This chapter is more H/C than it is action, sorry folks. (Not really sorry though).
And to the Guest who thinks the story is being dragged out too much for their liking...Eh. Bugger off I'll do what I like.
Thanks for the kind reviews and support! Enjoy this chapter that is literally 8731 freaking words.
I aim to please.
14
Frigid
Kíli groaned, his head hitting the floor painfully as the wagon went over a bump. He opened his eyes into slits, allowing only a small portion of the light in. His next instinct was to stretch out and pop his joints, but he couldn't. He could barely move at all.
A small cage made of iron bars rattled around him. His knees were bent and his arms were folded, his body on its side. It was designed for humans, so he as a dwarf was able to flip over if needed—a luxury not afforded to the cage's intended—but still lying on his back or stomach wasn't an option. The height of the cage barely accommodated his shoulders, so his knees could only lie sideways.
He'd tried not to think about it. If he thought about it, he'd start to get frustrated, maybe even angry. Then he'd feel trapped and restless and start kicking out at the bars and bruise his feet. Maybe he'd start to hate everyone and everything and just want to die rather than be stuck caged like a mistreated animal.
He didn't want to think about the fact that he probably killed Millí and Gimli rather than save them. He didn't want to wonder what befell Bofur after their twin beatings in the camp. He didn't want to think about the fact that his family still hadn't rescued him, and also how pathetic it made him feel to need rescuing. He didn't want to dwell on his rapidly approaching death sentence in the form of a fever he could tell no one about.
No, he didn't feel like thinking at all. But that was the beauty of having been beaten black and blue and locked in a cage for Mahal knows how long, and suffering a lethal illness. He had plenty of aches and pains that he could focus his attention on, one at a time, to avoid the darker thoughts looming in the corners of his consciousness. His headache and nausea remained steadfast companions as well, so it was perhaps a good thing that they rarely gave him food or water. Getting sick in this cage would be incredibly unpleasant.
Kíli was also incredibly tired of feeling sorry for himself.
On this morning, as the wagon bumped and Kíli groaned, his vision didn't return to him immediately. Everything was blurry and groggy in his state of mind, unwittingly letting out a moan at the fire in his throat. Red blurry dots on the iron floor told him he'd still been coughing up blood, but he couldn't tell if it was from his fever or the beating. Gris was true to his reputation, and Demetrius had lost all sense of product preservation at the sight of his injured son.
There were people walking about, minding their own business, though he could feel their eyes find him every now and then. The atmosphere was gray and the air felt damp with impending rain. Kíli's cage was strapped to a vegetable wagon so that everyone could see him from all angles. He hated them, the merchants, more than he ever thought he could hate anyone.
Which is why on this morning he decided to focus on the blood spots on the floor until his vision returned to normal. But as the world thumped and bumped around him, his eyes focused on a bright dandelion sitting a nose length away from him. He scowled and looked behind the flower to the brunette girl carrying two buckets of pastries on her shoulders. She must fancy him. Why else would she leave a flower in his cage? What was that snake trying to pull anyway, some sort of comforting gesture? A peace offering?
Fuck her.
"I don't want your stupid flower," he growled, his voice taking on all the melodic qualities of crumpled parchment. With a bitter grunt, he swept the flower from the cage and into the mud. The girl with brunette hair raised an eyebrow at him and decided her feet would do better elsewhere.
Yeah sure, play dumb. Just keep away from me.
Kíli suddenly shivered violently, becoming aware of how cold he was without his furs. This ragged tunic and trousers did nothing to cut the chill of the air, nor temper the heat of the sun when it did make an appearance.
"It's just a little bit further," Fíli assured him. The snow was falling lazily in fat, clumsy flakes that feathered through Kíli's short dark hair. This was his nineteenth winter and Fíli's twenty-fourth. With dwarves, they aren't considered mature enough for labor or war until the age of thirty. After thirty everything starts to slow down and their aging becomes less prevalent. At nineteen, Kíli was about as old as a nine-year old human, and Fíli one that's twelve. Though when asked, Fíli and Kíli claimed they could outwit and outfight any of their human counterparts in the village, even if they were shorter. They lived longer, after all. And Kíli was still not above biting if necessity called for it.
On this particular day, the fluffy snow glimmered in the rising sunlight, clinging to the trees like white blankets. It was enchanting.
And cold.
"Fee," Kíli whined, stumbling to catch up to Fíli's longer legs, "Slow down."
Fíli turned on his eyes and smirked and Kíli nearly crashed into him. "Come on," he said, taking his brother's hand. "I don't want to eat boiled oats for dinner again."
"Tastes okay if you put honey on it," Kíli murmured, allowing Fíli to guide him through the snow. He didn't like to admit it, but Fíli had gotten a lot 'older' in the past year. His voice was getting a little deeper and he always acted all responsible and even did his own hair without help. In the past month alone he was talking to amad about how he should style his future beard. And he was taller too; Kíli barely reached the height of his shoulder now, despite his efforts to get taller by hanging off of tree branches. Millí swore that would work.
She's such a liar.
"Don't you get tired of eating sweet things though?" Fíli asked, his eyes trained ahead. Kíli wrinkled his brow at him.
"Do you?"
Fíli chuckled and adjusted the strap of his satchel. "Sometimes."
The two walked in silence for a while, Kíli admiring the white puffs his breath could make in the air. Finally Fíli stopped and narrowed his eyes at the circle of trees surrounding them.
"The pond is somewhere around here," he said, "But I don't want to go the wrong way. I can't remember which direction adad went last time." Fíli looked around again and then an idea struck him that drew a smile to his face. "Wanna try our trick again?" he asked wryly. Kíli's eyes bulged. He was still nursing a bruised tailbone from the last time they attempted 'the trick'.
"Are you sure?"
Fíli shrugged. "The ground is covered in snow. If you fall again it'll be like landing on a bunch of pillows."
That's all Kíli needed. Fíli put down his pack and held out his hand to help his brother scramble on top of his shoulders. "Can you see anything?" Fíli asked, gritting his teeth as Kíli's boot pulled his hair. Kee wobbled unsteadily a moment but composed himself, gazing through the forest.
"Not enough height," he noted. Fíli walked backwards until Kíli was in position to grab onto a low hanging tree branch. The little dwarf clambered up the tree in no time at all, despite Fíli's warning's to be careful.
"Since when are we ever careful?" Kíli muttered to himself.
"What do you see?" Fíli called, after his brother had disappeared entirely.
"We have to take the left!" Kíli shouted back. "The pond is right there." Fíli nodded and listened as his brother came crashing back down the branches.
"Catch!"
Kíli leapt from the tree before his brother could react in time, the younger dwarf flailing through the air and into the snow, sending a cloud of powder up in three different directions.
"Kíli!"
Fíli ran to the place where his brother had collided with the ground. He fell to his knees, ready to stem the tears if Kíli came up crying. Luckily, he didn't have to. Kíli sprung up laughing himself into a fit, snow trailing down the side of his face and even into his coat. Fíli sighed with relief and sat back on his heels, waiting for his brother to compose himself.
"You're alright then?" he asked as Kíli's laughs began to quiet.
"I'm fine," he snickered, "Nice catch though."
"You jumped before I even got a chance!"
The youngest shrugged and allowed his brother to help him to his feet. Together they gathered the fishing gear and headed off in the direction of the pond.
"He had snow in his boots and gloves and he didn't even care," Fíli sighed, "We should have been pa—"
"Fíli." The prince stopped short to look towards his uncle, who'd barely spoken a word to him all day. Lia and Tristan ducked their heads to avoid the icy glare of the dwarf king. Thorin's expression, however, was unreadable. "If you're well enough to tell stories then you're well enough to saddle your pony."
Fíli nodded and waited for his uncle to move on before speaking again. "I'll finish it later," he told them. They nodded in agreement and left to take care of their own steeds. Fíli patted the heads of the three wolf pups that had curled around his ankles, allowing the one with pale eyes to gnaw on his finger. They were exhausted from trying to keep up with the horses all day. Sometimes if they paused Fíli would put them in his pack, but they never wanted to stay in there for very long. "Gotta go," he sighed, freeing his finger. Fíli winced as he stood, his beaten body protesting the movement loudly.
After he had awoken from the cliff incident Oin cleared him for travel and they'd been on the road ever since. Lia and Tristan led them off the track they'd been following, reminding them that the merchants used many tricks to throw off pursuers.
"Those boot prints you've been following that you said belonged to your friend were most likely not even his," they informed the dwarves. "A merchant probably took his shoes and gave it to his child. It's common practice."
Apparently merchants take turns breaking from the group and taking wrong or windy paths, sometimes leaving the group entirely and other times sweeping away their footprints to hide their journey back to the main caravan.
So now Fíli was achy, bruised, and saddle stiff. It had rained once in the day as well, in case he wasn't already burdened enough. Despite this, the progress they were making was inspiring, even if their break was brief at best.
"Look at me," Thorin demanded, suddenly behind Fíli as he threw the saddle blanket over his disappointed pony. Minty was not ready for this. Slowly he turned, resting his back against the pony as he looked at his uncle. Thorin firmly—though not aggressively—took Fíli's jaw into his hand and tilted his face, boring his eyes into Fíli's.
"What'er you doing?" Fíli ground out; nervous to move his mouth while Thorin was examining his face.
"Checking your condition," he answered curtly, turning Fíli's face left and right.
"That's not necessary, I'm fine."
Thorin released Fíli's jaw, but didn't draw away from him. "That's for me to decide."
"I'm not a child."
"That statement is debatable."
Fíli scowled and Thorin looked like he was struggling to find words to say. He settled with, "We thought you were dead."
"I know, Uncle."
"It would have destroyed your mother."
"I know."
Thorin stared at him still, making Fíli squirm with discomfort. "I'm sorry, Thorin, I wasn't with my senses."
The king let out a cold laugh, "No, I daresay you weren't. I ought to send you home for the stunt you pulled getting in those wagons, but I can't spare the men to escort you and the journey is far."
Fíli bit his lip and allowed Thorin to adjust the bandage on his head.
"You survived by the grace of Aulë alone yesterday," he said, pulling Fíli into a rare embrace, "Don't make me explain to your brother and mother how you came to leave this world so soon."
Fíli nodded and returned the embrace with earnest before Thorin pulled away with an order to finish saddling the horse so that they could get back on the road. He smiled and reached into his coat pocket, where a pale blue feather was nestled deep within. He'd found it tangled in his furs after he regained consciousness and suddenly had an idea as to how he survived his fall and ended up right outside Lia and Tristan's cave.
"Grace of Aulë indeed," he chuckled.
Night befell the mountains once more and for the first time since they'd left Celylas, the caravan decided to make camp. Kíli's cage was torn from the wagon and thrown to the ground, jarring him mercilessly. The arrow wound in his shoulder and the layers of lashes on his back burned and his head and stomach throbbed. He was writhing in his confinement, trying to relieve the tension on his back, when someone opened the door and pulled him out by the hair.
"Strap him up," came Gris' curt order. Too weak to fight, Kíli allowed himself to be dragged to the middle of the camp and have his hands wrenched behind himself and a wooden post, where they were tightly secured with ropes so that he couldn't do anything but stand. Kíli bit back a groan as a wave of nausea hit him and a small trace of blood oozed into his mouth. His arrow wound blossomed in new agony.
Good thing I have a decent pain threshold.
The young prince found the energy to raise his eyes enough to spot the old slave wagon just beyond the campfire. The captives, however, were all outside and chained to trees. There were new tear stained faces amongst them, no doubt plucked from the streets of Celylas the very night of the party. Some of them glanced at him in fear or pity, but most kept their heads bowed. Not even Aliza or Petry could bear to look at him for too long, and Bofur was not amongst them.
Someone was suddenly in front of him, pouring water down his throat. The sudden onslaught left him choking and sputtering. The silhouette of Tobi waited for him to stop before forcing him to drink again. This time Kíli was prepared and put breathing on hold in order to take in as much of the sacred liquid as possible. When the container was empty, Tobi shoved a roll into his mouth harshly, making his lip bleed in the process. He was angry, as they all were, that Rodney had been so severely injured. Kíli was willing to bet the last thing that the boy wanted was to feed and water the dwarf partially responsible.
"Chew it," Tobi ordered, tapping his foot impatiently. Kíli did his best, but he was finding the action difficult. It felt like sticky clay in his mouth. As soon as he finished it, Tobi shoved a rag in his mouth and secured one of the accursed leather gags over his face.
"There," he said, "Make sure you smile for your friends over there."
Kíli glanced at the captives again, not catching anyone's eye. He let his head hang in exhaustion and just focused on stretching out his stiff joints.
"Mum's going to be so excited!" Kíli rejoiced, swinging their catches around in the air. "Twelve fish! Maybe we can get her to cook it with lemon and breadcrumbs."
"Or with butter and pepper over the fire," Fíli agreed, rubbing his stomach hungrily. The day had passed and the sun was on its way to being set. Fíli scrutinized the sky a moment before putting a hand on his brother's shoulder. "We should go home, Kíli."
"Now?"
"Yes, now."
Kíli looked forlornly out at the pond. Winter had just begun—albeit with a vengeance—so the water had not yet frozen save for at the edges. "Do we have to?"
Fíli took the fish from him and strung them to the outside of his pack. "Kíli, you're shivering. And we shouldn't stay out after sunset anyway, you know that."
Kíli huffed and crossed his arms. Even if he was a little cold, he wasn't about to admit it. Fíli turned his back to secure the pack, and Kíli saw his opportunity.
"You'll have to catch me first!" he cried, taking off in the other direction. He heard Fíli's cry of frustration and the crunch of his boots falling in the snow behind him. Kíli whooped in excitement. Feeling his brother closing in, Kíli swung himself up on the nearest tree branch, regained his footing, and leapt over Fíli's passing head.
"Can't get me!" he teased, scrambling to his feet. Fíli spun on his heels with his eyes flashing in anger, which only pumped Kíli's adrenaline harder. He was in such a rush to get away that he tripped once. Then twice. And the third time he propelled himself forward with so much force that he couldn't correct his mistake until it was too late.
The pond water was so cold it was actually painful. Kíli's heart skipped a beat and his breath froze in his lungs, his eyes aching from the exposure to such a frigid temperature. The shock of impact lasted only a moment, however, until Kíli writhed and pulled his head from the water.
"Whoa!"
Kíli was trying to regain enough control to pull himself out when Fíli's hand on the collar of his coat did the work for him. "Kíli you idiot," he chided, pulling his little brother far away from the pond. "That's what happens when you don't pay attention."
"Oh sh-shut up-p Fee," Kíli muttered, unable to stop the massive shivers wracking his body. Fíli bit his lip and pushed the wet bangs off Kíli's forehead.
"You can't wear these anymore," Fíli sighed, nodded to the wet garments, "Even though we're not far from home, mum says never to wear we clothes in the winter."
"T-then what am I s-supposed to do?" Kíli groaned. "G-go naked?"
Fíli shook his head. "We'll have to share."
Piece by piece, Kíli stripped away his wet clothes. His undergarments remained dry enough to keep, but all of his socks were useless. Fíli gave him two pairs of his dry socks, because at least Fíli had dry boots. Fíli also gave him his wool leggings and his coat. Fíli reasoned that he had three shirts on thanks to Dis' aptitude towards over-preparation, and a dry cloak he could draw around himself. Luckily Fíli's coat was big on Kíli, so if pulled tightly the furs would encompass his neck and ears. Fíli also provided him with a wool cap.
"Bu-ut your ears w-will get cold-d," Kíli protested when he was handed the cap.
"My cloak has a hood, see?" Fíli pulled the fur-lined hood over his head and smiled. "Nothing to worry about."
"How are ya doin', laddie?"
Kíli's eyes opened to find Bofur, albeit a little more black and blue than he usually was, chained to a tree not far from his post. His first reaction was to jump forward, which he greatly regretted. Kíli's arm sockets were screaming in protest and his legs wobbled like the bones were turning to pudding. Somehow he'd still fallen asleep for brief periods of time if he angled himself just right. He also could no longer feel his hands, but other than that he felt oddly…alright. He certainly wasn't feeling well, but maybe just a hair better than he felt before the night began. He still felt nauseated and his head still ached, but they were ebbing.
But Mahal, it was getting colder.
He wanted to respond to Bofur, but his gag was tightly secured and his hands were on sabbatical. He settled for a brief nod that Bofur returned. It was good to see him alive.
"Here he is, our little meal ticket," Demetrius' voice rang. It sounded significantly less cheery than he'd grown accustom to. Kíli waited as the robust man circled around him to the front. Mahal he looked tired.
"Well don't you look just awful," Demetrius muttered. "It's a shame. There was so much promise with you dwarves, and somehow you've managed to turn the whole thing sour."
Kíli didn't answer. He didn't even look at the man as he spoke.
"My son, Rodney, is recovering," Demetrius informed him, "You're lucky." He paused a moment, but when Kíli didn't respond he turned away.
"Take him to Heather and let's get moving. We've got to get to the Greyflood on time, people."
"Fíli, m'hungry," Kíli mewed. Fíli gritted his teeth so that he wouldn't snap at his brother. They were both hungry, this wasn't news. Instead he looked at Kíli and sighed at the sight of him trembling even beneath the coat. He reached out for him and found his own hand shaking as well. Come to think of it, his teeth were starting to hurt from chattering so hard. He'd been so focused on the path…
"Come clo-oser t'me s-so we can ke-eep each'er warm," he ground out, as Kíli ducked under his arm. The exposed pieces of the little dwarf's hair were frozen stiff in the unforgiving air. The brothers wrapped their arms around each other and trudged clumsily forward as the sky began to darken.
"The g-gate should be…be just be-eyond these t-trees," Fíli informed in a wavering voice, "We're a-almost home."
Right?
"I wa'take a b-break," Kíli whispered, "M'tired."
"I thi-ink we sh-should keep going," Fíli responded, closing his eyes against the dizziness clouding his head. Snow fell from the sky and clung to his cheeks and hair, but they were taking longer and longer to melt. He couldn't figure out how long they'd been out, he just knew that they had to be somewhere.
"I d-don'feel good," the darker dwarf whined. Fíli's frozen fingers dug into the fabric of Kíli's—well, his—coat in a weak attempt to comfort his brother. "Le'go."
"No, Kee w-we gotta—"
The younger tore away from his brother, allowing the harsh chill to blow between them. Fíli stumbled back and fell into the snow as Kee propelled himself forwards and got sick. A wave of nausea hit Fíli as well, but he held it back. As soon as Kíli was done, he scrambled back to his brother with tears in his eyes.
"F-Fee…"
"D-don't cry," he warned him, "It-t will we-et y'face."
The brothers wrapped up in each other again and pushed themselves up to their frozen feet.
Thorin's company had aimed to cross the great bridge only to find it blocked at their arrival. The man in charge said the bridge was under works and that they would collapse it if they dared cross. Tristan and Lia rerouted them to a smaller, lesser-known bridge to the east, but it did add time on to their journey. "Demetrius probably timed it that way on purpose," Lia told them, "Or they wrecked the bridge themselves."
They had ridden all night and day to make up for time lost, finally crossing the small bridge and turning in the direction of Celylas. But after thirty hours or so had come and gone, the ponies would have no more of it.
And though he wouldn't openly admit it, Thorin's ass would have no more of it either.
"The Harvest Ball is an annual event held in different villages every year," Tristan informed them, "It was held in Celylas this year. We were headed in that direction ourselves, though we would never dare display our wares there. They were too rare."
"Doesn't matter now, does it?" Dwalin grunted, tearing the saddle from his horse.
Tristan bit back his retort and shrugged, "My point is that we're close. The ball was scheduled to take place just yesterday evening. It won't be long now."
"Good," Thorin replied briskly, "It's been long enough."
The king turned to see Fíli unsaddling his horse with an impressively composed face. The color of the bruises they'd seen on him would suggest he was anything but comfortable, but it made Thorin proud that his nephew was strong in the face of pain.
"Dis and Telor won't be back for how long then?" Thorin asked, Balin standing on the hearth of his stone home.
"According to the messenger, they'll be gone for at least three days. They need them in the eastern sect to settle some domestic politics."
"Very well, Balin. Thank you." Thorin gestured towards the fire he had just lit and smiled at the older dwarf. "Would you like to come inside and warm yourself? I have hot cider, if you feel inclined."
"Much obliged," the white-haired dwarf grunted, stepping out of the cold. "It's been snowing since the sun rose this morning."
"And doesn't look ready to stop at any point," Thorin concurred, shutting the chilly dusk out. The old dwarf brushed off the ice crystals clinging to his coat and hung his cloak, finding a comfortable spot to sit by the fire. Thorin poured two hearty mugs of cider and joined his friend, putting his boots as close to the flames as he dared.
Balin watched the fire dance in silence for a moment, enjoying the reprieve. When suddenly he noticed just how silent it was.
"Where are the lads?"
Thorin seemed surprised. "Were they not going to the eastern sect as well?"
Balin shook his head. "They were not with them. That's why, I assume, the messenger sounded as if the news was vitally important."
Thorin was on his feet in an instant. The boys were not supposed to be at training today…but upon further inspection, their coats and boots were gone and so was the fishing gear.
"They must have gone to that pond Telor was talking to Fíli about last night," Thorin groaned, running a hand down his face.
"In this weather?" Balin gasped, setting down his mug. "We have to go after them!"
"I agree. They know to be back before dusk."
"I'll get Dwalin, he can help us look."
Thorin pulled on his thickest fur and shoved two blankets into a pack. "Thank you Balin. I'll meet you at the bell tower in ten minutes."
"Care for soup?"
Fíli turned to find Lia standing behind him with a clay bowl of stew. He took it from her immediately and nodded his thanks. "How are you feeling?" she asked, brushing a strand of radically curly red hair behind her ear.
"I'm fine."
"I didn't ask if you were fine."
"Well," Fíli turned to face her again, not hiding his irritation. "That's all I care for you to know then."
Lia sighed and continued fiddling with her hair. "The forest is strange here. I keep feeling like I'm being watched or something." Fíli didn't answer. She tried again. "Would you like an ale?"
"…You have some?"
Lia shrugged. "I could find some. We're in a caravan of dwarves after all."
Fíli sighed and turned away from her. "I have other things to worry about."
"We'll be finding yer brother soon, Fíli," she reminded him.
"Not soon enough," he snapped. The girl chewed her lip in contemplation as Fíli felt his ire die down. "He could be dead by now for all I know."
"Why would you think that? They want to sell him, not kill him."
Fíli caught himself before he revealed Kíli's illness. He still didn't trust her enough. "My brother has a knack for trouble."
Tristan approached then, guiding the two merchant horses by the reins. They looked to be in fine condition in comparison to the exhausted ponies. Fíli crossed his arms and shook his head. "How is it that your horses are fine and ours are dead on their feet?"
The young man shrugged. "Your company is brave, but ill prepared. Your ponies cannot handle this terrain."
"And yours are?"
Tristan pulled closer and lowered his voice so that only his sister and Fíli could hear him. "They were bred to be scouting horses, travelling long distances and harsh terrains. Unlike these ponies. With this group, it will take us two, maybe three days to reach Celylas."
"We're really that far behind?" Fíli hissed.
"I'm afraid so," Lia sighed. Fíli groaned and ran a hand through his matted hair. This ordeal was so frustrating.
"And how long would it take on your fancy scouting horses?"
Tristan shrugged. "A day without rest, if we need them to."
The blonde dwarf bit his lip and looked over his shoulder at Thorin. Would he really do this again? Run off into unknown peril and leave the company behind?
His eyes flitted to his pack, where the precious Mallos was kept safe. Luckily he had not taken his bag with him to get firewood, or it would've been lost with the fleeing merchants.
Without golden flower's mend,
Devil can't be slain.
And in the dark his hand extend,
And taken then, to mark the end.
To never wake again.
Fíli tightened his lips and turned back to Lia and Tristan. "Well," he whispered, "We need them to."
Kíli's leg became tangled in Fíli's and the two collapsed into the snow. The younger's head flopped in exhaustion and he blinked wearily at his brother with a warm smile. "This's goo-spo' f'sleep asany."
The sun had completely set and the brother's were quite lost. Fíli had been sure that the gate was through those trees. And then he was positive it was through the next set of pines. And then again, around a cedar tree. Regardless of how many times he was sure, he still wasn't where he was trying to go. And for the life of him, he couldn't really recall what was so urgent that he find it. It was warming up now and their shivering had stopped. Kíli warmed up the fastest, he even unbuttoned his coat to relieve some of the heat. Now Fíli felt stifled himself, and rather tired. He took off his hood and sighed in relief, letting his head fall back so he could take in the sky.
Stars are pretty.
"W'shouldn't stop," Fíli noted quietly.
"Why?"
Fíli shrugged. Seemed like the right thing to say. But in the end, he wasn't sure where to go.
"W'can…we…y'right. Sleep," Fíli slurred to his brother, aiming to pat his head but missing. "S'good here."
Kíli nodded in thanks and rested his head on Fíli's shoulder.
Fíli continued to stare up at the stars when a voice on the wind caught his attention. Could there be wolves?
"Fíli…Kíli…"
The older prince laughed. He recognized the voice but couldn't pin point exactly who it was.
"…Answer me lads..."
"Hell-lo!" Fíli shouted out, his words getting caught on his tongue. The voices grew more urgent, but Fíli couldn't be bothered. He was starting to draw a picture of a pine tree in the snow with his finger and he really didn't need the interruption.
"Fíli! Kíli!"
Fíli swung his head to find three dark figures rushing towards them. He threw his arms around Kíli and drew back into the snow, hoping they hadn't seen him. But they had and they were coming.
"St'back!" Fíli warned, searching the snow for a stick or something else he could use to fend off his attackers.
"It's us Fíli, calm down," a familiar voice reassured him. The blonde dwarf blinked in confusion as one of the figures knelt down in front of him.
"Unc'a Thorn?"
Thorin cursed at the state of his nephews and drew the blankets from his pack. Fíli yelped as a different figure took one of them and threw it around him.
"It's Dwalin laddie, be still."
"Be careful with them," Balin warned, "If you jostle them too much you could shock their systems."
Fíli felt his fingers be pried from Kíli as he was consumed in a blanket and enclosed into Dwalin's coat. Balin helped Thorin and his brother fasten their furs so that the children were firmly and safely against the grown dwarves' chests inside the coats.
"He's cold as ice," Thorin hissed, tearing the frozen wool cap from Kíli's head. It stuck to the child's icy hair and the realization that the young one had been exposed to water chilled him to the bones in more ways than one. With a grimace, he positioned Kíli deeper into his coat and led the trek back to the village. Balin brought the boys' packs while Dwalin carried the protesting Fíli.
"M'alright," the boy insisted, "m'fine."
All Fíli got was an order from Dwalin to be silent.
The journey home was wrought with steely silence as the two dwarves carrying children tried not to stumble or make any excessive movements. Fíli eventually fell still, his cold cheek rested against Dwalin's chest.
"I'll run ahead and get Oin and some hot water," Balin said, "I'll meet you at the house."
With that the elder dwarf was off, taking the pack full of wet clothes and fish with him.
"How is he?" Thorin asked, nodding to his companion's bundle.
"Still, but breathing." Dwalin wasn't sure if he should ask the same question. "The little one?"
Thorin's heart panged and unconsciously his arms tightened around Kíli's small form. "He's cold."
"But breathing?"
There was a pause, as if Thorin wasn't entirely sure. "Yes."
"It's a start."
The distressed group came upon Thorin's house with the fire already lighting up the windows. Balin opened the door the second they were at the hearth, ushering them inside. Thorin let out a sigh of relief at the bite of winter air was extinguished the moment the door was shut. "Oin's on his way," Balin informed them, retrieving more blankets from the closet. The older dwarf had already torn the longer mattress from Thorin's bed and placed it as close to the fire as possible. Dwalin and Thorin gingerly retrieved their respective bundles and laid them both so that they were horizontal to the fire, their heads slightly overlapping. Then they got to work removing the cold, wet clothing immediately and assessed the damage as they went.
Fíli's pulse was stronger than Kíli's, though his skin was more damaged. The beginnings of frostbite wracked his nose, fingers, and ears. His fingers were the worst, as they discovered he'd given Kíli his thicker set of gloves. But his arms and back were red with cold, as he wasn't wearing a coat when they found him.
Kíli's breaths were shallow and his pulse was weak. His nose and feet were showing early signs of frostbite, but for the most part Fíli's coat had protected him from the winds. But he was smaller, and damper than Fíli, so the cold must have affected him worse. Thorin did his best to keep his mind empty while they worked to dry off the dwarflings and dress them in the warmest clothes they could find.
Oin slipped through the door quickly, hauling a huge sack of supplies with him. "How are they?" he asked immediately.
"Breathing, but unconscious…or sleeping. We haven't tried to wake them to see."
Oin nodded and reached into his back, pulling out several leathery water skins. "Fill these with warm water, not boiling," he instructed, handing them to the waiting Balin. He then approached the mattress, checking the boys' vitals as Thorin and Dwalin wrapped them into blanket cocoons.
"Do you know how long they were outside?"
Thorin shook his head. "I haven't been home."
The healer nodded, continuing to examine the boys. He clicked his tongue at the sight of their fingers and toes and harsh looking noses and lips. "They're strong boys," he concluded, "But we need to work diligently."
Balin started tucking the water skins into the blankets when Oin stopped him. "You can't put those on their arms and legs yet!" he barked, "You need to start with the core or you'll stop their hearts."
Balin raised his hands and stepped away, allowing Oin to position the skins. The movement seemed to wake Fíli, as the boy let out a prolonged groan. His eyes slid open, but he didn't seem fully aware. Thorin snapped his fingers in front of the boy's face in an effort to find some recognition.
"Fíli?" he urged, "Fíli, can you hear me?"
The dwarfling's eyes remained on the flames a moment, before sliding over to Thorin's face. Thorin smiled grimly and rested a hand on the young boy's shoulder. "How do you feel?"
"C-cold," he answered in a small voice. Thorin should feel the young dwarf shivering even through his cocoon of blankets and furs. Oin was there in an instantly, examining Fíli's eyes with his brow knitted.
"Dwalin, take some of that hot water from the pot and load it with sugar or honey, whichever you find first. Thorin, grab something for him to eat. Bread, nuts, anything."
"Wha-at's even-n hap-happening?" Fíli whimpered, tears springing to his eyes. "W-why can't I-I move?"
"You were found out in the snow Fíli," Oin informed him in a gentle voice, trying the boy's tears with the hem of his sleeve. "Your body is trying to rewarm itself."
Fíli's eyes darted around the room, but the constricting blankets kept him from seeing much more than what was directly above him.
"K-Kee…"
"We have him. He's safe. Try not to worry Fíli."
The food and drink were brought swiftly. Thorin brought a hearty slice of bread that was loaded with dates and nuts and toasted it in the flames a moment. "We need you to eat and drink Fíli," Oin told him, "It'll help warm you up."
Thorin gently lifted Fíli so that he was sitting up against his chest. Fíli untangled his arms from the blankets to attempt to feed himself, only to realize his could barely keep a grip on the bread. After lots of bickering and stubbornness, the elders finally convinced the dwarfling to let them help him. When the hot drink was gone and the bread was half finished, Fíli was allowed to lie back down with his feet elevated.
Kíli took longer to awaken. The dwarves stayed close to provide body heat and the water skins were replaced over and over on each of the children to ensure they were still warm. Fíli drifted back into sleep long before Kíli even showed signs of consciousness.
"Am-mad…"
"Kíli," Thorin was at the dwarfling's side the moment he made a sound. "Look at me."
Kíli had just started shivering, which according to Oin was a sign that his body temperature was finally rising. The child's pupils were slightly dilated and he seemed to have trouble focusing or even speaking. Fat tears welled up in his dark eyes and ran down his cheeks, but he was helpless to explain them. Thorin managed to get the child to focus on him long enough for him to get some of the hot honey water into his system with a few bites of bread. He was asleep again in moments, with Oin debating putting a cloth in his mouth so that his shivering wouldn't break his teeth. Thorin closed his eyes and rested his forehead on his youngest nephew's blanketed form, praying for Aulë to get them through this night.
"Thank you, I can take it from here."
Heather pulled Kíli's arm around her shoulder and pried him away from the reluctant merchant. The dwarf hissed in pain as he was helped to a cot in the long wagon where Heather worked. He could see in the dark back corner the cot that housed the wounded Rodney. Kíli averted his eyes, unable to stem the bitterness that boiled inside his chest when looking at the boy. Kíli had paid a heavy price for that boy's wound.
Heather circled him, poking and prodding at different places. She sighed when she looked at the arrow wound. "You're lucky it wasn't deeper," she reminded him. "But all this commotion is not helping the recovery."
Kíli scoffed, overtaken by a full body shiver as Heather's chilly fingertips touched his skin. She diligently cleaned his arrow wound, his lashes, checked his bruises and bones—she suspected some of his finger bones and ribs were cracked by Gris—and made him rinse his mouth out several times with salt water and something intense that sort of burned. Then he was given ointment, bandaged, and forced to drink a large cup of water and eat a sandwich composed of apple slices and cheese. As a second thought, seeing how sore and raw Kíli's throat was, she gave him a tonic to drink as well.
"Could I sleep a moment?" Kíli rasped, barely able to contain his shivering. Was winter really coming upon the mountains so quickly? He could've sworn the Harvest had just begun…
"Unfortunately I think that they will be back for you at any moment," Heather sighed, scribbling some notes down on a scrappy piece of paper. Kíli slumped a little in disappointment, when suddenly the healer was directly in front of him.
"I noticed you aren't as nauseous as you were before," she whispered, taking his hand. "But this," she held up his hand so he could see the black darkening his nails like ink stain. "This does not look healed. Are you chilled?"
The Durin stubbornness rose to the surface of Kíli's defenses, despite its fruitlessness. "I'm not sick."
"I can feel your temperature on your skin, dwarf. Do you feel cold, yes or no?"
"Well…" Kíli fought for other answers, "I'm not wearing a shirt…and I'm injured…and—"
Heather's face twisted up in frustration and concern. "Did you not see the Mallos I left?" she whispered, her voice pitching. "I tried to put it close enough for you to see it."
Kíli felt a pit in his stomach. That dandelion that he threw so carelessly out of the cage…
"That was Mallos?" he hissed, praying for a way to escape his own recklessness.
"Keep your voice down!" Heather closed her eyes and dropped her head. "You didn't take it."
"I…I didn't know. No one ever told me what it looks like. I thought…"
"Where is it?"
"I…I threw it out."
"I could have lost everything for that stupid little flower, Kíli. They cost a fortune on the Greyflood markets, Demetrius would have had me killed or cast out. I can't believe you didn't take it."
"I didn't know! Why didn't you tell me?"
"I had to be discreet," she groaned. "Even in here, they can—"
Rodney moaned and Heather fell silent a moment to ensure that was all he was going to do. She leaned in closer to Kíli and put a gentle but shaky hand on his arm. "I have children I need to feed, Kíli. Children who knew hunger far too long before I came into this caravan. I hope you understand," she moved her hand from his arm to his face, brushing back his hair in a mothering fashion. "I can't help you anymore."
Kíli felt so stupid and so terrified that he didn't know how to answer, so he simply nodded. He did understand. These people were dangerous; he could only expect a stranger to stick out her neck so far.
The cure had been so, so close.
Heather smiled weakly at him and patted his head. "I'll make you some hot tea that will help you fall asleep, even if they do put you in the awful cage again. For a while, you shouldn't feel a thing."
Kíli nodded again, this time finding the strength to say, "Thank you."
Kíli cried out, writhing weakly against his blankets. Fíli rolled over, bundle and all, to comfort him.
"Shh, K-Kee, it's alright."
"My f-fingers feel li-ike they're on f-fire," Kíli whimpered, trying to pull off the gloves that were trapping heated rice packets against his fingers.
"Don't," Fíli warned him, "They ha-ave to help your fingers warm-m up or else you might not b-be a-ble to do archery as well."
"It hurts."
"I know," the yellow dwarf agreed, "Mine do too."
Kíli wriggled until his cocoon was nestled against Fíli's, burrowing his head against him. "I'm s-sorry, Fee."
Fíli freed his arms and wrapped them around his brother. "It's f-fine, I promise. I'm s-sorry too."
It didn't take long for the exhausted little dwarf to fall asleep while Fíli was holding him. When Thorin crept back through to check on him, he gasped to see the oldest with his arms out of the blankets.
"Fíli, what in Durin's name do you think you're doing?" he admonished, throwing his own coat around the dwarfling in his efforts to warm him quickly. Fíli just blinked and looked back at Kíli.
"He's s-still shivering so mu-uch," the yellow dwarf muttered. "Are you s-sure it's not too soon t-to warm up his fing-gers?"
"I trust Oin," Thorin replied, making sure Fíli's own rice packets were still warm. "And Oin said Kíli's out of the danger for afterdrop, as are you. I know it hurts, but—"
"I'm fine," was the boy's quick reply, "If you—you're sure h-he's okay."
Thorin smiled and placed a hand on Fíli's face. "There will come a time when we discuss what happened out there and what should have happened instead, but it is not today. You've been very brave Fíli, even though I know you are hurting. For that I am proud of you."
There came a shivery little whimper and suddenly both dwarves were aware of two teary brown eyes very much not asleep. "Am I b-brave, too, Uc-cle Thorin?"
Well, decidedly lesser so, but that was to be expected of a dwarfling as young as Kíli. So Thorin merely tightened the blankets around Kíli and knelt down so he was more level to him. "I think you could be," Thorin whispered, "If you would take on a mug of soup for me. I think that would be very brave of you, don't you, Fíli?"
Kíli looked from his uncle to his caterpillar of a brother, who gave him a big reassuring nod. He returned to look at Thorin and put on his bravest face possible. "Fine. I'll t-try."
Fíli sighed with relief. All night long he had faded in and out of sleep, fighting unconsciousness to watch as Oin breathed warm air into Kíli's lungs, Thorin having to hold him to provide additional heat, and Kíli's hypothermia induced apathy towards hot beverages and food. Fíli worried for his brother endlessly that night, even waking once from a nightmare where Kíli had passed away right next to him. It had taken Thorin hours to calm him down after that.
But at least now Kíli was starting to come back.
Fíli sighed and ran a hand down his face. "I can still remember waking up and seeing Kíli alive and breathing next to me and I just…I've never felt so relieved." Lia and Tristan were silent, their eyes scanning over the sleeping dwarves and Brent's kin.
"I broke my leg once, retrieving a special bird from the forest canopy in Fangorn. Tristan hand to carry me all the way back to our caravan," Lia offered, nudging her brother affectionately.
"As I recall, you cursed me the entire way there for the way I was walking," Tristan added dryly.
"You were not being gentle."
The group fell silent, and Fíli let his fingers travel to his pack to check on the Mallos one more time before throwing it over his shoulders.
"Are we ready then?" he whispered, his heart hammering in his chest. He looked to his sleeping uncle and felt such guilt and betrayal, and yet he knew it wouldn't be enough to stop him.
"You and Tristan go ahead, I'm going to gather some last minute supplies," Lia responded. The boys nodded and Fíli rose from his perch, joining Tristan on his large grey horse.
"We're going to get to know each other very well, aren't we?" Fíli muttered, as the boy's chest pressed against the back of his head.
"Undoubtedly," was his grim reply. And with that they were off, passing through the camp in silent haste.
You can still turn back, Fíli's head screamed at him. You could call this all off right now.
Fíli closed his eyes and tried not to think. He couldn't go back. He wouldn't let his brother go cold again, not if he had the power to change it.
Thorin would understand.
Eventually.
Kíli and Fíli were eventually moved into their own bedroom, where Thorin kept the fire large and ever present. Fíli had recovered enough of his strength that he was allowed to occasionally get up and retrieve snacks from the kitchen if he wanted them. Of course he always brought a treat back for Kíli as well.
"How do your ears feel?" Fíli asked, handing Kíli a biscuit with lemon-baked fish. After things had calmed, Guinn had volunteered to come over and help Thorin with the boys a bit while Dis and Telor were away. It was she who managed to cook up the boy's twelve fish as a special treat in their recovery.
"What?"
Fíli chuckled and shook his head. The icy water had given Kíli an ear infection and he was still having trouble hearing. The blonde dwarf untangled himself from the blanket he chose to be his walking companion and crawled into Kíli's bed, placing his arm around his younger brother's shoulder.
"I don't need you to comfort me," Kíli muttered, "I'm brave."
"I know," Fíli answered, "But is it alright if I do anyway?"
"What? We're giving Uncle grays?"
Fíli laughed and forced Kíli's head to rest on his shoulder so he could hold a warm damp rag over his brother's aching ears. Despite his original protest, Kíli didn't pull away.
"Yeah. Something like that, Kee."
Kíli was freezing. His mind kept playing back to the one and only time he'd ever felt this cold. His whole body shook and his bones felt like ice. It was giving him a headache and the shivers were sapping his strength. And yet, sweat still ran down the sides of his face as if he'd been set out in the summer sun.
When Gris came to fetch Kíli from Heather's wagon, he disregarded everything the poor woman tried to tell him about giving Kíli a warm shirt because 'dwarves chill faster than humans'—lies—and that he needed to be treated better if they wanted him to live all the way to the Greyflood. He simply took Kíli back to the cage and locked him in as if Heather hadn't spoken a word.
But this time, Kíli knew no one could help him. They'd tried, and he failed them all. Maybe he deserved to be in this cage? Maybe this was payback for killing Millí and Gimli?
The tea Heather had given him worked its purpose and for most of the day, Kíli slept despite his discomfort. He was groggy then, when the caravan stopped once more for the night. He wasn't entirely prepared for being tied to a post and displayed, once again, as a warning to the other captives.
Honestly, he just wanted a warm blanket and a large fire.
What are they going to tell amad and adad? Kíli wondered. What if they never even find out what happened to me?
He was so lost in his head, shaken by his own personal winter that he didn't hear his name being shouted. Not at first.
But he wouldn't miss it the second time. He'd know that voice anywhere.
"Kíli! Kíli answer me!"
The cold that had been chilling Kíli's bones stuck its icy claws into Kíli's heart as he raised his head the best that he could. His eyes couldn't find him, but his ears knew the truth. He opened his mouth and forced himself to croak out a response.
"Fee…Fíli!"
Oooh, hopefully that'll wet the appetite of story progression as I fulfill my little need to write out some desperately needed HC. And yes, Kili's moved into the next stage of GF. I did research, the hypothermia stuff should be pretty accurate.
I hope.
I really appreciate everyone who has been reviewing, truly! It brightens my day every time. And I might post the 'deluxe' version of the little Frigid bit in a different story. Just an fyi.
Until next time then! Reviews are beautiful wonderful things that make me happy!
