Chapter 38
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
A/N: TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE DAY OMG!
A shrill scream rent the night air, drawing Tauriel to it like a beacon. The orcs were in one of the houses; looking for Oakenshield, she didn't doubt, though she would've been surprised if he was still there. Regardless, she shared a quick look with Legolas—he was of a similar mind—and they sprinted toward the sound.
The house was on the edge of town, and swarming with orcs. Tauriel ran for the stairs, fully aware that Legolas was engaging two of the nasty creatures behind her, certain that he could handle it—and uncertain the humans inside the house would be as fit. She stabbed an orc in the neck as she walked in the door and complete chaos met her.
Two young human females cowered on the floor, the elder attempting to protect the younger, a human boy standing over them both with a kitchen knife. She counted three dwarves and caught sight of Miriel's daggers flashing before she was caught up in a fight of her own.
She stabbed and whirled, the cramped space making fighting difficult—but also meaning that every blow did damage to an enemy, there were so many of them in a confined space. The young boy showed great courage in defending the girls; the dwarves fought, despite their lack of forged weapons, and Miriel was a blur of motion, refusing to stray far from the young dwarf who lay on the bed.
Someone was screaming. The sound hurt his head and interrupted his concentration. It was already hard enough to fight the Dark without the screaming…
Ahhh, Son of Durin, now I will have you…
He opened his eyes, looking around wildly, frightened of how strange everything looked. All seemed cast in shadow, dark blurry orcs overrunning the house. Other figures fought back—two of them far too tall to be his kin or even the manlings in the house.
Elves?
One of the dark orcs grabbed his foot and yanked. He shouted and fought back, the Darkness surging through his veins, speaking to him, calling…
Come to me, Kíli, I can take away the pain.
A figure glowing silver stood over him, shoving the orc away and defeating it with a swing of a shining blade. He wriggled away from the creature's hold, falling off the bed in the process, the slight jarring bringing him back from the edge of the chasm in his mind.
"Kíli!" he heard a feminine voice shout. "Kíli, stay with us, just hang on a little longer!"
A little longer, I can hang on a little longer…
Hang on, Kíli….
Ryn whirled, flinging one of her daggers at the throat of a nearby orc and drawing the one at the sheath on her back. "Fíli!" she shouted, tossing him the knife, which he took gratefully and drove viciously into the chest of an orc about to take Bain's head off.
She turned back to find Kíli on the floor, shouting in agony, and Tauriel looking rather shocked above him. With the elleth's attention momentarily diverted, she nearly missed the orc at her back; but Ryn was there, ducking around her and driving the creature against the wall before slicing its throat.
Before she quite knew what had happened, it was over, the last of the monsters disappearing into the gloom outside. She breathed hard, laying her daggers down and reaching for Sigrid's hand. "Are you all right?"
The girl nodded, looking a little green. Ryn gave her a kind smile, before running to Kíli's side and kneeling, checking his aura.
He was nearly gone, poisonous black having taken over almost all of his aura.
"You killed them all," Bain murmured, awed and terrified.
"There are others," Legolas responded, walking toward the door briskly. "Tauriel."
Ryn wanted to scream. They couldn't be leaving, not yet!
"Legolas!" she cried. "Please, don't go."
The Mirkwood Prince stopped, looked at her a little sadly. "I must, Miriel. I will return soon. Come, Tauriel."
The Elf Captain stepped closer to him, but Ryn reached for her hand. "No Tauriel, please! We're losing him!"
Please, by Mahal and all the Valar, don't leave…..help him!
"Tauriel," Legolas commanded again, then left. The she-elf fought with herself for a moment, reaching for her daggers when she heard footsteps on the stairs outside, then taking a handful of a leafy plant with white flowers as Bofur stormed inside…
Athelas! Ryn exulted. Bofur had found some!
She turned her attention back to Kíli, crying out and writhing on the floor, and barely heard Bofur's, "What are you doing?"
Tauriel whispered, "I'm going to save him."
Darkness. It was everywhere, Kíli could not fight it anymore; it was too strong, too overwhelming.
Yes, young Dwarf Prince. You are mine.
He shouted and writhed, hands were all around him, holding him tightly…
A voice was whispering in his ear, not the Dark Voice, though he couldn't make out the words. His eyes popped open and he caught a glimpse of his brother's golden hair, blue eyes…until they morphed into gray, twisted features and slimy skin, hateful words issuing from a misshapen mouth.
He tried to get away, really he did, screaming in alarm and fighting the cruel hands holding him; but he was too weak, too tired…
Fíli, nadad, I cannot endure…Ryn, forgive me….
A shudder of pain ran through his body.
Yes, give up. Just let go, son of Dis.
The thought of his mother broke his heart further. He was failing everyone….
Khagan….men gajamu….
Soft words reached his ears, in a language he did not understand; but the pain reached new heights a moment after, when someone pressed something into his wound and it burned fiery hot. His back arched off the table as he screamed again, the fire spreading through his veins, the voice of the Dark screaming too….
No! No, he is mine, you cannot have him!
The words punched through his consciousness again, "Ui el i na dannen ann nin, O' leithon gurth, mellon nin a hun…"
They were lovely words, and his eyes opened to a light beside him. It was the red-haired elf captain, the one he'd told about the fire moon all those nights ago, in an elven dungeon far away…
The Darkness assaulted him again, burning ice in his soul. He is mine!
No.
The fire danced through him as he began to fight again. No, I am not yours.
"Ui el i na dannen ann nin, O' leithon gurth, mellon nin a hun…"
The elf was lit with a glow that was nearly blinding. He latched onto the light and refused to let go, the fire dimming as the ice receded with a final scream from the Darkness. Warmth flooded his body, the pain lessening; still he held onto the light and the soft words Tauriel spoke, and now it seemed he could understand them…
"Eternal star, give strength to the fallen, release from death the friend of my heart…"
He stared at her, unwilling to let go, until the shadows around him became the figures of his friends again—Fíli was at his head, tears rolling down his cheeks as he looked up at the elf-maid; the human children were at his side…
He was so tired.
One last look at the elf, no longer able to see her light, and his eyes drifted closed; finally released from that horrific pain and horror, able to sleep…
Fíli wanted to weep, this time in relief. Kíli had improved markedly in only minutes; his eyes growing warm and brown again, a little more color returning to his cheeks, his breathing evening considerably and his muscles relaxing. When he fell into a deep sleep, the young dwarf prince had to press their foreheads together to hide the display of emotion that he could not stifle.
When he gathered himself, he saw Bofur with Tilda and Bain, Sigrid cleaning up the kitchen, and Ryn talking quietly to Tauriel. He laid his brother's head down gently, then went to Ryn's side.
"I will go ahead and bandage his leg," the elf was saying. "You should leave the athelas on it for about three hours, then clean the wound again. You can use a salve after that; it will begin to act like a normal injury now."
"Can I heal it, then?"
Tauriel shifted. "I don't know, though I wouldn't try it if I were you. I don't know what would happen; no one does."
The girl shivered next to him, and he squeezed her shoulder.
"All right." She threw her arms around the elf captain then, and murmured something in the flowery elvish language that Fíli didn't understand. Tauriel smiled. "You are welcome, mellon nin, I am glad to have been able to help."
Fíli stepped forward and grasped her arm. "Thank you, Lady Elf; neither of us can express our gratitude."
She nodded to him, and bow of respect and affection, then walked to where Kíli lay, handling his leg gently.
Ryn turned to Fíli, relief evident in her eyes. "He's going to be all right."
The dwarf smiled.
"Tauriel."
The young elf turned to him, eyes searching quickly for his kin and friends—the ones he would doubtless want to see as soon as he was lucid.
Which she very much doubted he was right now.
"Lie still," she ordered gently.
"Tauriel…wh-where is she?" Tauriel went to shush him again, but he continued, "Where is Ryn? She was so good to me, and I pushed her so far away…" Her heart hitched at the sadness in his halting words. "She is full of light, the daughter of ancient magic…" his voice broke, and Tauriel's eyes found Deorynn standing nearby, looking stricken. "It was just a dream…"
Tauriel laid a hand on his arm, attempting to soothe him quietly, but his gaze didn't leave hers.
"Do you think she could have loved me?"
Looking at the young woman, Tauriel felt no doubt at all when she answered, "I am sure she loves you still. But you must rest."
He shook his head. "She is not here; it has to have been a dream…"
Tauriel motioned to Ryn. "Come, mellon nin, I fear he will not rest until he knows you are here. Fever dreams are odd things like that."
Deorynn approached, threading her fingers through his hair gently. "Kíli, âzyungel; please sleep, my love. I am right here."
Kíli reached for her, and she gave him her free hand, keeping the other on his fevered cheek. "Ryn…"
"Shhh. Sleep."
He shook his head fitfully. "Ryn, I can't tell what is real…I was so cruel to you…"
She pressed her lips to his gently, a short kiss before whispering, "Hush, my Kíli, it was not your fault. I love you. You will be well. Now is the time to regain your strength. Fíli is here too, and I'll make sure he gets some sleep, but he won't if you don't, the silly dolt; so just rest, roðuljós."
His eyes fluttered closed, and she laid his hand down softly; walking to Fíli's arms and breaking down against his chest. The blond dwarf held her, his own tears falling unchecked into her hair, and Tauriel turned away, feeling as though she was intruding on something intensely personal.
Bofur watched in fascination. So that was the way of it, then? Their dashing youngest prince had caught the eye of Lady Deorynn?
He found he wasn't really surprised. They made a good team, and frankly, it was hardly a wonder they'd fallen for one another. He wouldn't have wanted to be them, though. That relationship was going to meet up with some serious opposition.
All the more reason he smiled to see them together now, before politics and shrewd conniving people got involved.
Also before Thorin found out.
They said goodbye to Tauriel soon after that, her red hair flying as she ran out the door gracefully, apparently hoping to catch up to Legolas. Ryn would have rather she'd stayed, but the elleth was not willing to abandon her dearest friend to the orcs, able as he was, and the girl could hardly fault her for that.
Everyone except Kíli made themselves quite busy cleaning up the wasted room. The holes in the ceiling would have to wait for the next day—Bain said he didn't think it would rain anyhow—but the orc bodies littering the house were pushed over the railing into the lake, the bloodstained rugs gathered to be burned, the tables and chairs set right again. It was well past midnight when they finished, and even then, Ryn couldn't bring herself to sleep, exhausted as she was, without washing at least some of the orc-slime and blood off her body. She walked down to the bathing-area below the house, stripping off her armor, weapons and boots and having a quick wash.
She returned a few minutes later to find everyone asleep already. She smiled fondly at Bard's three children all curled up together in the large bed, Bofur snoring in the corner—she tucked a blanket around him, too, poor lad was going to wake up freezing—and Fíli sleeping in a chair beside Kíli's bed. His hand had snuck out from the blanket and lay atop Kíli's, mouth slightly open, snoring softly. She nearly giggled, only just now realizing how deeply her despair at ever seeing Kíli well again had run.
She looked around for a place of her own to sleep. There were no more beds, and the floor was out of the question. She groaned at the idea of sleeping in a chair, then noticed a space beside Kíli that was definitely big enough for her to be rather comfortable in…
Refusing to think twice, she dropped her boots and crawled into the bed, keeping a respectful distance between her and the prince, but couldn't resist resting her hand on his back to feel his heartbeat, slow and steady now, in sharp contrast to the earlier panicked fluttering. His breaths were deep and healthy, unlike the shallow, biting ones from a few hours ago. He was no longer pale and sweating, but sleeping quietly, and the relief was physical enough to bring tears to her eyes again.
He's alive, he's going to be healthy again soon, he's fine, just breathe, Ryn…
Heaving a shaky sigh, scooting just a little closer, Ryn closed her eyes and was asleep within minutes.
"Khagan….men gajamu…."—Mother….I'm sorry….
A/N: *breathes* Well, there you have it; hopefully that all lived up to expectations! Finally some fluff for our poor, exhausted friends! I have it on good authority there will be more fluff very soon… Couple of quick notes here: 1) since the focus of this story is Ryn and Kíli, and we all know what happens once the rest of the Company reaches Erebor, we're not going to be following both storylines here. There might be snippets of Bilbo or Thorin's POV, but you likely won't hear much from them until later. 2) In the book, the trek from Laketown to Erebor took six days. That was without Bolg and his cronies on their tale, though, so for the purposes of this story, the trip will take three or four days. But Smaug won't be attacking Laketown tonight, so our lovelies can rest peacefully for now.