A/N: This chapter mostly introduces new questions rather than solves the old ones, but it also contains a crucial shift in Fili's emotional state, which had to be explored, sometimes more patiently than I would've liked :D Anyway, I hope you enjoy this installment and, as ever, any feedback is more than welcome!
It's been some time before Fili was able to shake off the haze and finally make his way to the shops. Choosing groceries didn't help much, either. He felt like an engine, set in motion by an invisible hand to never be allowed any distraction or rest. His mind kept spinning, almost relentless in its consistency. Shopping with the books tucked under his arm was awkward at best, but he couldn't convince himself to let them out of his sight. It felt dangerous. Wrong.
He'd be relieved if he could call it a simple curiosity. People tended to be curious, then they learned a secret or two and quieted down, until their minds were attracted by something else. Fili wished, quite fervently, that was the case. But he also knew that curiosity wasn't the sole reason. This went deeper. He had a feeling that even if he were to go home now and discover that none of these books were in fact readable, he still wouldn't let this matter go. His rational side was telling him off for the sheer ridiculousness of these thoughts. But his voice… Kili's voice made it all unimportant.
Having acquired two massive bags, and a handful of suspicious looks, Fili left the shop and allowed himself a long, tense sigh. The snowfall was far less intense now. The snow-covered road was a little slippery, but not slippery enough to cause any real trouble. Which was a relief since Fili didn't think himself capable of anything as advanced as watching his every step. His sole goal was to reach his home, lock himself away and throw himself at the books, as quickly as humanly possible. He felt hungry. Famished. Desperate for the barest scrapes of knowledge that would give him at least the most basic understanding of what had just happened. He had no reasonable ground to hope that the books would be somehow connected to Kili's story, but that didn't deter him from hoping.
He nearly slipped and fell as he was reaching for the entrance door, stopped only by the conveniently placed grocery bag. Something released a warning crunch, and Fili belatedly remembered that eggs required a far more careful handling if one wanted to avoid making a preliminary omelet.
He struggled a little with the key, but eventually it turned smoothly enough. The warmth inside was almost suffocating. Fili opened the window and settled the mistreated bags on the table. Well, at least he hadn't lost any food on his way. Hopefully.
Fixing a cup of tea without the electric kettle wasn't nearly as romantic as one would think, but he still managed to produce more or less decent beverage. Dumplings also appeared rather edible. Having taken the edge off hunger and having secured a relatively clear head, he filled his cup one more time and took away the books. Although he made absolutely sure no one saw them, a strange feeling of jealousy refused to subdue, filling his mind with the bizarre images of keeping the books for himself and maybe even starting his own library. Fili rubbed his temples.
Start a damn library? Was he even serious? Only a few hours ago he was determined to get some real work done and finish his long-suffering book and now he was getting side-tracked by the thoughts about libraries… and attractive voices. And he hadn't even met any of the others. Would they give him the idea of going into space? At this rate, it seemed very much probable.
Feeling sufficiently amused and somewhat calmer for it, Fili opened one of the books, and the image made him freeze on spot. He was very sure that he picked this one himself, and he knew the exact reason why it attracted him in the first place, and yet, it just wasn't the same book. He thumbed through it impatiently, trying to see some familiar places, but it changed nothing. It was an entirely different book.
He was certain of the answer before he could even ask the question, but he still checked the remaining two books. They were all identical. The size and the shape remained intact, but it was the only thing that did. Everything beyond the cover had changed completely, and now he was left with three copies of… something? He had never seen this book before, and at the moment, he had no desire whatsoever to explore it. Instead, he closed it and let it fall on the table with a dull thud.
It seemed that his adventure was short-lived. He didn't know how that trick was done, or if it was even possible, but he didn't care. It was the time for him to focus on his real job.
He managed to unpack and turn on his laptop without sparing a single glance for the books. He refused to acknowledge the fact that his movements were much more jerky and impatient than usual and it would be a big miracle if he was capable of writing anything in such a state. Still, it was no matter. He would try anyway.
Rationally, Fili knew that anger was counterproductive and frankly stupid. It wasn't like he was promised anything. He didn't pay for these books, so the only thing wasted was his time. And his trust. Which he shouldn't have given in the first place. He would know better now. And he would be more than glad to close that deal by going over there and talking. He had plenty to say, and he would make sure to do as little listening as possible.
The books caught his attention once again, as if eager to tease and taunt, and he shoved them into the bag. He would just let them sit there and he would definitely take his sweet time before going back to the shop again. After all, reading three books required plenty of time.
Brushing away the sudden feeling of sadness, Fili opened the document and started re-reading the fruits of his labor. It was a tedious task, but he supposed it was a small enough prize to pay for keeping his writing coherent.
Kili was sitting and drinking his tea. It wasn't an unusual thing for him to be doing, but his thoughts were far from usual. It would soon be the time for him to go home. Suffocating, lonely home. The mere image of it was filling him with dread. His hands were shaking a little, and his legs weren't all that steady. It wasn't even the thought itself that scared him, but rather the fact of its existence. He couldn't remember having such thoughts before. 'Before' had been measured and steady. He wasn't sure he liked it. He wasn't sure he had any feelings at all. He used to have them, at some point, but not anymore. He had no conscious awareness of the shift, he only knew that evoking them was in no way pleasant and, therefore, best avoided.
He sniffed once again and rubbed his eyes, feeling the remains of wetness on his cheeks. He didn't even know why he was upset. He couldn't name the feeling. But it still didn't let him go, however hard he tried.
Was it fear? If so, what was it that he feared?
One look out of the window, on an empty, snow-covered ground, gave him his answer. Alone. He was afraid of being alone.
Fili has been typing away for more than two hours, but his thoughts were still stubbornly clinging to a far less relevant thing than the occasionally blinking screen. He snatched his fingers away from the keyboard, giving it one last brush, and fought the urge to squeeze his head until it stopped hurting. He knew that would mostly be a fruitless effort, much like his automatic, on-the-go writing. It still would have been better than nothing. That is, if he knew where it was that he was going. The words on the screen showed no indication of giving him anything resembling an answer.
Fili rubbed his temples. Was it a futile effort coming here? Would it be better if he… A gush of suddenly biting air from the window was effective in cutting off the thought but Fili knew from the experience that it would return to haunt him, and it'd be much more nagging than before. Much more vicious.
He knew what bothered him. Of course, he did, but it did nothing to amend the situation. Kili had lied to him, and he was now sitting here in an aimless attempt to seem productive, whereas only productivity he was capable of was maintaining a tireless, spinning circle of never ending 'why's'. Why did Kili seem so genuine before? Why was it so ridiculously effortless? And more importantly, why did he believe in that effortlessness in the first place. The last question would've been a very rational, proper thing to ask oneself. The only problem was that Fili didn't. Couldn't bring himself to.
Because he was wrong? Was that the answer? But if that was the case, it meant that none of his earlier feelings were relevant, or true. His mind was calmly, and quite patiently, telling him that no other option could be logical, and yet accepting that felt like the worst kind of wrong. And Fili couldn't bear to be wrong anymore.
The crunchy sound of snow under his feet reminded him of his earlier near-disaster with the eggs, almost succeeding in lightening his mood.
The stop was still in place, and, judging by the light in the window, so was its owner. Fili covered the distance to the door and grasped the handle, suddenly aware of the irritatingly mellow feeling in his chest. He couldn't afford that now. He had a sound purpose, which involved freeing his mind of any further distractions, and since he was practically useless in his attempts to store the entire incident to the periphery of his mind and label it a 'bizarre story to remember on a rainy day', a direct approach would have to do the job.
The door gave a quiet squeak, echoing that uncertain, almost vulnerable sound from earlier today, but didn't give in. Fili tried one more time. To no avail. It was clearly locked, and mostly likely from the inside. Fili stepped back and looked the shop over in one last attempt to make the sense of the situation. It seemed to look the same. It had the same sign and the same door, there was no doubt about that, and yet, its whole stance seemed to change (if a shop could even have a stance, that is). It still looked crooked, but no longer haunted. And if he allowed himself to completely descend into the realm of insanity, he could even call it 'hopeful'.
He didn't think he could rely on his memory, not with something so bizarre, but he was quite certain that the more compliant door from earlier didn't have anything resembling a letterbox. This one, however, most certainly did. No longer able to fight a peculiar mix of agitation and curiosity, Fili tugged at the lid, half-expecting it to behave like the door did. Instead, it opened easily enough, and Fili's fingers pressed against a a piece of paper. A letter? He almost laughed at the thought. On closer inspection, it was indeed a letter in a sloppy, almost a child-like envelope that made Fili grin. There was no seal, but a surprisingly unambiguous 'For Fili' was written neatly enough. At this point, it would come as no surprise to run into a letter intended for anyone rather than him.
He was fully content in telling himself that a slight trembling in his fingers was due to the cold, but a relentless race in his chest was telling a different tale.
"For Fili", the letter insisted again, forcing Fili to release an undignified sound. He closed his eyes for a moment, in a futile attempt to turn them into more reliable witnesses, and then opened them again, realizing abruptly that he might have been a bit rash in referring to this writing as 'neat'. If anything, any neatness seemed to disappear completely closer to the end, revealing a clearly impatient hand.
Are you upset with me? I suppose you are, so I was wondering if it would be too bold of me to ask for forgiveness. If the answer is yes, our deal is off. If the answer is no, come and visit me at this exact place. There is much you don't yet know, and even more that you want to learn.
Your friend, Kili.
Fili looked through the text again and snorted. 'Friend', unlike other words, was written with almost excessive care. Two last sentences were clearly manipulative. Intended to kindle his curiosity and lure him in. All the same, he couldn't fight his genuine surprise at Kili's unexpected willingness to call their deal off. He took the books in exchange for his return, and a talk. So could he simply return the books unread? Would that be an automatic deal-breaker? And more importantly, would he be able to do that?
The bag with the books was weighing unexpectedly heavily on his shoulders, and the increasing wind didn't make it any cozier. His body was telling him to leave, and yet something inside him disagreed with a ferociousness that rivaled his increasing worry of freezing to death. He couldn't leave and still expect to sleep at night.
Struck by a sudden inspiration, Fili opened the lid once again and felt almost no surprise at finding a pen inside. Pressing the letter to the door surface and putting down an almost calligraphic 'The answer is no', he felt no regret. When a barely audible rustling signified receiving of the response, he felt none, either.
The trembling in Fili's hands never stopped, but now it had an almost pleasant ring to it.
The shop didn't take long to transform. All in all, it was a matter of no more than a couple of seconds. The colors dimmed further, the sign disappeared, leaving a big-sized lamp in its wake, and Fili was now faced with a ridiculously small door, just high enough for him to come in and, hopefully, come out afterwards. It resembled one of these fairytale houses he laughed at as a child. Thankfully, it wasn't made of sweets, but it still was a definition of an out-of-this-world object if he had ever seen one.
The door opened, revealing no one.
"Is it my no or your no?" the voice asked cautiously.
"Your no. Your letters are just as confusing as you are. I bet you couldn't even understand the answer because you forgot your own question."
Fili didn't know how he could do that. Fume inside, feel real, genuine anger and then switch so quickly to a laughably effortless teasing, as if they were just two friends chatting.
"So you do forgive me?" There was a layered urgency to that question, and Fili could only hope that his decision didn't turn out to be a bad one.
"Not yet. But sparing me this hell of a weather would be a nice step in that direction."