Thank you to all that reviewed, I promise I'm going to start responding individually because I really appreciate it. For now, happy reading! Sorry, in a rush.
***IMPORTANT*** I made a mistake. Fíli and Kíli are from the North, not the South. And they are all travelling South now, not North. I'm dumb. I'll fix it in the previous chapter asap. Forgive me!
8
Secrets
"Master Fíli, you haven't said a word all day."
There's nothing to say.
The blonde prince kept his eyes trained in front of him, refusing to physically acknowledge Era's lame attempt to break the ice. After they found the clearing, they found the merchants' path again and have been on it for a day and a half. The sun was bright overhead, but the beginnings of autumn sent a cool breeze over the mountains. Era said something else to him, but Fíli kept ignoring her.
Leave me alone.
Just then a black fly landed on his neck. So he, as any self-respecting dwarf looking to keep his blood in his veins, slapped it instantly. Hard.
"Did that hurt?"
"…No."
Era laughed. "You winced."
Fíli sighed and allowed himself to look at her. "What do you want, Era?"
"Fíli." Thorin, whose pony was a few paces behind them, gave his nephew a stern shake of the head.
Great, now I'm getting reprimanded like a child.
"Sorry, Lady Era," Fíli adjusted, doing his best not to look put out, "Is there something you would like to discuss?"
Millí's aunt looked thoughtful a moment and then shrugged. "Mostly just trying to be nice. Ever since you found Kíli's necklace you've been silent as a stone. I'm just making sure the stone still bleeds."
"I'm worried about him," Fíli said curtly, "All of them."
Era smiled sadly at him. She looked very much like Millí herself, but forty years or so older. Her hair was her family's trademark shade of gold with an immaculate beard that was put in braided twists and clasped back into her hair. Millí's family was known for their intricate taste in facial hair and put many men to shame in their days. Upon examination Fíli decided he found it to be admirable rather than attractive. All that facial hair looked like it would get in the way of kissing, after all.
"We all are, Fíli. But Kíli is strong, you know he is. I'm sure he's handling himself just fine, just like you said to Guinn before."
"Except they aren't sitting around drinking and laughing," Fíli argued bitterly, "You heard what Ori said. They beat them, they starved them and put them on a stage like cattle. Not even to mention that Kíli's not strong, not anymore. In those conditions the fever is likely to work its way through him much faster than it normally would."
"Fíli…Your br—"
"My brother was a reckless fool," Fíli cut across, "Running around in the night by himself in a place he's never been. He's had a death-wish ever since he could walk, mark my words."
"Well, Millí's strong. She'll protect him."
Fíli tried not to snort at that. "Lady Era, be realistic," he sighed, "Millí is an extraordinary dwarf, but she's a captive as well. I'm sure they have her chained to a wagon or a mule or something to keep her from interfering. And even if they don't, I'm sure they have their ways o—"
"Enough, Fíli," Era snapped, "That's enough. I don't want to hear anymore."
Guilt weighed heavily on Fíli as he saw the tears welling up in his companion's eyes. Ori had told them that Millí was in some sort of trouble, how could he have been so insensitive? "Era, I'm sorry. I'm…tense."
Era wiped at her eyes and laughed, "I wouldn't have guessed."
Fíli's fingers reached into his pack and found the vile with the Mallos safely tucked inside. He made sure he checked it every few hours, just in case something unexpected happened. But it was always in his pack where he left it. Comforting to feel it, all the same. It was so small and so easily lost, and yet so imperative.
"We're not moving fast enough," he whispered in frustration. "We should have caught up to them by now."
They had been galloping since morning, following the clear path of the merchants after Ori had led them to the clearing.
I'd be faster on my own.
"Don't even think about it, Fíli," she warned him. "I know exactly what's going on in that head of yours and don't you dare. You could never take all those men by yourself."
Fíli chewed his lip and closed his pack, allowing it to drape over the pony's back. "I wouldn't have to attack them, I could just sneak them out."
"Oh, so you could," Era didn't sound like she actually believed him. "So in your rage, you would somehow manage to free all of our remaining captive companions quietly and without any harm befalling those that put them in chains. Interesting…But in order to do that, you would have to be cold and heartless because you would have to leave behind the slew of other captives that are no doubt locked away in those wagons. But cold and heartless is something that you're not, so we would have to assume that you would find a way to free everyone. But it would be impossible to free everyone without anyone noticing, which would result in a fight. A fight that you couldn't win, because you're a singular dwarf and they are an entire community of nomads."
Fíli opened his mouth to argue but thought better of it and closed it for good. He didn't have to say the words that were on his mind.
I don't have to free anyone but Kíli. He's the one that's dying; I need to get him out so I can give him the Mallos. After that we can wait for everyone else to catch up and attack the camp to free the rest.
He felt Thorin's eyes on the back of his neck and shivered. He didn't like the idea, especially because his friends might see it as a betrayal. Thorin sensed what he was planning anyway, he could tell. But for now, he would stay put.
I'm sure Kíli's doing fine anyway, he assured himself, He's strong. Agile. Intelligent. And most importantly, he's a Durin.
"Well, at least you made it into the bucket that time," Bofur remarked cheerfully. With hands chained behind his back, Kíli's body was hunched over a tin pail that Daren allowed him to have after the first…incident.
"Thank you Bofur," Kíli panted, "Very c—"
The inhabitants of the wagon all grimaced and tried not to watch as the young dwarf dry heaved repeatedly. It was hard enough not to listen to without watching, not to mention the nausea one feels when someone encores his stomach contents not a few feet away. Kíli would feel bad if he wasn't so busy feeling like he wanted to have his stomach removed entirely.
In the wagon with Bofur and Kíli were Gimli and Petry, as well as two women and three men anywhere from late teens to mid-forties. One had a bandage wrapped around his head to cover an orc-delivered wound and seemed to find the most discomfort with Kíli's illness.
When his body relaxed, Kíli let his back fall against the wagon and sighed. "I just need some fresh air."
"You're not the only one," someone muttered. Whoever they were, the person next to them elbowed their side.
"I'm sorry," Kíli mumbled in return. The wagon went over a particularly large bump, rattling the dwarf's now empty stomach and his aching head. He shut his eyes tightly and tensed against the chains until the waves of pain stopped pulsing through his head. It was one of the mightiest headaches he'd ever had, with exception to the time he fell out of a tree and got a concussion. He could feel it in his neck and behind his eyes as well. Honestly, if someone had asked he probably would say his hair was feeling it too.
What am I going to do?
He wanted to escape, but all his gusto had been silenced when they'd been forced into the wagons and chained to the walls again. It didn't leave them with a lot of options other than chewing each other's arms off. Which was, of course, out of the question.
Almost.
"Bathroom break; everybody up."
Tobi climbed into the wagon and began unchaining them from the wall. Their feet were connected with a chain just long enough for them to walk, but not run. As soon as they were released from the wall, they were shoved to the end of the wagon where another merchant was waiting to lower them to the ground. Gimli, however, was unhappy about being manhandled.
"I'll jump."
"You can't jump, you'll fall on yer face."
"I can make it."
"There's a step tha' you can't reach. You'll trip."
"I don't care. Nobody carries a dwarf."
The man gave an exasperated sigh and stepped back to give Gimli room to jump. Unfortunately for the young dwarf, the chain on his feet was indeed too short and the step below the wagon edge too far. Kíli winced and attempted not to laugh as Gimli hit the ground face first with a heavy thump.
"I told you."
Gimli spit out the clump of dirt that had found its way into his mouth and glared indignantly up at the merchant. "You could have unchained m'feet."
The man shook his head and prodded the ginger dwarf with his foot. "Not after the stunt you all pulled at the orc attack. Now get up and get in the line."
Tobi went down the side of the wagon opposite of Bofur and Kíli first, taking his sweet time at releasing each one of them. He made quick work of Bofur's chains and sent the dwarf on his way, but when he finally made it to Kíli, he was less than gentle with the shackles. The young dwarf hissed as the metal bit into his already chaffed wrists until he was free. Tobi scowled at him for a moment, and then down at his bucket.
"You sick or something?"
"That sounded more like an accusation than a question. But as luck would have it, yes. I'm sick."
"With what?"
Kíli sighed and glared at the chubby blonde tradesman. "I imagine it's the flu. I'm not used to being a captive, you see, and the conditions are less than conducive of a typical healthy environment."
Aliza's words were screaming at him now.
If they find out, they will kill you.
Tobi eyed him for another moment before taking his arm roughly and dragging him to his feet. "Get yer bucket, you dense twit. I'm not cleaning it for you." Tobi turned to the man at the end of the wagon. "Cameron, this one's sick. Take him to see Heather."
Kíli's stomach dropped as he was thrust out of the wagon and into Cameron's arms.
If Thorin could see me now.
"Get in the line with the others, I'll take care of you later."
Kíli shuffled over to Gimli and Bofur, who were looking around at the other captives with discomfort.
"I feel like I'm a kiddie in school," Bofur chuckled. They were all waiting to be escorted to the thick of the trees in pairs with an archer on either side of them just in case they tried to run. Needless to say, security had increased since the orc attack.
Kíli examined the surrounding landscape, when a not-so-distant valley caught his eye.
"Hey, look," he whispered, nodding his head towards the valley. Bofur turned and then blinked to test his vision.
"Well bless my beard..."
"Do any of you see Millí?" Gimli fretted. Kíli and Bofur stopped looking at the village at those words, allowing cold fear to grip their hearts. They hadn't spotted their friend since she was taken from them, and dark thoughts were beginning to creep up in their minds. They were all worried about her.
"Ahem."
The three dwarves' eyes scanned the crowd in search for the voice, when it came again with more gusto.
"Ahem."
Kíli's eyes landed on a girl standing right in front of them with beautiful curly blonde hair and lake blue eyes. She was in a teal merchant's dress that looked tattered but still vibrant. The dress tied behind her neck revealing her arms and—well, her arms were pretty distracting. They were folded across her chest, revealing the chiseled muscles in her biceps and forearms. Too chiseled. Down right intimidating.
"If one of you idiots doesn't recognize me in the next two seconds I'm going to smash all of your heads with a rock."
"Millí…" Gimli whispered, the shock of it setting in. As soon as they made the connection, relief could set in. "Millí, it's you!"
Gimli pulled her into a huge hug before she got a chance to protest. "We were thinkin' you might have been killed," he rejoiced, "No one had seen you."
"G'off!"
When he'd finally released her, he took a step back to really get a good look at Millí's drastically altered face. Her beard had been completely shaved away and her discomfort was plain to see.
"I'm glad you're okay," Kíli offered, allowing her to break away from Gimli to touch foreheads with him.
"They treated you alright then, lassie?" Bofur inquired with a sympathetic smile.
Millí ducked her head for a second and sighed, before turning her eyes back to them. "Listen, they shaved my beard and then handed me over to a bunch of women to make me look…pretty, I suppose. And it was embarrassing and ridiculous but I wasn't hurt and it's not a big deal. So if we could just move on I'd appreciate it."
Kíli chuckled and gave her shoulder a slap. "Well, now we're twins!"
"That's different," she scolded, "You shave because you're an archer." Her stern glare broke and she gave him a small, grateful smile. "But thanks."
Kíli gave her a nod and tried not to wince as his head pounded. He felt badly that her beard and clothes were gone, and embarrassed about the whole awkward situation with differing beauty standards. But she was still Millí, tough and strong and hysterically out of place in a dress made for rich nomadic merchants instead of stocky warrior dwarves.
Millí was talking to Gimli when she looked at what Kíli was holding and wrinkled her nose at him. "Why are you…what are you carrying, Kíli?"
The dwarf prince looked down at his hand and blushed. "I um…it's my sick bucket."
"Your sick bucket."
"Yeah."
Millí' tightened her expression and let her eyes travel up to Kíli's chest. "And you're not wearing a shirt. Why's that?"
Bofur and the brunette dwarf exchanged a look briefly before Kíli shrugged and turned around, revealing the seventeen scabbing whip marks that layered his back. Twenty-one actually, if including the five previous marks from the first day. Millí made a sound in her throat and gently touched one, sucking in a breath through her teeth. "Kíli…how did this happen?"
"I um…" once again he looked to Bofur, and then Gimli. The ginger dwarf's expression turned dark and he mouthed to Kíli, "Lie."
"I…couldn't stop running my mouth. Daren got frustrated."
"Really frustrated, I'd say." Millí looked at him doubtfully as he turned back around, but she didn't press the issue. "One more question," she said finally. "Where's my cousin? After those bastards broke his finger I knew he'd be upset and then the orcs attacked and…just tell me where he is. If the news is bad just say it quickly."
"Not bad," Bofur answered with a grin, "It's good! He escaped."
"Escaped?" she looked shocked. "Are you serious?"
"It's true," Gimli added, "Kíli here helped him get away at the last second."
Once again the blonde dwarf found herself owing the prince some gratitude. "Thank you, Kíli. I…I hope he'll be alright on his own."
"He'll find whoever's looking for us, I imagine," Bofur said. Millí snorted at that.
"No one's coming to find us."
Kíli raised his eyebrows at his friend. "How could you say that? Of course they're trying to find us, we're family."
His friend looked at him sadly. "I'm just not going to put all my eggs in that basket," she sighed, "We've been prisoners here for over a week. If they were going to find us, they would've done it by now. They're either lost, dead, or don't even know what happened to us. We can't depend on them for rescue anymore."
The boy dwarves all looked at each other in surprise, though they couldn't deny the ring of truth to Millí's words. Though Kíli had expressed his own doubts about whether or not his family was looking for them, he couldn't accept the idea that Fíli would just let him go. Or that something bad happened to him. He just couldn't.
"Y'see that?" Bofur said, pointing at the small valley settlement. "That's Celylas, one of the southernmost villages of Ered Luin. Do y'know what that means?" No one answered, but they didn't like Bofur's tone. "That means they must have crossed over the Lune Bridge just yesterday, while they had us locked up in the wagon. We're near the region of Harlindon now."
"We…we've really gone that far?"
Bofur grimaced and nodded. "I s'pose so. The Greyflood is two weeks away now by my estimates."
The group passed into thoughtful silence after that. When all the captives had gone about and done their awkward business in the woods, they started rounding them back into their wagons. Kíli had successfully washed out his bucket, drank some water, and promptly threw it back up for the duration of his break. When the friends realized that it didn't matter to the merchants who was in what wagon, Gimli latched on to Millí's arm and didn't let go until they were both in a wagon together.
"Not you." Someone reached out and grabbed Kíli's hair, effectively halting him from entering the wagon with his friends. "Come with me."
Cameron turned Kíli around and latched a collar around his neck before he could protest. "What…no!"
"A precaution," the young man shrugged. He took up the chain that was clipped to the front of the metal collar and tugged it. "C'mon little dog. Let's go to see the butcher."
Butcher?
Kíli tried his best to maintain his dignity while being walked through the camp like a domesticated dog. He clenched his jaw and raised his chin, casting his eyes over the tops of everyone's heads, even if he was too short to see over them. That's what Thorin would have done, after all.
Thorin would not have allowed them to put a collar on at all.
They stopped outside of a brilliantly green wagon and Kíli's heart began to race.
They will not help you if they find out. They will kill you.
"Heather, got one for ya."
Kíli gulped and prayed to Aulë that his fingers were dirty enough to hide the shadows in his nails.
A woman with lines her face, flowers braided into ashy hair, and a long scar on her cheek stuck her head out of the purple drapery. "Is that so?"
"Tobi told me to bring him to you. Says he's sick."
Heather's pale eyes turned Kíli, making him squirm under her scrutiny. "And he's important, is he?"
Cameron shrugged indifferently and Kíli's pride sweltered.
"I am from the line of Durin," he told them indignantly, "The nephew of none other than Thorin Oakenshield himse—"
"Nobody cares, laddie."
Kíli snapped his mouth shut and tried not to blush. He had never let his pride in his heritage get the better of him like that before.
"Very well then, bring him in," Heather sighed with the wave of her hand. Turning around, she added, "Wouldn't want to kill the nephew of the great Borin Oakensocks…"
Night settled into the land and the party was once again forced to stop. Fíli clenched his jaw and tried not to vent his frustrations. Instead he plopped down by the fire with Bifur, Dwalin, Thorin, and Guinn and began to roast some meat over the fire on a stick.
"You know what I don't understand?" Bifur asked while staring thoughtfully at his dinner, "How on earth those slippery urchins managed to hide a bunch of captives from us when we were travelling with them from the south."
"I've been wondering that myself," Thorin agreed. "Fíli, do you remember hearing anything suspicious when you were with them?"
The blond didn't have to think about it, for he had been thinking about it over and over again.
"No, nothing at all. Of course, we didn't go inside of the wagons. That was the number one rule they set in place at the beginning; we could not touch their wares. They must have kept them silent somehow."
"We could ask Ori," Guinn suggested.
"Ori," Nori cut in, "Has gone to bed and no one is to wake him. It can wait til morning."
Fíli eyes the dark heap on the ground that was Ori's sleeping form. Indeed it could, the poor boy. He'd been bombarded with questions, most of which he couldn't answer. "They kept me in the wagon for the most part," he would always say. It was infuriating.
"Fíli, we need more firewood," Thorin noted, as if the fact had somehow surprised him. Fíli knew that that was his way of telling him what to do, so without a word he handed his stick off to Bifur and headed towards the forest.
Much creepier when you're alone, I must admit.
Unfortunately the forest was not as thick as he hoped, for they were half way up a very high slop and the further they climbed on mountainside, the less trees they had for cover and firewood.
Fíli pulled a knife from his bracer and began to mark the trees that were around him so that he wouldn't get lost. He needed to find a thin tree or a felled log, because his axe was to be saved for battle. Not chopping down trees.
He finally found a downed trunk that matched his need and began to hack away at the wood. He was so caught up in his task that he nearly missed the sounds echoing from the distant path.
Wait a second.
He froze his swing midair in time to catch the sound of someone laughing. There was the faint clop of horses and the creaking of wagons.
Merchants!
Fíli's heart was in his throat as he abandoned his task and took off towards the sound. A small voice inside his head told him he should go get Thorin, but he was too afraid of losing track of the noise that he decided he would go alone.
They aren't getting away this time.
It was difficult to find the true source because of the way the mountain echoed, but in a few short minutes Fíli spotted them moving along the main mountain path. It was a small caravan consisting of three covered wagons and a cart full of food and cloth. A few men and women were walking alongside the mules and horses, chattering quietly and happily to one another with pale lamps clutched in their fists.
Odd, he thought, I figured there'd be more.
He remembered what Era had said about him not being able to control his anger enough to rescue his brother without attacking the people who took him captive. He was suddenly very tempted to prove her right.
Just get your friends and get out.
Quietly as he could, Fíli crept out towards the nomads and out of the safety of the trees. He waited until no people could be seen and then immersed himself with the group.
Never before has he felt so out of place. In fact, he felt so exposed he might as well be glowing like a flame and strumming the mandolin. But luckily, no one seemed to notice their new companion. Fíli tried his best to look casual and avoid being seen while inching his way towards the back of the first wagon which was draped in rich purple fabric. His heart was pounding straight out of his chest. He couldn't do this. He was going to mess up and get everyone killed.
He had to do this.
Silently Fíli swung himself onto the back, tugged the string at the entrance, and swept inside the wagon. Once there, it was too dark to see anything to he stuck out his hand and proceeded forward with tiny steps.
"Kíli?" he whispered into the dark. No answer. "Kíli?"
Nothing.
Suddenly Fíli's fingers collided with something hard and he cursed.
Crates. Nothing but crates.
To be safe, he opened the lid and felt inside of one, only to find straw and some pottery. With a sick feeling to match his racing heart, Fíli worked his way out of the purple wagon and back onto the road. He winced as his feet hit the dirt harder than he intended, but from the sound of it no one had noticed him.
Hurry before your luck runs out.
Fíli tried the next wagon, which was a patchwork of gold and blue. One look inside told him that they only thing in there was paintings and carpets.
What if…what if Kíli's not even here?
There was one more wagon he could try, but it was further up and chances are he would have to pass by people. People he wasn't too keen on seeing. But his sense of duty and family once again overtook his instinct for self-preservation.
So without another thought, Fíli drew a long knife from his belt and crept up towards the last wagon. It was maroon with silver flowers, much like the tunic of the man who's back was to Fíli but whose body was between the dwarf and his goal. Fíli considered his knife a moment, knowing he would have to make it past the man somehow. But doubt was creeping inside of him that this was the right group of merchants at all. He couldn't kill someone who could be innocent…
The dwarf promptly gripped the hilt of the knife and swung hard, thumping the man on the back of the head and collapsing him instantly.
If you didn't deserve that…sorry.
Fíli stepped over the man and inched his way up to the entrance of the maroon wagon. This had to be it, this really had to be it. He cut the string to the entrance with his knife, when someone came around the side. A young woman with red hair and a heavy dusting of freckles.
"Hey, what are y—"
Her voice cut out as soon as Fíli's knife touched her throat. The dwarf had a hand pressed to her mouth and a warning in his eyes that she seemed to understand without him speaking.
What am I doing?
Good thing she's short, that would have been embarrassing…
Fíli gestured with his head for the girl to move. She did so, with Fíli's knife pressed to the base of her throat the entire way into the wagon. He followed right behind her, but the moment that he was inside he couldn't stop his jaw from dropping.
What in Durin's name…
"It's just the flu," Kíli repeated as Heather bustled about her carriage, completely aloof to whatever the dwarf was saying. His heart was in his throat now, because as far as he could tell, he was trapped. The caravan was on the move once more
Without a word, the woman shoved Kíli's head down between his knees and began examining his back. Her fingers poked and prodded the irritated skin, making him hiss. She then yanked him back up and felt his neck for swelling. She checked his pulse and felt his forehead and even made him lie down so she could feel his abdomen.
What I wouldn't give to be at Oin's instead right now…
"You're definitely sick," she concluded with a complete lack of professional opinion. "But is if from infection or is it really just 'the flu', as you say. What are your symptoms?"
"I'm…nauseous."
As soon as he'd spoken, Heather arranged her fingers on different points of Kíli's head and squeezed, eliciting a sharp cry from the young dwarf.
"And a headache," he ground out. Heather smiled wryly and nodded, releasing his head and scribbling something down.
"Your temperature is very high," she said, sitting down on a chair. Kíli took that as an invitation to sit up on the table. He felt weird lying down in a room where someone wasn't. "I didn't find signs of an infection on your back. So it has to be something else.
Kíli swallowed nervously and then suddenly choked, consumed by a fit of coughing. Heather waited patiently as the dwarf wheezed for air.
"Must be…the…dust," Kíli gasped, trying to get control of his lungs again. The woman walked to the end of her carriage and pulled a bottle out of her cabinet and poured some of the liquid inside into a cup. He watched as she added something else and then what looked like water and handed him the concoction.
"It should coat your throat so you can breath easier," she told him.
He took the glass reluctantly, smelling the odd mixture and wincing. "I didn't say it was going to taste like cider, now down the hatch."
What choice do you have?
Kíli remembered the first time that Fíli introduced him to Nib, a clear and incredibly strong liquor from the Far Downs. The only way to get it down was to do it all at once. This was another one of those occasions.
"Aulë's beard!" Kíli cursed, trying not to spit the mixture back up. "That was horrible."
"You'll be fine," Heather assured him. She sat down again, but this time she was staring at Kíli as if there were small words written on his forehead that she was trying to read.
"Nausea, headache, and a developing cough with a fever. That could be caused by many things. Flu, bad food, snake bites…Did you feel sick before now?"
"N-no," Kíli sputtered, still trying to regain his composure.
"Are you lying?"
Kíli looked at her and ironed his face. "No." Dis, Kíli's mother, was an intelligent dwarf, so over the years Kíli had to develop himself into a keen liar to get away with half the mischief he pulled. He thanked the stars for that now.
Heather's eyes narrowed and Kíli felt his insides squirming.
"You haven't been feeling a little delirious at all?" she pressed, suspicion etched into her voice. "Grumpy, perhaps?"
"I don't know what you're getting at," Kíli lied, "But I mean, of course I have a little bit. We're always dehydrated and this isn't exactly my…ideal situation." He eyed the guard who was sitting by the entryway with a loaded bow.
"I can help you, you know," Heather continued, inching closer to him now. "I can make it better. You just have to tell the truth."
"I am."
Suddenly she reached down and snatched Kíli's hand. His first instinct was to pull away, but he knew that would make it too obvious.
"You're hands are very dirty."
"Well, what do you expect?"
Heather scowled at him and to his horror, picked up a damp cloth.
"Well then, allow me to clean them for you."
Please, no.
"Heather!"
Relief could not be sweeter.
"What is it?" she hissed. Daren was standing at the opening of her wagon now.
"They need him. Now."
Heather eyed Kíli for a moment, then shrugged and dropped his hand. "Give this one a clean shirt and wrap his back," she told the man, "And give him more water. You have to keep them alive long enough to get to the river, in case you forgot."
Daren nodded but didn't offer any polite smile. Kíli was never happier to see Daren in his life. The man grabbed his arm and began to drag him back outside, and Kíli didn't even mind.
"C'mon you," Daren growled with a dark smirk, "Demetrius has invited you to a party."
Ohhh, the plot thickens. Until next time, loves! Review if you want :)
