she coached Fili on how to soothe and tend to his passionate brother's propensities. Fili remembered having to learn how to talk with Kili, and remind him that his heart would not stop and he still would draw breath the next day every time he was disappointed. Fili hoped that he could convince him this time, and Kili would eventually see how hopeless it was to waste his energy on his feelings for this elf…there was no way she could feel the same way.

But yet, Fili thought back to Laketown. He had seen Tauriel with Kili; his brother was practically unconscious, yet Tauriel was holding his hand and looking at him with tenderness. And he recalled what he saw at the riverbed, when Kili and the red haired warrior stood close, and how Tauriel went up against her own king for his brother. At the very least, the she-elf cared about Kili, that Fili would admit. But love? No…no love could survive between dwarf and elf.

Kili looked up at the sky again, shaking his head. Kili was no longer the naive little brother Fili thought he was. These past few days had aged him more than the preceding three decades…

"This is not like any other time." Kili said, folding his arms around himself, walking slowly. "Tauriel men amral, men tessu." He breathed.

Fili gasped. What Kili had uttered in their sacred tongue was words of the deeply spiritual, sacred oath of dwarrow betrothal. It was never spoken lightly, for to do so would have been accursed blasphemy. The closest literal translation in Westron was 'she is my love, my everything.'

"Kili…stop talking like that. It is madness." Fili insisted. Kili walked around Fili slowly, the memories flowing over him, over his expressions. Fili saw it, and sensed the heavy sincerity in his brother's attitude.

"We spent several beautiful days in the woods..." Kili recounted. "I fell for her like no other before her." He looked at his brother, who was looking more and more incredulous. "We…spent the nights… together." Kili stammered.

"No, you can't mean it…" Fili whispered, shock and awe on his face. Kili pursed his lips.

"Oh yes." Kili said, looking at Fili sharply, just to make sure they were both thinking the same thing. "I do mean it." The message had been received, clearly. Fili stared at him, open mouthed and incredulous.

"By my beard…" Fili said, in wide eyed disbelief. "I did not even think that possible…between…" Kili nodded and opened his arms.

"Well, it is, I assure you, quite possible." Kili insisted. Then his eyes misted over and he stared into thin air, his eyes focusing in the distance. "And quite…amazing…" he said, longingly. Fili threw up his arms and huffed.

"Kili…I don't believe you did what you say…Ugh…everything about it is wrong…just everything." Fili growled. "How could you?" he questioned. Kili shook his head, a bit disappointed his brother was so rigid.

"Look, Fili, I know what you think; that I have done some heinous thing…but I tell you…" Kili said, holding his brother's shoulders. "I have never felt…so alive…so…happy…so…complete, as when I am with her." Kili whispered, his eyes filled with sincerity, staring into his brother's doubting ones. "Is that not love?" Kili questioned, his voice filled with emotion.

Fili pursed his lips, his armor being breached just a bit at his brother's insistence. Kili, his brother, the passionate, reckless, fearless young warrior that gave everything his all and never hesitated, and never looked back. He shook his head. What a mess he had gotten himself into…

"Kili…I don't know what it is…but I do see is this. You have lost your heart…and your mind." Fili said. Kili's face fell flat with disbelief and he backed away. "But I do believe you think you love her." Fili acquiesced, his lips pursed. Kili sighed. At least his brother believed that.

"Well brother, that is why I am the way I am. Walking around like one dead." Kili said, pursing his lips. "I am in love with a warrior elf, from a kingdom that will soon be at war with Erebor." Kili said, with a bitter guffaw. It hurt to think of her, but Kili did feel a little bit of that stifling weight off his shoulders, now that his brother knew.

"Alright, alright. If we must abandon reason for a moment, and we must, to even consider this." Fili said, breathing a frustrated sigh, waving his hands, walking around his brother. "Well, how does she feel?" he asked. "Does she…love you?" Fili asked, his voice low, his eyes squinting, as if just the thought was distasteful.

"She said she does…" Kili said, with a little hope, yet sadly. Fili groaned.

"Then you both have lost your wits." Fili huffed. "She should know better…she must be older and wiser than you…do you even know how old she is?" Fili asked.

"About 600 years…" Kili said. "Still quite young, for an elf, I think." Kili said, in a soft voice. Fili stopped short, looked at Kili, then looked in front of him, shaking his head with frustration.

"And what do you expect to do, run away and live together, alone? You cannot dwell in either world together, elf or dwarf." Fili said.

"We did not think upon such details before things…just happened…" Kili said, leaning back on the stone barrier, an exasperated look on his face. Fili took a few steps and then dropped his shoulders in realization. He looked back at Kili, a look of sadness on his face. Fili knew this of elves; like dwarves, they usually only promised their hearts but once in a lifetime, but the life of an elf was so much longer…

"She will live…well beyond your years, Kili." Fili said softly, shaking his head. "What then, for her?" Fili said, sadly, not wanting to chastise his brother any more. That would do no good.

"I know, Fili." Kili said, in an anguished whisper, leaning on the banister with his elbow, his face covered by his hands. "I know." Fili walked over next to him. He felt badly for Kili, because he knew that important, undeniable fact was hurting Kili. As it should, if he truly loved the elf…Fili took a deep breath and patted him on the back.

Whee-ee-whit

The sound of a quiet, shrill whistle sounded in the night. It seemed to be coming from far away. Kili shot up, off the banister, his eyes wide, gasping. Fili jumped back. Kili looked around, his eyes searching…The last time he heard whistles like that, he was looking out over the quiet landscape, after Thorin and Bard held their so called "negotiations". When Kili looked around for the source of the whistle then, all he saw was the bright auburn flash of hair and the briefest of glances from a red haired elf, just before she disappeared behind a stone on the rise to his right …

"What? Its just a bird…" Fili said, looking out into the dark.

"No its not…" Kili whispered, before repeating the same three little whistles. He was answered, and it came from up on the rise nearby, to the right of the entrance again. Kili squinted.

Yes, in the dark, he could see it. The outline of a tall, elegant elf against the stars. She jumped down, out of view. Fili saw it too, and he turned to look to his brother. Kili swallowed hard and held his brother's shoulders.

"It is her…" he said, excitement in his eyes, and for the first time in days, a smile fluttered over Kili's lips. Fili pursed his lips. Kili looked back toward the rise and gasped, his heart feeling just a little bit lighter, despite the heavy conversation he had been having. The joy at seeing Tauriel wiped away his sadness . He looked at Fili. Fili had his arms crossed with an expression just as cross on his face. Kili pursed his lips and swallowed hard.

"Fili, I have to go to her…" Kili said. Fili looked as if he was about to explode.

"What?!" Fili responded, in a loud whisper. "Where are you going, what are you going to do?" Kili squeezed his brother's shoulders, with urgency.

"I don't know…Please, try to understand, brother. If I don't go now, I will never forgive myself…or you." Kili said, the true words hurting him to say. He knew the awkward position he was putting his brother in. Fili blinked at him, angry, disbelieving and hurt.

"You are crazy to go…what…what if it's a trap?" Fili countered. A calmness floated over Kili's face. He shook his head.

"It's not. I know it." He assured him. "Besides; I've already been her prisoner…it's not so bad." Kili said, with a small smile.

Fili huffed, and shook away his beloved brother's grasp. He glared at the rise. There she was again, crouched down, the long hair wafting in the breeze, about fifty paces closer to Erebor. The light was flickering from the torches, just a bit brighter there and he could see the intensity in her eyes, focused on Kili. She was waiting for Kili, this elf-warrior. Waiting for his little brother...

Fili looked back at Kili, and saw the hope and longing in his eyes, his face in a gentle smile, so much different than the blank stares of sadness that they had been since he walked into the lonely mountain a few days ago. Deep in his gut, Fili knew he had to let Kili go his way, but it made him fearful and sad…Fili stifled back his emotion. He was not yet ready for that…

"Promise me you will return, Kili." Fili said. Kili blinked, as if shaking off a spell. He looked into his beloved brother's angry, desparate eyes.

"Of course, Fili…" he said. "I will always stand by you." Kili said, his eyes softening.

"I mean it. If I don't see you by morning, I swear, I will hunt her down and kill her myself." Fili growled.

"Understood." Kili said, a serious expression on his face. He scampered on by his brother.

Fili huffed, and looked back towards the rise. Tauriel was standing now, patiently waiting, her wide eyes now soft, pinned on him. She crossed her arm over her chest and bowed her head to him, a stern expression on her face. Fili knit his brows. He eventually took the silent sign as that of thanks, and he returned the same stern expression and a small nod.

He had no reason to feel Tauriel had anything other than good intent for Kili. This foray was dangerous, for them both, that he knew. Now he was privy to their unlikely affair he felt a bit humbled, but greatly worried. What could they possibly expect from this? It could not possibly work…Fili took a deep breath and looked away. They were both mature enough to make up their own minds. Was it really his place to question his brother for his actions, to insist that he stick with reason and common sense, and stop what he considered madness, starting and perpetuating a relationship with an elf?

As he thought more about this, Fili looked on, in disbelief, as he saw his brother stealthily slide down the thick rope one side of the balcony. He was in his regal, his dark clothes, his armor removed, but his sword on his belt. For a second, a wave of concern gripped Fili…what was he doing out without his armor? The concern faded away as he saw Kili approach Tauriel, and he saw them join hands. Tauriel looked at Kili with a softness and sweetness Fili instantly remembered seeing before; the same look he saw on her face at the riverbed. The sight of them together both shocked and reassured Fili.

Who was he to deny them both, despite the fact that the mutual attraction came from such an unlikely source? He watched on as they both scrambled up the rise and over, disappearing into the night. But Fili still closed his eyes and prayed for his brother because there were other beasts in the night to be concerned about.

On the other hand, Fili realized two warriors together would fight a better fight than one, so he sighed and set his fear aside as he continued his silent, solitary watch. It just happened that one of those warriors was his brother, and the other, unbelievably, his elf lover.