EREBOR

79 Years Ago

Laughter and dancing filled every corridor, golden light illuminating the mountain city high above and in her very depths, and Kíli didn't care if the ale was to blame for the hazy glow clouding his vision. Fíli guffawed and slammed his tankard on the table, Dwalin's own bellowing laughter exploding as well. The merriment, contagious as it was, swept through the nearby dwarrows like fire whether they'd heard the joke or not.

Thorin Oakenshield lifted his hands and waited for the bedlam to subside, but the ale flowed and spirits soared to the mountain peak and beyond. Shrugging good naturedly, he held his tankard high.

"TO EREBOR!" he roared.

"EREBOR!" cheered his kin.

The king took advantage of the brief lull provided by tankard bottoms raised heavenward.

"To our kingdom, reclaimed and restored these last ten years, and to the Company," he exclaimed, voice carrying over all, "for following this mad bastard into a dragon's maw!"

The citizens of Erebor whistled and hurrahed as the Company's howling laughter answered Thorin's praise.

Kíli staggered away early, the ale already unforgiving. Groaning and pressing palms to temples, he made his excuses in some garbled tongue that could hardly be considered a language and gingerly made his retreat. As he reached the outer hall, dizziness overwhelmed him and he clutched the wall for support.

Ugh.

"That last was five too many," he moaned to himself. The scuff of footsteps alerted his groggy mind, and he looked up in a daze.

"Are you alright, my lad?"

An odd little old man with graying hair and strange clothes leaned over Kíli, his hand gripping the dwarf's as the latter swayed dangerously.

"I'll b'fine," Kíli slurred with a frown, squinting at the stranger. "Def'nitely too much ale."

The man smiled at him. Maybe it was the brew talking, but Kíli could have sworn the look was fond...doting, even. The stranger was giving him the same look he'd seen on his own mother's face countless times. A parent's love.

"Who...you?" Kíli wondered. His vision doubled and tripled.

"No one special," the man replied with a glint in his eye.

"Huh," mumbled Kíli as he passed out.

LONELY MOUNTAIN, USA

Present Day

The rich smell of ground coffee.

Soft music.

Low chatter drifted from a table or two of regular customers.

Course after several decades of unknowingly visiting the same cafe, Kíli supposed 'regular' to be an understatement. Flashing a quick smile of gratitude, he handed over cash and tip for the coffees and beelined for the skittish newcomer. Her gaze followed him through the small shop, eyes slightly unfocused as if seeing nothing and everything at once. He took a deep breath, wishing for the umpteenth time that his brother hadn't lost his memory along with everyone else. Fíli possessed greater tact than Kíli could hope to acquire himself. That said, he hadn't a bloody clue what he was going to say to the girl.

Erica definitely did not snatch the coffee from the guy's hands before inhaling deeply. The brew warmed her through, and he chuckled into his own mug as she downed hers as quickly as possible without burning herself.

"Better?" he wondered.

"Much," she sighed, though her frown stated the opposite. This place gave her the creeps. Everything - absolutely everything - in Lonely Mountain held some connection to J. R. R. Tolkien's books, right down to the beverage names listed on the coffee shop's brightly colored menu board.

"Kíli."

Erica frowned at her recent acquaintance. "What?"

"My name," he said carefully, "is Kíli."

He studied her, gauging her reaction. She chuckled, not a little hysterical.

"Sure it is."

"No, it's true," he insisted with a smile. She arched a brow, skeptical, but he was serious.

"What is with this town?" she muttered.

Any other day, this idea of a place like this would have been Erica's dream vacation. She loved Tolkien's world. The characters and story were incredible, and Middle Earth was a perfect place to lose oneself - in theory. A year-round Tolkien themed town in practice? Not so awesome, especially since Erica was pretty sure it didn't actually exist in the first place. She glanced at her hand, trying to ground herself in reality.

Crap.

The cut still stretched across her palm, stinging as badly as the moment she stumbled while hiking. She'd forgotten about it almost immediately. Understandable, given the fact that she climbed to her feet and found herself in the middle of a town instead of an unpopulated stretch of the Blue Ridge. She sighed, reaching for the first aid kit in her pack.

"Is everyone in this town Tolkien obsessed?" she said absently.

Kíli grinned, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Yes and no."

They lapsed into silence while she bandaged the cut.

Kíli gnawed on his lip. Well, she hadn't freaked out so far. Maybe she would believe the truth?

As she finished securing the bandage, he cleared his throat.

"Will you be staying in town?" he asked.

She hummed indecisively and pulled her phone from her pocket.

"No signal," she muttered. "Of course. This is what I get for hiking in the middle of nowhere. You wouldn't happen to have a phone on you?"

Kíli offered an apologetic smile and shook his head. "Sorry. Not much use for it out here."

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised, given the crappy signal. Alright, then. Any chance I could catch a bus or use a land line to call a taxi?"

Kíli was already shaking his head. "No bus lines, and a taxi would cost a fortune way out here."

Not to mention they wouldn't even be able to find the place, he added to himself.

"And in a town small as this, I'm guessing renting a car is as likely as a blizzard in Florida."

"Less than likely," he affirmed.

"Well, then I'll have to ask your friendly neighborhood policeman for a ride then. Assuming that you actually have one," she commented dryly.

Kíli nodded and pressed his lips together, scooting away from the table. Sooner or later she was going to realize that she couldn't leave. Given her desperation, he had a feeling it would be sooner. Gesturing toward the door, he mustered a helpful smile.

"After you."

"I never did catch your name."

"Erica."

The offhanded reply fell from her lips as she slipped through the door and back outside. A chill snuck inside her collar and down her spine. The sun disappeared behind the antique storefronts and warm yellow lights flickered to life along the street. What the heck?

"Wasn't it just morning?"

Kíli shrugged beside her, expression unreadable.

"Time flies here," he responded with a hint of sarcasm.

Panic threatened to strangle Erica for the thousandth time that day, but she took a deep breath and squashed her feelings as best she could. There wasn't time for a meltdown.

The police station sat tucked a few buildings down, a lonely patrol car parked out front. To call the station small would be an understatement. Erica shook her head in disbelief.

"Let me guess," she commented dryly, "bigger on the inside?"

"Only just," Kíli chuckled edgily, smile strained.

Erica frowned, glancing between him and the brick face of the station.

"Not a fan of the police?" she asked.

"You could say that."

Kíli shifted his weight, and Erica faced him fully. He wasn't just uneasy. He was terrified.

"You okay?" she pressed. "Are you in some kind of-?"

"Be careful," he interrupted. "Nothing here is what it seems. If you need me, I'll be around."

Before Erica managed to be properly confused, Kíli was halfway down the street. She swallowed, throat suddenly dry. The chill returned, this time having nothing to do with the breeze.

"Well," she muttered and gripped the door handle. "You're not wrong."

A/N: An illustration can be found on my tumblr under the same username. Enjoy!