Wow...has it really been a month since I've updated? Ah, research papers. They take up all my time, the dreadful things.
Yup. Fili has the ring. And there shall be trauma. Prepare yourselves, my dears. From here on, Durin torture is imminent.
"I what?" I asked, furious. "Kili, you're ill. You're seeing things."
"Not seeing them would seem more likely." he countered defensively.
I rolled my eyes and huffed, "Be silent, nadadith." He generally hated when I called him 'little brother', but perhaps it would shut him up. He had always talked too much, but why now was I finding him so unbearably annoying? It would have been better if he'd listened to me and stayed in Rivendell. He'd be safe, I wouldn't be bothered, and wouldn't have met with such peril.
"Brother…" he trailed. I couldn't see him, but from his voice I could tell that he was on the verge of tears. He'd always been the more vulnerable one of us, but he'd never been this vulnerable. What had the healers done to him?
I let him whimper—though he tried to hide it—as we trudged on in painful silence. In my fury I offered no words of comfort, yet something pulled at my heart. A foreign, uncomfortable feeling that I had not felt since…since I thought he would die. Yes, he was an irritating twit sometimes, but in the end he was still my brother. And I hated myself for having hurt him.
Finally, we reached the end of the mountain pass without any further incident and emerged down the steep slope onto a landscape of rolling, grassy hills. Here we stopped to let the pony graze awhile. As I helped Kili down from the saddle, he groaned and clutched his side.
"Something wrong?" I asked offhandedly. He seemed shocked by my tone. I had already forgotten that last we spoke we were at odds with each other.
"Still healing…a little sore, that's all." he said. "Don't trouble yourself over me."
"Kili…" I sighed, rubbing my forehead with the back of my hand in frustration as I removed the pony's saddle. It was nearing twilight, and I figured there'd be no harm in camping here for the night. We had not yet reached the Eastern lowlands, and I had never heard tell of orcs in this part of Middle-Earth. At least, none in packs. "Kili," I continued. "We cannot continue like this—being angry at each other. If we are to survive this journey, we will need to cooperate."
"Oh, now you want my help?" he sneered. "And what if I refuse to give it?"
"Kili…" I tried to appeal to him. "I not only want your help, I need it. I wouldn't be able to make this journey alone."
"Really?" his glare softened to a look of disbelief.
"Really," I confirmed.
"But I'm wounded. I won't be any help in battle. What about that creature last night? It would have killed me if not for you." He gazed down at his arm, still in a sling, as if to make his point. "I'm useless. I should have died twice already."
"No!" I cried, grasping him by the shoulders and fighting the urge to shake him. "No. You're strong, you lived for a reason. And you'll live yet. We'll make it through this journey, we'll see Erebor restored! Kili, think of that! No more backbreaking work, no more being treated as slaves in the forges…"
"No more dealings with arrogant Men…and elves." he added with a wistful scoff. "Fili…I've been wondering. Why are the dwarves so hated?" He sat down on the ground looking dejected. I began gathering fallen branches from the trees that scattered the ground.
"What do you mean?" I asked, returning with a bundle of kindling.
"I mean…do you remember what happened in Rivendell during dinner that first night? When Bofur got up on that table…"
"And started singing? Of course I remember." I began building the fire and tried to strike a flame. "But you'll have to forgive him, Kili. Bofur…isn't familiar with diplomacy, especially not with elves." I paused. "Wait a minute…is this because of that elf lass?"
"What?" his eyes widened in terror of being found out. "No!"
"The maid playing the harp, yes?" I grinned.
"Forget it, Fili." he groaned, dropping his head to his knees in embarrassment.
"Oh, but I can't!" I crowed, tousling his wild brown hair. "Elder brother's privilege!"
At long last, he raised his head to look at me. Even in the dim firelight I could see that his face burned red with embarrassment. "It's not just the elves…it was traveling Men back in the Blue Mountains too. At the forge…they would come by at all hours demanding their horses be shod right then, and offering minimum payment. Have you not noticed how they treat us? Lower than low…untouchable. And you and me, Fili, and Thorin…we shouldn't even be working in a forge in the first place!" It was not embarrassment, I realized, that reddened his face, but rage.
"But remember what Balin told us? Khuzd tada ma ublûri zuzna, ma furukhî sakh ghelekh." I repeated the old proverb. A dwarf that can't endure the bad will not live to see the good.
"That may be, but I'm tired of how we're treated. It's almost as if…as if we weren't people." There was an edge of pain in his voice that I had never heard before. It was so strange, my usually happy-go-lucky brother voicing concerns such as this. How long had he been hiding them? Or had these just materialized recently, over the course of our journey? Before we'd left, Kili had been thrilled at the prospect of an adventure. He was finally going to fight in a real battle, see places he'd never dreamed of. But now his tone was harsh and bitter and sad. This quest was definitely changing him, and not for the better. I felt as if I were watching him grow up all too rapidly.
Soon after we'd eaten, he was asleep, having curled up against his pack with a blanket pulled up to his chin. He'd slept the same way since he was a child…but he was a child no longer. Long after his soft snores penetrated the silence, I lay awake, gazing up at the stars and pondering his words. It wasn't like him to be so concerned with questions of basic personal rights…but he did have a point. I'd tried to ignore it, but I knew. All my life, though I was by rights a prince, I was treated as inferior by those travelers—Men and elves alike—who crossed our borders. Even Bilbo had treated us as simple savages at first. That's why I was so determined to see Erebor…to finally have a place to settle, to not have to live life on the run…to be respected.
...
I was awakened by a piercing scream of pure terror. Kili sat bolt upright, clutching the blanket that now lay across his lap. His gaze was fixed on something in the distance, his eyes unfocused.
Approaching him warily, I tried to take his hands. But he would not release his grip on the woolen covers and I could see that his hands sweated, either from warmth or fear I could not tell.
"Kili?" I asked carefully. "What is it?" He seemed not to hear me, merely staring into the distance. He mumbled to himself, but I could not make out the words. He seemed to be somewhere else completely. I had heard of this happening, but it usually happened after a battle, to young dwarves who had never before seen war casualty and could not erase the images of death and destruction from their minds. But there had been no battle…why was this happening to Kili?
"So many deaths…" he muttered, fingers toying with the blanket fringe. "So much blood."
"Quick and quiet, no screams. Just a lot of blood." It was what he'd said to frighten Bilbo. So why was he reacting this way? Unless…
"Kili!" I urged him to wake, gripping him by the shoulders and praying he'd make eye contact. "Kili, wake up! Look at me!" I hoped this was just a waking nightmare, because if it wasn't there was no knowing how long he would be affected.
His head snapped towards me, his gaze meeting mine, eyes still wide and shocked. "F—fee?"
"Yes, it's me. It's all right, nadadith. You only had a nightmare."
Nothing could have prepared me for the ferocity with which he embraced me, burying his face into the fur collar of my coat, his fingers digging into the material at my back.
"You...you were there," he gasped between sobs. "You were evil."
"Kili, it was just a dream. Stop this, now."
But I could not get him to stop, and the night was filled with the sound of his wretched, keening wails. My little brother was haunted by something unseen, more than a nightmare but still incomprehensible. My heart ached to see his torment, but though I offered every word comfort I could think of, I was still powerless to stop the fear growing inside him.
Not only was it awful to see his pain, but there was something else that worried me. He had always been so strong, and now he had been reduced to nothing more than a terrified child, needed constant words of comfort and very few troubles. And that would not suit our purposes on this journey…if we were to survive.
Now Kili is traumatized...how will this work out for them?
Not sure whether to keep his condition to nightmares or full-blown PTSD. It could make the story...interesting. And complicated.
Why do I delight in torturing these two so much?
Anyway, reviews appreciated! I've noticed that not only do they feed the Beast, but also occasionally generate plot bunnies, as I've recently learned they're called. The good kind that keep this story going.
Hopefully it won't be another month. Again. Ugh. :P
I need a vacation.
And on that tangent, I leave you to ponder the eventual fate of Fili and Kili.
-S.S.