Merry Christmas! Here's my gift to all of you!
19
A Most Peculiar Happenstance
"Can anybody shut him up?!"
Fíli was alternating between hopeless sobs and vile curses; the curses he would throw at the merchants currently on the ship with him. They were currently docked at a small port outside the main festival, surrounded by immaculate boats with colored sails and loaded goods. Demetrius planned to take Fíli and a few others down the river to sell them in another village, while the rest of the captives were to be peddled at the original festival as planned. Fíli didn't recognize anyone who was chained up with him, only that they were all unsightly or weak. He must be going for a lower price, now that he threw such a fit on stage.
"You're a murderer," Fíli hissed, anger and grief causing him to shake. Lia was standing not far away, her hand resting on her dagger and her eyes cast out at the water. She didn't seem to mind his curses or even pay him any attention at all. Nothing Fíli said or did could cut through to her.
But confound it, he was sure going to try.
"A hideous, vile monster…"
"Someone hit him!"
Lia held up a hand and waved it dismissively. "He's alright. Let him be."
Fíli's stomach lurched at the dark bloodstains on her sleeve as she lowered her hand. Her left arm was messier than her right and she kept wiping her hand on her dark tunic in an effort to get rid of the evidence of her murder. Fíli struggled against his chains, wanting nothing more than to tear her apart. But he couldn't break them and really only hurt his wrist further in the process.
"You're all cowards!" Fíli shouted, ignoring the other slaves' urgings to shut his mouth. "Lilly livered, greedy little, mph—"
A rag was shoved in his mouth before he could say another word and a leather gag secured over his face. His face turned dark red as his anger built up until he could no longer bear it. He descended once again to tears, folding over from the sharp ache in his heart.
I swear, I swear if I get another chance I'll be better next time. Mahal, I promise. I won't ever be so reckless again. I'll be smarter. I will protect him.
Please. Oh Aulë, please don't let Kíli die.
Fíli knew his prayer was fruitless, but begging the makers' for life felt a note less painful than accepting what had happened. He had seen it with his own eyes after all, there was no denying it.
Let me take his place. I'll take his place I swear it!
Fíli's tortured cries were muffled but still audible from the gag. His face was screwed up tight and his eyes shut to the world, so at first he didn't realize that someone had approached him until he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"The loss of a brother is unforgettable. I am so sorry, lad."
Fíli's eyes snapped up to the see the sincere face of a one Master Demetrius. Fíli ripped away from the man's hand, uttering a stifled 'Get away from me!"
Demetrius gave him a pitying look and shrugged his large shoulders. "That's the way the world works, I'm afraid. Try not to cry so hard, you'll make yourself sick."
And with that, he walked away leaving a confused and miserable Fíli to stare after him. The man's son, Rodney, was watching him too but not with pity. There was something else entirely in his eyes that Fíli didn't care to determine. Whether it was anger, disgust, hatred, whatever. It didn't matter.
Kíli is gone.
"What do you want to do about this one?"
Kíli heard the words, but could do little about them. Dread was filling his chest now as Fíli was taken from his side to have his hands chained painfully behind his back. His brother's broken wrist could not possibly take well to the treatment, but if it hurt Fíli didn't reveal it. Kíli felt eyes looking at him and he peered up through his bangs to see Demetrius with a patronizing look on his face.
"We have no use for him now. Lia, if you'd be so kind."
"NO!"
Kíli's felt like someone had wedged ice into his heart and his legs went completely numb. It was good that he was being held up or else it definitely would have collapsed again. Daren grunted under his weight and shifted uncomfortably.
That's what you get, you bastard.
Lia, with her blood red hair and wild features turned to him, her shadow casting a cold darkness over Kíli. He tried feebly to struggle against Daren, but it was as if he'd lost nearly all control of his limbs. Like a nightmare, where you know tragedy is coming but you can't move. You can't scream.
A complete and utter nightmare.
Fíli was screaming and the sound of their struggle was violent in the least. Kíli turned to him, suddenly pitying his brother more than himself. For Kíli, this was just an advance on the inevitable. For Fíli, this was a failure. But he couldn't help feeling a little touched at how hard his brother was fighting to save him.
I'm sorry, Fee.
Someone struck Fíli hard on the head and Kíli winced, completely ignoring the figure of Lia waiting for his attention. He needed so say something…anything…but all the words stuck in his throat. They would sound cheap anyway, given their current predicament. It was never supposed to end this way.
So instead of speaking, Kíli signed 'I love you' in iglishmek, hoping his brother would find solace in it later. Fíli's eyes widened and Kíli choked, turning away from his brother's tortured face. Lia's cold and uncaring eyes were waiting for him, her long-hilted knife gleaming at her side. With one look from her, Daren released Kíli's arms and moved back.
Just do it.
The fiery girl took one step forward and swung her arm in an arc towards his heart. Kíli felt a sharp pain and the wind getting knocked from his chest, looking down to see only the hilt of the knife protruding from his body. He gasped for air, unable to hide his disbelief. Lia's face was an inch from his with her eyes burning. She gripped his back and used it to force the knife against him harder, though Kíli barely felt it.
She leaned in then, her lips brushing his ear and whispered something as soft as a feather.
"Fall."
Kíli's stunned body obeyed, his knees buckling underneath him until his head collided with the grass. He must have struck a rock, because a sharp pain in the back of his skull caused him to hiss in pain as Lia was bent over him. Using two hands, Lia ripped the knife from his chest and then kept her hand there a moment, as if to try and stem to blood from the wound.
But, oddly enough, he didn't feel a thing.
Perhaps death was granting him this one mercy?
Fíli's wails could be heard echoing over the grass that now served as Kíli's last resting place.
Poor nadad.
Lia backed away and groaned quietly as she looked at the red-stained knife. Blood seeped from the hand that had held Kíli's chest and ran down her arm in rivets.
My blood.
The girl moved shakily to her feet and gestured for Daren to follow her as they exited the stage, leaving Kíli and her dead brother in on the ground alone. Kíli watched her go before turning his eyes up to the wooden beams of the stage, trying to block out Fíli's distant cries.
He'd expected dying to be instantaneous. But it wasn't. He couldn't feel the wound in his chest at all minus a small stinging sensation, but everything else ached with soreness and exhaustion.
Odd, Kíli mused, It's just like falling asleep.
Kíli closed his eyes and felt the world begin to melt away. He let himself sink into the total and complete dark abyss that was waiting to embrace him.
For about three minutes.
"Hey."
Silence.
"Hey! Kíli! Wake up."
What in Durin's name…
"Open your eyes you silly git, they're gone."
Kíli's eyelids snapped open, revealing the face of Tristan hovering directly over him. "Are you alright?" he asked, "You look a bit peaky."
"WHAT the—!"
"SH!"
Tristan slammed a hand over Kíli's open mouth, his eyes wide with urgency. "You have to whisper."
Slowly, cautiously, Tristan moved his hand away. Kíli blinked at him and then let his eyes fall to the crimson stain on the boy's abdomen.
"Are…are we dead?" Kíli asked at the correct volume, utterly perplexed. He didn't expect death to be so uncomfortable.
Tristan smiled and shook his head, sitting back on his heels. Kíli's hand flew to his chest, feeling for the wound. It came away with blood stained to the skin, but he hadn't felt any pain.
"Please…" Kíli breathed, still too exhausted to work this out himself. "Explain what's going on?"
"My sister's knife," Tristan grinned impishly, "Was given to her from our parents at an odd trades fair in Gondor many years ago. It has a long hilt and a very straight blade."
"That's nice."
"It retracts," Tristan whispered, his eyes gleaming. "It works like a normal knife usually. But there's a notch on the side that, if you grip it tight enough, the blade retracts into the hilt upon impact."
"It…" What?
"There's a spring inside the hilt to guide the blade. Barely any ever made, in fact. No one saw the use. But our parents thought it would come in handy someday, and it did."
Kíli's face screwed up with this new knowledge. But…how…
"You're bleeding, though."
Tristan looked down at his shirt and then grinned wider. He raised his left hand slowly, revealing the maimed pulp of two-dozen berries clinging to his fingers. Kíli gaped at the sight a moment, before looking at his own hand.
"But…but what about me?"
Tristan pursed his lips at the sight of Kíli's chest. "Well, even though the blade retracted, she hit you hard enough to cause a believable reaction. There is a small cut there, so you probably got poked a bit." Tristan nudged him with a smirk, "Better than gettin' the full blade though."
That explains why it still stings…
"There was a lot of blood."
This seemed to concern Tristan. His brow furrowed and his eyes went to the crimson stains in the grass beside Kíli. "Well, when she 'extracted' the knife, she probably cut her own hand or something to make it look like you were bleeding."
Kíli scoffed and let his head rest back in the grass, wincing as he landed on his new bump. "How nice of her."
Tristan chuckled, but his voice sounded more sober now. "I just hope she knows what she's doing."
"This…wasn't part…of the plan?"
Kíli's eyes were threatening to close on him again and speaking became an effort that was barely worth the results.
I suppose if I'm not dead, that means I'm still sick.
Dammit.
"I'll admit that there really wasn't any semblance of a plan," Tristan sighed, "I didn't know what my sister was going to do until she insisted on using her own knife to kill me." He gave a breathless laugh then and patted Kíli's shoulder. "So you can imagine my relief!"
"Completely," the dwarf winced. Sleep was claiming him fast.
"Kíli—that is your name, isn't it?"
He nodded in reply with a curt grunt. "Right. Well, I can't stay. My sister and I will truly be murdered if we remain here. Once I find her, we'll have to make our leave of this place and never return. You're free now…"
Kíli didn't mean it, but Tristan's words died in his ears and his world fell once again to sleep.
Y'know, if you look back I really did try to tip you guys that something was up with that knife. Don't underestimate the power of seemingly unnecessary detail! Now excuse me while I cackle over my own cleverness.
I just didn't want you all to this I offed Kili during Christmas of all days! I was surprised that many were happy that Kili was 'dead', but there's still a bit of plot left and I need him in it! Have no fear, Death still has a few good swings to take before it's all over...
Thorin shallt be in the next chapter and I think you guys are going to like what he's going to bring to the table.
Once again, have a Merry Christmas (and if you don't celebrate Christmas than I hope you enjoy your respective holiday and have a wonderful day!) and thank you all for reading and sticking with me. Your reviews are so kind and I really do appreciate them!
*Yuletide Hugs*
