"Wait."

Tauriel placed her hand upon Legolas's arm. The two of them stopped at the entrance of their kingdom and turned to face each other. Their band of kin stepped swiftly around them, the Dwarves following behind them in an unkempt line. Tauriel turned and set her eyes pointedly upon the she-Dwarve. The poor thing was panting with the effort of keeping up, her small body wracked with quivers and the edges of her face tinged grey with the exertion.

"That one is in need of aid," she said. Legolas looked the she-Dwarve up and down with open dislike.

"Aren't they all?"

"You know what I mean. Or do you not see it?"

Legolas took a better look at her. The she-Dwarve looked up at him with a heavy head and bared her back teeth at him through tangles of muddied hair. Such an ungainly creature, he thought to himself. But he did see it. There was an aura about her that the others of her kind did not have. This inspired no pity in his heart.

"So?" He said venomously, turning back to Tauriel. Her bright eyes caught the sunlight and flashed mischievously, for a moment taking his breath away.

"She walks with a limp. I can smell the infection growing on her. There's more at stake than meets the eye if she were to perish."

"I care not whether she lives or perishes."

"Children should not be made to suffer the sins of their fathers. Nor their grudges."

It was a bold statement, considering the state of affairs between the Dwarves and the Elves. And yet he had always respected Tauriel for her boldness. If she wanted to see the she-Dwarve tended to, then what reason did he have to stop her?

"We shall see what my father says," he said, mildly. He ordered two Elves to take the Dwarve away. They grabbed her by the arms and she immediately put up a fight, kicking and thrashing with all of her might. Such a tiny thing, but vicious as a dog! He watched as they ushered her ahead of them and promptly disappeared around a corner. Her kin turned upon him and demanded to know where she was being taken.

"Believe me, Dwarfs," he said as her howling faded before them. "It is for her own good."

X

So the Dwarven king had decided against accepting his offer. This came as no surprise. He had seen the anger and vehemence written upon Thorin's brow. It was an ancient rage that curdled around his heart, one that he could not hide once faced with the Elven king. He had hoped that speaking upon their mutual loss would strike a chord of familiarity within Thorin. But, it would seem, the rivers that bore his grudge ran deeper than he knew. They rendered Thorin immovable, like the mountains of stone that made up the cavernous walls of the halls of Erebor.

Such was the disposition of Dwarves.

Let their spite flow and then dry like riverbeds beneath sweltering heat, Thranduil thought to himself as he descended the steps within his kingdom, let it pass like thunderclouds chased by the light of clarity. Let them sit within the prisons of his homeland. One hundred years, two hundred - it was no matter. He was patient. He would wait. One day they would relent and accept his offer. Then the stones of pure starlight buried beneath the dragon would be returned to their rightful home, carried upon their backs.

As stones are crushed to sand beneath larger boulders, humility is borne of a gentle, prolonged pressure.

All that was left, then, was the matter of the female Dwarve. He stopped before a doorway cut from glittering stone. The sentries on either side stepped away with a swift snap of the heels and he entered. Tauriel had voiced her suspicions upon arriving back in their realm and he had listened with interest. Any other man would have ignored such suggestions - especially after Thorin had proclaimed his desire to see him scorched by dragon fire - but Thranduil was a considerate king. Or, rather, he was willing to be until his curiosity about the she-Dwarve was satisfied.

The Dwarve in question stood shackled against a wall, a strip of cloth wound tight around her cheeks. Two guards stood before her. They bowed their heads and moved away respectfully as he passed. He had expected the Dwarve to lash out and attempt to escape her bounds when she saw him. But instead, her eyes widened in fright and she began to quiver violently. She was...a curious thing, he thought to himself as he held her eyes. Her lashes fluttered and her jaw churned but she could not bring herself to look away from him. She was different from her fellow Dwarves by look and demeanor. Perhaps Thorin's blood did not flow through her, or why else did she seem to be struck by cowardice?

But where had he seen her before?

Ah yes. He remembered. This was Nadi: daughter of Sadi, the sister of the late Khadi. Thranduil had gone to Erebor to pay his respects when Khadi died. Nadi had been young then, and she was still quite young now. The years hadn't yet begun to harden her face like they so swiftly did to the men of her race.

She recoiled as he drew nearer. Nonetheless, he ran his finger along her cheek and then grasped her chin in his palm. He moved her head side to side as he observed the coloring of her forehead and the soft, dewy glow beneath the feathery hairs on her cheeks. Yes, there was something there. Tauriel had been correct. But there was another thing that caught his eye, something that did not sit well with him.

"There is something growing inside of you," he said, more to himself than her. He let his finger roam along the valley of her collar, down between her breasts, and then along the ridge of her belly. Darkness and light recoiled from each other within her: a shadow cast itself upon a rising sun. A dangerous dichotomy that unsettled him. And yet she knew not of it, he could see it in her eyes.

"Take her to the others," he commanded in his tongue. Silently, the guards moved upon her and unshackled her wrists. They waited for him to exit before they dragged her away to the cells. He walked pensively through the halls, meditating upon images of a shadowy figure wafting through armies of the undead.

She would not be freed. Even if the Dwarves changed their minds and took up his offer, he would keep her there, in the cells, until everything within her rotted away to dust.

He was, after all, a considerate king.

X

The guards led her down a winding staircase. This time, there was no need to restrain her. She shuffled alongside them, her eyes sweeping the ground beneath her feet. Having heard their footsteps, the Dwarves roused themselves from within their cells and called out to her. But she passed by them mute and avoided their eyes. It was only when they approached Kili's cell did she lift her head and startle forward. She wanted to throw herself at the cold iron bars, reach in and feel his hands in hers once again. It was his presence that she desired more than anything. The words of the Elven king had caused a fresh fear to bloom in her heart, one that only he could understand and talk her through.

"Kili-" she said. He looked up from the small medallion in his hand and cast her a look full of mistrust. I've done you so wrong, she wanted to say, but look! See what is on the verge of happening! Now, more than ever, we must stand together! But the look that he gave her chilled her veins. Hatred lingered about his face and narrowed his dark eyes. Eyes that were once so beautiful when they gazed at her in admiration were now sullied with the pain of her past rejection.

The guards grabbed her arms and pushed her bodily into her cell. She landed on her stomach and quickly scrambled backward as they shut the gate. The Dwarves continued to call out to her but still, she did not answer. When she was sure that the guards were far enough away, she backed herself into a corner and lifted the edge of her shirt. Everything looked the same and so she ran her hand along her stomach, searching for signs of distention or movement. Anything to lend weight to what the Elven King had said.

There is something growing inside of you.

What was that that she detected, a spot of warmth beneath or fingers? A soft tickling, like someone had taken a feather and was brushing the tip against her insides? No - it couldn't be. She would have known - she should have known. She had always been in tune with the world around her. But perhaps she should have learned to be in tune with herself.

She lay upon her back. Her throat gave an involuntary sob and she quickly covered her mouth. She heard soft footsteps pass by her cell and then stop in front of Kili's.

"The stone in your hand. What is it?"

It was the she-Elf, the one with fiery hair and beautiful eyes.

"It is a talisman," she heard Kili say, "A powerful spell lies upon it. If any but a Dwarve reads the runes on this stone…they will forever be cursed!"

Tears sprung from the corner of Nadi's eyes as she listened to her beloved speak to the Elf. She realized that something magnanimous was happening, something that she had no control over. A distance was spanning between her and Kili. She felt herself tottering on the edge of it, helpless, as she listened to the sound of it growing.

"...a rune stone," he was saying. "My mother gave it to me so that I'd remember to come back to her. She worries, thinks I'm reckless."

"Are you?" The Elf asked.

"Nah."

There was a soft tinkle as the rune went bouncing between the iron bars. There was a silence during which Nadi imagined the Elf retrieving the medallion and handing it back to Kili. She imagined the meeting of their hands: one slender, one strong, the palms gracing and then sliding away.

"Sounds like quite a party they're having up there," he said after a moment that filled her with trepidation.

"It is Mereth Nuin Gilliath: The Feast of Starlight," the Elf responded. "All light is sacred to the Eldar. But the Wood Elves love best the light of the stars."

"I always thought it was a cold light….remote and far away."

Nadi squeezed her eyes shut, breathed deeply into her hands as her throat began to constrict and her eyes smarted against a new wave of tears. Her chest jumped as she sobbed silently. Kili had always called her starlight. And now she understood why.

She rolled over onto her side, but she could not block out the sound of his voice as he told the she-Elf stories, stories that he had never told Nadi. There would be no sleep for her that night. Her hand rested upon her belly, protecting it, as she trembled beneath her tears. Every word exchanged between Kili and the beautiful Elf drove a dagger through her heart.

X

Ending Notes: Poor Nadi...shout out to all the hopeless romantics who know what it's like to fall in love with someone who has fallen in love with someone else. :,(