Kili loved the annual livestock fair. He loved the stalls that didn't just sell livestock and their products. He loved how cheery everyone was. He loved that it seemed to be the one place that he and Ovila didn't immediately lunge for one another's throats. The thought of Ovila did dampen his good spirits, though, because after two years she still wasn't talking to him and he hadn't even been able to meet her gaze in those years. She ignored him well, too well, and he just needed to apologise. He hadn't meant to spill her secret about her being the phantom, because everyone knew how against her fighting Thondi was, but he'd been drunk and it'd blurted out without his permission.
The grin on the young Dwarf's face faded away as the familiar guilt turned his stomach and he was determined to apologise that weekend. He knew Ovila would be at the fair, because the twins were taking care of the butcher's and Thondi hadn't left Belegost in decades. He felt himself nod determinedly and Fili sent him a knowing look that he pointedly ignored. Thorin glanced warningly at his nephews, sensing the discontent stirring in the youngest, and Kili just looked down the street that usually held the meat products. His brown eyes searched for the familiar, worn, sturdy wagon that belonged to Baltil, but it wasn't there and there was no sign of the scruffy, piebald pony that always drew it. Baltil, with his head of silvery grey hair and beard, wasn't there and Ovila, with her dark glare and long blonde hair, wasn't there either.
A bad feeling settled deep in Kili's stomach and his dark brows drew into a v above his nose. Baltil was always there a day early to get the best possible place to set up his sales, but there was a pig farmer in his usual spot. Something was wrong, Kili could feel it and it sent his stomach roiling. Fili and Thorin hadn't seemed to notice anything untoward and he hesitated in speaking up. Perhaps Baltil was just late for once. Perhaps he and Ovila had gotten into an argument on the road and it'd slowed them down. There were a hundred, harmless reasons as to why Baltil and Ovila might not be there yet, but something inside him told him that it wasn't a harmless reason at all. There was something wrong and it scared him.
"Thorin!" Gloin's voice bellowed and the trio stopped and turned to see the red haired and bearded Dwarf practically running to catch up with them through the crowd with Gimli hurrying along after him.
"What is it?" Thorin asked with a sharp frown and the unease in Kili's stomach intensified. "Has something happened?"
"Baltil was attacked on the road by three Wargs," Gloin stated bluntly and Thorin's eyes widened slightly. "He survived, but he's got a shattered arm, many lacerations, and he will most likely have to give up his trade to his two boys," Gloin continued and he glanced at Kili. "There's no sign of his girl."
"Ovila?" Thorin asked, already heading for the exit of Bree, and Gloin nodded, following. "Baltil wouldn't have just left her, no matter what bitter feelings there are between them at the moment."
"He says she tied him to the pony and forced him to leave," Gloin answered. "He spoke the truth; he was bound to the pony when he arrived and he wouldn't have been able to do it himself."
"Where was he attacked? Where did he last see Ovila?" Thorin demanded brusquely and strode into the stables of The Prancing Pony.
"The rock pass where many camp for the night on the way here," Gloin replied quickly and Thorin nodded. "Shall I inform some others to help on the search?"
"Any of ours in the tavern at this moment and any you see passing while we ready the ponies, but we cannot delay rounding a party if Ovila is still alive," Thorin stated firmly and glanced at the younglings as Gloin immediately left to follow orders. "You three will stay here-"
"No," Kili defied before Thorin even finished speaking and all eyes swung to the dark haired stripling. "I'm going to find her," Kili said firmly, ignoring how his stomach turned and his heart pounded and his throat constricted. "She's my…she's my friend."
Thorin eyed his nephew for a long moment. He could see the determination that shone in Kili's eyes and it was so achingly familiar. Even Thorin left him behind, he would follow and Fili would follow him. So, he nodded at his nephews and they hastened to ready their ponies before Thorin changed his mind. Gimli looked at Thorin hopefully, but the elder Dwarf merely turned back to his pony and continued to saddle it. He couldn't have three younglings along, not when there might be a dead girl to deal with, and he shook away that thought. He knew Ovila, the stubborn little girl that'd stood tall in his presence at the mere age of ten and stubbornly hid how scared she was through sheer pride. The thought of her dead, of the round cheeked little girl that used to sit behind her father's butcher's counter and count up her father's orders, unsettled him more than he cared to admit.
Six others joined the party: Bofur, Bifur, Dori, and Nori. Not warriors, but they were armed well enough and Thorin led the party of ten into the fields surrounding Bree. They had a lost, stubborn, pigheaded child to find and Thorin knew Kili wouldn't stop until he had hard evidence of Ovila's death or they found her. If they did find her, she'd be grievously injured, probably near death, and it wasn't a thought any of them wished to linger on.
Breathing hurt, even thinking hurt. The blood had stopped pumping from the long gash down her torso and she could feel it drying down her front, over her waist, her hips. She felt light-headed and sleepy, but she refused to close her eyes and stubbornly stared at the dimming sky on the horizon. She'd seen the sky turn pink for the sunrise, watched it change to a light blue, and now the reds streaked the sky like blood for the sunset. To her left was a heap of dead Warg with an axe buried in its skull and to her right was another dead Warg with its throat slit. By her feet was the final Warg with her second axe sunk deep into its chest and that was the one that'd torn open her chest. The one on her left had dislocated her left arm as she'd killed it and the one on her right had torn open the back of her right leg, but that blood had congealed too and was crusty on her leg.
Ovila, daughter of Baltil and Thondi, could only lay there and pray to Mahal that someone would find her and put an end to this pain. Her fingers twitched feebly towards her father's dropped knife, so close to her head, but the slightest movement sent pain searing up her arm. A weak whimper escaped her cracked lips and she wanted to scream at the tops of her lungs, but she could barely breathe. No one would find her until she was cold and dead and had died a horrible, painful death. She'd never thought about the pain a death from battle would have, had only thought about the glory it would bring her name and how she would be remembered. Now, she would have anyone she ever knew forget her if it meant ending this agony and letting her go into the arms of Mahal. It was strange how little she'd thought about Mahal until these moments before her death and she shuddered slightly, only to moan in pain at the strain it caused in her muscles.
"Ovila!"
Was Mahal calling her now? Was her time at its end?
"Ovila!"
It was getting louder and Ovila's hazel eyes fluttered slightly.
"Ovila!"
Steady thumping trembled the ground beneath her and she just waited for the arms of Mahal to close around her.
"No, no, no, don't be dead, please don't be dead."
The voice was familiar and closer and Ovila felt calloused fingers slide over her cheek to lift her head.
"Ovila? Ovila, open your eyes," the voice begged and Ovila didn't like how sad he sounded. Her head was rested on something warm and soft and firm and she wanted to cry with relief at the respite from the cold, hard rock. "I'm sorry I was so awful to you and I told everyone about you being the phantom," the voice continued, thick and hard to understand with emotion, and Ovila tried to crack her eyes open. "I didn't mean to, I was drunk and, you were right, I am stupid, you were always right, just please don't be dead."
Hazel eyes fluttered open weakly to see so many blurs bearing down on her and, yet, she clearly saw the teary face of the boy holding her head in his lap. "Girl," she managed in a weak croak and stunned brown eyes flew open to stare down at her.
"You're alive," Kili choked and a grin split his face. "You're alive!"
"Barely," Thorin snapped and Kili just watched the elders began to deal with Ovila's extensive injuries. "Foolish child," Thorin chided, but his voice was gentler than it usually was.
"Is Papa-"
"Your father's with the healers, lassie, so let's concentrate on you," Bofur interrupted gently and Ovila managed a weak smile, before her eyes fell closed and she finally sunk into the warmth of the unconscious.
For four days, Ovila slept and, for four days, no one was sure if she would live. There were many scares, especially on the journey to back to Bree, and, yet, after those four days, her eyes fluttered open. Thondi had wept with relief, clinging to her only daughter as tight as she dared, and Calim and Chalrim hadn't hidden their tears either. Baltil was laid on the other bed, sleeping peacefully, and Ovila managed a shaky smile for her family. Thondi just stroked Ovila's blonde hair and tried to stop the tears flowing, but hadn't been able to and Ovila grasped her mother's hand in trembling fingers. She took the water Calim offered and had a small mouthful of the broth Chalrim fetched for her, but fell asleep soon after and didn't wake again until the next afternoon.
Sat in the chair beside Ovila's bed wasn't Thondi or one of her brothers, as she'd expected, but Kili. "I thought you were dead," was the first thing he said, voice hollow, and Ovila just stared at him. "I thought you'd died and I'd never get to apologise."
"You did apologise," Ovila replied in a quiet, hoarse voice and Kili reached for the water, but she shook her head jerkily. "I was awful to you too," she added croakily and frowned slightly. "Get over it."
"What?"
"You're acting like a girl."
"I'm trying to be nice!"
"Well, you suck at it."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Silence fell between the pair and Kili blinked when shaking fingers grabbed his hand. "Thank you," Ovila whispered sincerely and Kili closed his fingers over hers.
"Anytime," he promised and earned a small smile in return, before he watched her eyes fall closed once more and her chest rose and fell in soft, sleepy breaths. "Just try not to do it again," he murmured and carefully laid her bruised, grazed hand back at her side. "Get better soon," he said softly and slid her hair from her face.
A second later, Kili realised what he was doing and froze. Just what was he doing? Bestowing affectionate touches on a girl that's been his enemy since childhood? She was his friend and she probably didn't even call him that. The thought did not make his stomach sink, not at all, and he had to get out of that room, right now. It was seeing the normally strong Ovila vulnerable that was doing it, playing with his head, making him feel…squishy inside. He shook his head quickly and made a hasty escape, just as the twins were climbing the stairs. He ignored their confused voices and sat at the bar with Fili and Thorin to have a nice, big, alcoholic drink to clear his head.
And finished! For such a short chapter, it did give me trouble and not just because my laptop crashed when I was halfway through the original version. I've got to use the family PC now and it's so slow! Okay, rant over now, sorry.
As always, thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, and added this story to their alerts and/or favourites!