Sooo, here we are, as promised another chapter quickly up to make up for the wait! Thank you so much for all your lovely reviews, I hope you enjoy this one.
A note to a guest who wanted more other character POV – thank you so much for reviewing, I will try and put some more variation in the rest of the story, but this chapter was already written :)
Also, Rebecca kindly pointed out a mistake in the Green Dragon song :) Sorry about that, but I had to write the song from memory when I wrote the chapter due to a lack of internet, so yeah :)
Anyway, on with the story.
Read. Enjoy. Review.
Chapter Eleven # Lost In Translation #
"No – Kíli, run!"
"Come on, Kíli!" Fíli yelled in fear as a huge warg pounded towards his brother, coming closer and closer by the moment.
"Fíli, go!" Kíli cried as he turned and fled towards the blond dwarf, terror shining in his eyes, but Fíli shook his head, whipping a knife from his belt.
Within a fraction of a second he aimed and drew back his arm. If he were any less certain of his abilities he would not have dared to let go of his knife, but Fíli knew that there was no chance that he would hit his brother.
He hurled his blade through the air, missing Kíli by a good few inches. The knife embedded in the face of his brother's would-be-attacker and knocked the dead orc clean off its warg. His victory was short lived, however, as the warg began to gain on Kíli even further without the weight of its rider.
"Fíli, Kíli!" Thorin roared, and Fíli could read the panic in his voice as the warg opened its jaws right behind a sprinting Kíli.
"Argh!" Kíli gritted his teeth as he pounded closer to Fíli, who stretched out his hand.
"Come on, Kíli!" The moment he judged brother as within reached forward and grabbed Kíli's arm, swinging him around and all but throwing him down the hole before sliding down himself.
The moment they touched the ground, Thorin followed them in, pushing them both further back towards the others and guarding the entire company. The warg smashed in after them, but it could not get in past its gnashing jaw, and Thorin was quick to thrust Orcrist into the vile beast's snout.
Fíli watched Kíli lean against the side of the cave and take several deep breaths, his bow still gripped in his hand.
A strange horn met Fíli's ears and he exchanged glances with Dwalin. An orc fell into the cave, kicking and squalling and Thorin beheaded it quickly, before ripping an arrow out of the orc's chest.
"Elves!"
Fíli glanced at the thin slither of sunlight with a surge of guilty relief. Elves may have been treacherous weed-eating exhibitionists, but their hatred of orcs was far stronger than their hatred of elves, so Fíli knew that their attackers stood no chance.
They had been saved, and whether Thorin had the good grace to see it or not Fíli was grateful.
He turned to his brother. "That was close…"
Kíli nodded with a slight grin and another deep breath. "Too close…"
Fíli laughed breathlessly as Bilbo swatted Kíli's arm.
"At this rate you'll be giving me a heart attack before we reach the Misty Mountains, you stupid little fool." The hobbit joked, though his face looked strained to Fíli.
"I'm sorry, Bilbo." Kíli replied honestly and Fíli smiled.
He liked the hobbit. Bilbo Baggins was friendly and he was funny, but more importantly he seemed to care more about Kíli than anything else in Middle Earth, and if Fíli knew his brother as well as he thought he did, he knew that the feeling was reciprocated.
"I cannot see where the pathway leads; do we follow it or no?" Dwalin yelled, and Thorin nodded with grim reluctance.
"Lead on, Dwalin."
"Where does this pathway lead, do you think?" Kíli murmured to Bilbo, who shrugged.
"As long as it leads away from the orcs, I'm happy."
Fíli snorted softly, and subtly herded the hobbit and his brother in front of him, before squeezing into the thin tunnel himself. Several times Fíli's swords got stuck between two inconveniently placed rocks and he wondered just how exactly Bombur was managing to fit through.
Finally, Kíli and Bilbo spilt out into the sunlight and Fíli followed, staring at the sight that had taken his brother's breath away. His heart sank.
"The valley of Imladris." Gandalf announced cheerfully as Thorin followed Fíli onto the ledge. "In the Common Tongue it is known by a different name."
"Rivendell…" Bilbo murmured, and Kíli gave a small smile.
"It's beautiful…"
"I suppose it is, for elves." Fíli cut across his brother and drawled out the last word with a hint of repulsion, well aware of his uncle arguing with the wizard in the background. He knew that Thorin did not have such a favourable opinion of the hobbit, and with the mood his uncle was in, Bilbo would do well not to draw attention to his tolerance of elves.
He was a little shocked when Kíli sent him a strange look of what appeared to be a combination of disappointment and even disgust. Fíli recoiled inside at the look, but on the outside he managed to send a look of confusion – and nothing more – back at his brother.
"Come along, Fíli, Kíli…" Gandalf called in a deceivingly merry voice, and Kíli followed Bilbo, only breaking eye contact with Fíli only at the last second.
Confused, Fíli shook his head and followed his brother down the long windy path towards Rivendell. Silence swallowed the company's mutters as they passed between two statues of elf guards, and saw a tall elf descending towards Gandalf.
"Mithrandir…"
Fíli recognised the elves' name for Gandalf that preceded a whole babble of elvish nonsense.
"I must speak with Lord Elrond." Gandalf declared, and the elf inclined his head.
"My Lord Elrond is not here."
Before Gandalf could open his mouth, another horn sounded, and Fíli's keen ears picked up the sound of hoof beats on the smooth stone. There were horses coming their way – many horses.
He turned and watched as two dozen elven warriors rode towards them, and Thorin's bark met his ears quickly.
"Close ranks!"
Ignoring the shocked look on Kíli's face, Fíli flung his brother into the middle of the group along with Ori and Bilbo, and drew one of his swords, joining the threatening exterior as the horses began to circle them.
There was a good deal of growling and hissing from the dwarves and disdainful looks from the elves before the circling stopped.
"Gandalf…" A regal elf that Fíli took to be their leader addressed Gandalf with a wry smile.
"My Lord Elrond…" Gandalf smiled back, and the pair began speaking some more elvish babble before finally smiling.
"Welcome Thorin, son of Thráin."
Thorin bristled. "I do not believe we have met."
"You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew Thror, when he ruled under the mountain." The elf explained.
"Indeed…" Fíli could hear the tension beneath his uncle's voice. "He made no mention of you."
Fíli heard a slight hiss from behind him, so quiet that the others missed it and he glanced over his shoulder. Kíli looked like he was sucking a lemon.
Fíli's confusion grew as the elf raised an eyebrow and started to speak in elvish.
As per usual, Glóin jumped to the most likely conclusion. "Does he offer us insult?"
"He's offering us food and shelter." Kíli snapped, rubbing his forehead.
Fíli's eyes widened and he barely hid his gasp.
He understood that. Kíli speaks elvish… Oh, no…
The dwarves all went very still and Kíli stared pointedly at Gandalf, stubbornly refusing to meet the gaze of any of the dwarves. The elves all appeared to pick up on the attention and directed their curious gazes at Kíli.
"We would very much appreciate taking you up on that offer." Thorin ground out in a low voice, trying to draw attention away from Kíli.
Lord Elrond nodded and turned gracefully with a lingering look to Kíli. The dwarves began to follow him, but Kíli seemed to wait to walk at the back, and Fíli made sure to stay close to him. They walked through the halls of Rivendell until the elven lord paused.
"If you would wait here a moment…" Elrond bowed his head and Thorin returned the gesture.
"So you speak elvish." Fíli said quietly to Kíli as the elf walked away.
"I do." Kíli replied, staring Fíli in the eye, and the other dwarves turned around.
"You taught the boy elvish while he had no knowledge of his own tongue?" Dwalin growled at Bilbo, and instantly Kíli's eyes flashed dangerously.
"I asked to learn. Bilbo knows Sindarin, and I wanted to know too. When I arrived in the Shire I hated elves, but I had no idea why. Then I was judged as a threat because I was a dwarf child, and I swore that I would never judge another solely by their race, and I saw no reason why I should not learn elvish. It was not as though the Shire is full of Khuzdul grammar books – Sindarin literature is a lot easier to find. I am sorry if that offends you." Kíli managed to maintain a steely tone throughout, but Fíli thought that he could detect a quiver in Kíli's nervous eyes.
Fíli told his brother that he could not care less about his speaking elvish and that it made no difference to him, but he did not use that many words. Instead, he just clamped a hand on Kíli's arm and grinned at him. "Fair enough."
The grateful smile Kíli returned to him told Fíli that his words had got through, and he nodded slightly.
Thorin looked as though he wanted to say something, but at that moment the elves returned and the company returned to suspicious silence.
They were led through a beautiful courtyard to a table set full of various salads, and as they passed, Elrond looked at Kíli curiously.
Kíli averted his gaze from the elven lord's face, uncomfortable with the scrutinising gaze, but he quickly looked up when Lord Elrond addressed him in elvish.
"Your kinsmen seemed surprised when you showed understanding of Sindarin, Master Dwarf."
"They did not know that I spoke it, my Lord." Kíli replied, the dwarves' obvious discomfort "I was raised in the Shire, by Bilbo Baggins."
Elrond looked surprised. "Indeed… I took you for Thorin's heir."
"I am, after my brother. He is my uncle." Kíli replied, thoroughly shocked at Elrond's guess. "Why did you take me for his heir?"
The elf smiled gracefully. "Your resemblance to Thorin is strong… Why was a dwarven prince raised in the Shire, may I ask?"
"When I was a child I fell into a river and woke up in the Shire with no memories. My family thought me dead and Bilbo raised me as his own. It was he who taught me elvish." Kíli summarised uncomfortably.
Elrond inclined his head. "That sounds like an interesting story."
Kíli shrugged. "There's not much else to tell."
"Indeed…" Elrond did not look convinced, but he nodded anyway. "I intend to offer your uncle a place at my own table, along with Mithrandir. Would you care to join us?"
"Oh, no thank you!" Kíli shook his head, and took a small step backwards, unwilling to stand out even further. "I appreciate your offer, my lord, but no thank you."
Elrond bowed his head and turned to Thorin, and Kíli turned his face to the floor.
"That was unexpected." Fíli said in a low voice, but Kíli could hear the warmth in his tone beneath the confusion and he gave a little smile.
"What did he say to you?" Thorin asked Kíli gruffly as he passed.
Well aware that Elrond could hear no matter how quietly they spoke, Kíli looked Thorin dead in the eye. "He asked me how I came to speak elvish."
"I see…" Thorin fixed Kíli in a piercing stare and followed Elrond to the high table.
So his nephew spoke elvish. That was an interesting development. The politician within Thorin negotiated that it could come in handy, having a linguist amongst them, but the uncle overtook the sense with a burning rage.
Kíli knew more elvish than he did Khuzdul.
It was not right that a child of Durin should know more of the language of the 'fair' folk that had betrayed his kin over and over again, and the fury blamed Bilbo Baggins. Sense fought in the hobbit's favour, arguing that if Kíli had wanted to learn Master Baggins had no reason to deny him, but sense was not a thing that stayed long in Thorin's head when he was angry.
But if Thorin rounded on Bilbo Baggins, he would incur the wrath of his nephew, and that was the last thing that he wanted.
So instead he went and sat with Gandalf at the high table, nodding politely and wishing that he could be teaching Kíli Khuzdul instead.
To Fíli's relief down at the lower table, the others had the tact – or the hunger – to put aside Kíli's surprising skill to make way for complaints about the food.
"Where's the meat?" Dwalin questioned, looking more agitated by the moment.
"You don't think you could do anything with that impressive tongue of yours, do you laddie?" Bofur teased Kíli lightly, digging him in the ribs. Fíli appreciated the miner's simple show of support for his brother, and he gave him a quick smile to show it.
Kíli laughed, but then turned around and spoke some of the silvery tongue very politely to one of the stewards, who looked very surprised and mildly impressed, before going over to speak to Lord Elrond.
Bofur, who clearly had not expected Kíli to do anything about his light-hearted comment, raised his eyebrows. "And just what did you tell him?"
"I'll tell you if it works." Kíli winked playfully, and the friendly dwarf laughed.
"That's fair enough."
To Fíli's amazement, stewards began bringing meat and potatoes to the table not ten minutes later.
Kíli smiled angelically as the first steward placed a plate of fish in front of Bilbo and Balin. "Thank you."
"You are most welcome, Master Dwarf." The steward replied with a bow, before leaving the table.
"Alright, what did you say?" Bofur rounded on Kíli who laughed again.
"I told him that the vegetables were perfect and that I had not tasted cabbage so good in all my life, but asked him politely if it would be at all possible for the company to have any meat. I said not to worry if it would be inconvenient."
"Just like that?" Bofur blinked, and Kíli grinned.
"Just like that."
"It's called manners." Bilbo teased Bofur. "There're quite important in the Shire."
"Sounds like a dreadful place!" Bofur gave a mock shudder.
The mood greatly improved at the lower table from that moment on, and Fíli noted happily that not even Glóin, Óin or Dwalin seemed to remain bothered by Kíli's lack of hatred for the elves.
That did not, however, stop them from sitting Kíli down after the meal and giving him a long speech about all of the reasons why elves were not to be trusted.
Throughout the entire two hours Kíli remained still and attentive, his face as blank as stone, and he offered no protest until the end.
"I understand. There are elves who are greedy, treacherous, no good, boastful, stuck-up, rotten fools." Kíli nodded to emphasise his point. "I understand all of those wrongs, and those responsible should be held accountable for their reactions. But I stand by the fact that not all elves are like that – the description could just as easily describe the Sackville-Bagginses, or some of the few men I have met. And I would be willing to bet anything that it would fit some dwarves, as well. I won't judge an individual on the crimes of their race. The elves here have been hospitable to us – they did not need to give us free shelter and food, but they did. I see no reason to hate them. Distrust them maybe, at a push, but hate them…no."
Dwalin narrowed his eyes at Kíli, who returned the stare unflinching. Fíli smiled as the warrior grinned and clapped Kíli on the shoulder.
"That was a point well made, lad. I'm not saying I agree with you, not by a long way, but you stuck to your opinion well. You're as stubborn as your uncle."
"That's a compliment." Fíli added in a stage whisper, and the surrounding dwarves laughed.
Kíli smiled and gave Dwalin a look. "Do you think you could agree to disagree with me?"
Dwalin raised an eyebrow. "Aye…I think I could do that."
Mildly amazed, Fíli smiled and stood up. He needed to stretch his legs, and finding a bathroom might not have been a bad idea, either. Though he had nothing on Kíli, Fíli was fairly sneaky for a dwarf, so slipping unnoticed out of the room was easy enough.
"Fíli? I didn't see you at dinner."
Fíli sniffed and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "That's because I wasn't there, Ama."
Dís smiled sadly. "Fíli, you have to eat."
"I can't!" Fíli protested weakly. "I can't!"
"You can… Kíli wouldn't want-"
"That's what everyone says, but I know Kíli more than they do! He's my brother; mine and I know what he would want!"
"And you truly believe that he would want you to waste away?" Dís asked seriously.
"No…" Fíli managed to hold himself together for about a second before collapsing into his mother's ready arms. "I want him back, Ama, I want Kíli back!"
"Oh I know, Khuzdith, I know…I do too, more than anything…" Dís murmured, rocking him backward and forward.
When the episode of tears eventually came to a close, Dís carried him downstairs and watched him eat a bowl of chicken broth. Mindless of the adults taking in the living room, Fíli walked past them to sit on the window ledge, pulling the curtains behind him. He knew they had not seen him.
There's Kíli's favourite place to run… he thought as he stared outside…there's the spot where I taught him to catch…
Dwalin's voice snapped him out of his reverie. "How is he, Dís?"
"I wish I could say that he was coping but…"
A strange sound met Fíli's ears and he heard a chair scraping back.
"Hey, hey, lass…" Dwalin murmured.
His mother's voice was muffled when it next spoke. "I'm sorry…"
"You have no reason to be." Dwalin insisted, and Fíli peeked through the tiny gap between the curtain and the wall. His mother's face was buried in Dwalin's shoulder and she was sobbing.
Sobbing.
"It's bad enough without…it's bad enough losing…I'm going to lose Fíli too, Dwalin, I know it! They were so close, and he…" Dís wept. "He's all but a ghost already."
"You're not going to lose Fíli…"
"How do you know?" Dís moaned.
"Because that child is one of the strongest lads I know, and he won't leave you alone in this hell, Dís."
Fíli swallowed and nodded.
That night, however, Fíli had a dream. He dreamt that he was a ghost, and that Kíli was too, and in his dream he talked to Kíli and Kíli was happy and fine and being looked after by Uncle Frerin.
When he woke up, a small part of Fíli clung to the dream. He ate, he talked and he did all of his chores. He hugged his mother and his uncle as much as he could and he poured his heart and soul into his lessons to divert the pain for a while.
However, as soon as he got a few moments to himself, Fíli would practise being a ghost. A large part of him knew that it was childish nonsense but Fíli practised walking as silent as the grave and slipping in and out of rooms unnoticed. If he was a ghost, he could talk to dead people. If he was a ghost, he could talk to Kíli.
If he was a ghost, he would never get lost.
Fíli stopped short, blinking out of his memories. "Oh, by Durin's Beard…"
He was lost.
Clearly, he had walked much further than he had intended to while immersed in his daydream, and he had absolutely no idea if he was even allowed to be in this part of Rivendell. By now, his bladder was most definitely making itself known.
"You seem lost."
Fíli whirled around at the low female voice and almost gaped. The elf woman before him was one of the most beautiful non-dwarven beings he had ever seen, with long curling blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that were both warm and icy at the same time. She held herself with impossible grace, her long white dress dusting the floor around her ankles. Her beauty and poise gave her an ethereal quality that Fíli could not help but admire.
Remembering his etiquette, Fíli bowed deeply.
"I am, My Lady."
"You will find the room you seek on the third door to your right." She smiled gently, as though sharing a private joke with the slightly humiliated dwarf.
"Thank you, My Lady." Fíli bowed again, feeling very uncomfortable.
The she-elf's smile widened and she bowed her head. "Until next we meet, Fíli son of Dís."
With that, she slipped away into the dark so gracefully and quickly that for a moment Fíli wondered if she had even existed. Shaking his head slightly, he walked three doors down and peered into the room on his right. His eyes widened at the sight of the empty bathroom.
How on earth had the she-elf known what room he was looking for? The thought of it made him uncomfortable.
How had she known his name, come to think of it? Was she a sorceress? A witch?
Upon leaving the bathroom, Fíli realised that he was still lost. Turning back to the way he thought he had probably come from, he started to meander through the labyrinth of corridors until he reached an open courtyard.
To his right, a set of stairs curved up the wall to a mural that caught Fíli's attention. Contrasting to the gentile decorations of the rest of the place, it appeared to be depicting a battle. Ignoring the strong feeling that he should not be there, Fíli climbed the staircase to stare at the painting.
A man stood facing a monster, a broken sword his only weapon against his armour clad foe.
Fíli frowned in concentration until the particular history lesson swam back into his head.
"Isildur…" he murmured aloud, staring up at the dark helmet of Sauron. Wondering why the elves would have a single painting of an ancient war, Fíli turned. "Oh…"
A statue stood behind him, an elf maid with outstretched palms daring the admirer to stare at the object rested on her lap. A broken blade.
Fíli took a step closer. The pedestal was barely at his eye level and a step closer was all he took, but there was something breath-taking about being so close to a relic that had changed the world so drastically.
"Master Fíli…"
Fíli jumped and looked around. Lord Elrond stood at the bottom of the staircase, an amused expression on his face.
"I was informed that you had lost your way, but that you were causing no trouble." The elf began to climb the stairs as he finished speaking.
Fíli inclined his head, unsure of exactly what to say. "This sword… It belonged to Isildur's father, Elendil, did it not? It cut the ring from the hand of Sauron?"
Elrond paused. "It did indeed. Few people know now the story of the One Ring…"
"I had very good tutors." Fíli answered evenly.
The elf Lord nodded. "Indeed you must have had. That sword will remain there until the heir of Isildur returns to take his place as Gondor's rightful king."
Nodding absently, Fíli stared at the sword a moment longer.
"Shall we return to your kin, Master Fíli?" Lord Elrond asked easily, and Fíli nodded.
"Of course, my apologies."
"Do not apologise." Elrond smiled. "Whether your wanderings are due to curiosity or pure misfortune, you are most welcome to wander in Rivendell. It is my belief that your company shall linger here until the Midsummer's Eve at this week's end."
"Thank you." Fíli nodded awkwardly, following the elf down the stairs as he tried desperately not to feel like the small boy that would be brought home by a scolding adult from the latest escapade he had shared with his brother.
In an apparent effort to lessen the tension, Lord Elrond turned to Fíli. "Your brother has some interesting opinions on bigotry and xenophobia."
Fíli let out a little laugh. "He does…"
"He seems rather wise for his years." Lord Elrond gave Fíli a sideways look.
Fíli gave a reserved nod, smiling a little proudly. "He always has been."
"Indeed…" the elf lord nodded with a wry smile. "Here we are, Master Fíli. Your kin are just in that room."
Fíli nodded. "Thank you, Lord Elrond."
The elf bowed and Fíli slipped back into the room.
"Where have you been, lad?" Glóin asked with a raised eyebrow and Fíli smiled sheepishly.
"I got a little lost." He looked to the corner of the room, where Kíli and Thorin were having their daily Khuzdul lesson.
Thorin looked up for a moment and signalled to Balin, who took Fíli to the side.
"We took the map to Lord Elrond, against my better judgement." Fíli's tutor explained. "As it turns out, there are moon runes on the map that can only be read by a crescent moon and we have little choice but to linger here until Midsummer's Eve."
"I see…" Fíli mused. That did explain Elrond's words. "Where is Gandalf?"
Balin shook his head. "I don't know, laddie."
"He's talking with a she-elf, down the hall." Nori interrupted, stowing something that looked mysteriously like a candlestick into his nearby bag. "I saw 'em from the back. They sounded serious, but I didn't understand anything they said."
Fíli nodded and made his way to his own bedding roll. It had been a long day, a very long day, and he wanted nothing more than to sleep for a very, very long time.
He lay down and closed his eyes, and wearily succumbed to sleep.
So, a wee bit of tension in the company there, maybe?
I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I wonder who Fíli and Gandalf were talking to ;)
See you soon!
