II.
He's talking to that Elven guard now – that slender red-haired one who, just hours before, was responsible for saving him from being eaten by a giant spider – and then consecutively imprisoning him.
I didn't know which was more typical of my brother – shamelessly flirting with Elf-maids, or nearly getting eaten by a giant spider.
At first I thought his flirtations were part of an elaborate plan to free us – maybe she was carrying the keys to our cells; maybe she will let her guard down and he'd swipe them from her when she's not looking – and then I remember my brother isn't that clever.
I notice, with growing concern, the way he is looking at her; never taking his eyes off her face, like a lost traveler who had finally found the road home. It's quite obvious he is infatuated, that fool.
If only you could only see the look on your face now, brother.
But I have to admit, it's hard not to look at her – she has fiery-red hair like polished copper, reaching to her knees, which would be highly desirable among Dwarven maids. And I notice, curiously, as she listens carefully as he speaks – she seems to be as fascinated by him as he is by her. I wonder if she would be considered attractive among the Elven-folk.
A movement from the levels above us distracts me, and I glance up to see another one of the Elves from this afternoon - a silver-haired one, with a regal air. Observation tells me he is of some very high rank, possibly a Prince, and he is staring at them both with such a poisonous look of loathing.
Hmm, I think, making the connection. Brother, you may have a rival.
But they are too engrossed in each other to notice him; and at that moment, I can't help but feel a little smug; a little biased. Ah, but we are Princes, too, I think,silently encouraging Kili.
And my brother seems to have made more progress in five minutes than you have in several years, Elf-prince.