Chapter X

Kíli awoke with a smile on his face. His sheets were tangled around his legs and when he tried to stretch, he found that he could hardly move. But he was happy—incredibly so. At least until reality caught up with him and he remembered that his happiness had merely been brought about by a dream.

He struggled to sit up, further entangling himself in the linen on his bed in the process. He growled in frustration and tugged on one of the sheets a little too harshly, accidentally ripping a long tear down the middle of it. He stilled in his movements, perplexed, and looked down at the two pieces of cloth lying in his lap so sadly as if it were his own heart that had been torn into two. An in a way, it had.

Had he not suffered enough already? Did losing his heart to someone so far out of his reach not suffice? Apparently not, since his bloody mind had to go and torment him with illusions of his love, so real and so tangible that he could still feel her lips on his, her skin beneath his fingertips, her quickened breath in his ear. This was not fair.

Kíli sighed, slumping his shoulders. Maybe he should not be complaining. Dreaming his life with Tauriel might not be the same thing as living his dream together with her, but, all things considered, this was better than nothing at all.

He had to give it to his imagination—that really had been quite a nice illusion. He smiled a wistful smile. Tauriel's pale skin under the light of the stars, her taste on his tongue, her gentle voice whispering sweet, Elvish nonsense into his ear…

He paused at that thought. He did not speak Elvish, except for a handful of mostly useless (and rather offensive) words. So where had those words she had whispered so sweetly in his ear come from? Had it just been gibberish made up by his imagination? It had certainly sounded like genuine Elvish…

He rubbed a hand over his forehead, trying to rid his brain of such silly thoughts. It had been a dream and everything in it had been a construct of his own subconscious. Still, he reached for a piece of parchment on his nightstand and scribbled down the words Tauriel had said to him in his dream as accurately as he could manage without proper knowledge of the language. Couldn't hurt, could it? Maybe he'd have an opportunity to look into a possible meaning behind those words later.

As Kíli shifted on his bed to put ink and paper back onto his nightstand, something pressed into his thigh beneath the sheets. Frowning, he dug around under the blankets until his hand closed around a small object with a cool, smooth surface.

He pulled out his hand and looked at the object resting on his palm. It was his runestone.

No. He shook his head. Not his runestone. This had to be a coincidence, a token left behind by his ancestors who had resided in these halls long before he had.

He brought the stone closer to his face, examining it from every angle, running his thumb over every dent, every ridge carved into it.

Kíli swallowed against a lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. It was his stone. Not only were the same words carved into it—every other detail was the same as well. On their journey he had spent so many hours looking at the stone, touching it, tracing its carvings that he would recognize it amongst hundreds of similar stones.

He dropped his hand into his lap, looking around his room in confusion. Had someone sneaked in at night and put it in his bed? No, that was as impossible as it was unlikely. He had given the stone to Tauriel and she was in Mirkwood.

He looked back down at the stone, his eyes skimming the runes carved into it. Return to me. He bit his lip. What was the meaning of all this? Tauriel had returned to him in his dream—had the stone returned to him in real life? Was it… was it possible that, at least for a short time, some sort of magical connection had been established between himself and Tauriel that went beyond the grasp of rational understanding?

And, if any of this was true, had she seen what he had, experienced what he had felt? Had she been there with him, in this mystical place beneath the stars and the moon?

Kíli could feel color rising in his cheeks. It was one thing to have that kind of dream about her, but a wholly different matter to imagine that what had transpired between them had been real—on some level.

He licked his lips that suddenly felt very dry and glanced at the piece of parchment that he had just put away. The words on it did not make any sense to him, but maybe finding out what they meant—if they meant anything at all—might be the clue to solving this whole mystery.

And what if the words did make sense? What if they told him that this had not just been an ordinary dream? Well, he would simply have to wait it out and cross that bridge when he got to it.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door to his room banged open and his brother waltzed in, smiling cheerfully.

Quickly, Kíli hid both the stone and his scribbles under one of his pillows.

Fíli marched over to the single window in the room and pulled the curtains wide open, whistling a happy tune in the process.

"Good morning," he said as he turned around to his younger brother, grinning broadly. His face fell as he took in Kíli's—admittedly—rather disheveled appearance and the perplexed look on his face.

Quickly, he crossed over to Kíli's bed and looked at him intently. "Are you alright, brother? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Kíli tried his best to brush him off, saying, "Nah, I'm fine. Just had a funny dream, 's all."

Fíli glanced at the torn sheet still spread across Kíli's lap and laughed. "Yeees… no, I don't even want to hear it." After wriggling his eyebrows suggestively, he added, "Come on, get dressed. I thought we could do some sparring after breakfast. Seems like you've done your fair share of sitting around, doing nothing, haven't you?"

Kíli rolled his eyes at his brother. He was not really in the mood for their usual banter. What he really wanted to do was find a way to solve the mystery of what had happened to him that night while he had slept. Surely there had to be a library of some sorts here at Erebor. If he wanted to look into the words Tauriel had said to him in his dream, that was where he would have to start. But he knew that if he came right out and told Fíli that he would rather sit down with a pile of books than practice his swordsmanship, he would probably be suspected of running another fever and be put back into bed.

So, slowly and a little reluctantly, Kíli started gathering his belongings and got dressed for breakfast while Fíli was waiting for him by the door, obviously determined to draw him out of his pensive mood.

"We've had word from the dwarves of the Iron Hills," Fíli filled him in on their way to the dining hall. "They have heard the news and are on their way here. Looks like the halls of Erebor will soon be populated with our kind once more."

Kíli mustered a smile. "That is good news, right?"

Fíli shrugged. "I believe it is. Thorin and Dáin might have some differences to settle amongst themselves, however. But I suppose that now that Erebor has been reclaimed and the Arkenstone is in our hands once more, this should all go smoothly."

"It probably should," Kíli agreed. He hesitated briefly. There was something he wanted to ask his brother, but was not sure whether it would be a good idea to bring it up. Then he reprimanded himself for thinking along those lines. This was Fíli—his brother, with whom he had shared everything for as long as he could remember. His brother, who had offered to carry him to Erebor rather than leave him behind. Whom could he still trust, if not him?

"The Arkenstone," he thus began haltingly. "How do you feel about that?"

Fíli glanced at him, visibly taken aback by the question. "What do you mean?"

Kíli weighed his words for a moment. "I mean, do you think that it is such a good thing that Thorin has it now? Somehow, I cannot help but feel that maybe it isn't wise to grant so much importance, so much influence, to that… that thing."

Fíli frowned. "Well... I've never looked at it that way. It's just a stone, I suppose. A very impressive one, but just a stone after all. A symbol for the authority of the King under the Mountain. It is Thorin who rules as king, not the stone."

Kíli considered his brother's words for a moment. "I'm not so sure of that. I've been wondering if the stone might not have some sort of power over the one who holds it—a power that is not just a symbolic one. I… I just don't want Thorin to change, that's all." Kíli thought back to his conversation with his uncle two days before and shivered when he remembered the look in Thorin's eyes as he had positioned himself between Kíli and the stone, shielding it from him.

But Fíli smiled at him reassuringly. "If there one thing I am sure of, then it is that Thorin will be a great king. The greatest that there ever was. He is much stronger than all of us—with the stone or without it."

"I hope you are right, brother," Kíli replied, yet could not quite manage to shake off the feeling of impending doom that had taken hold of him lately.

Fíli nudged him with his shoulder. "Cheer up, Kee. When did you become so broody? It's time to focus on the nice things in life again. We're at Erebor. We have food, we have ale, and soon—" he winked "—soon there will be lots of pretty dwarf-maids to chase through the hallways."

Kíli looked away sadly, unable to picture himself chasing after dwarf-girls any time soon. How could he, when all he saw whenever he closed his eyes was her? Her long red hair, her keen eyes, her delicate, pale skin, speckled with oh so many tiny freckles.

Fíli heaved a heavy sigh at the lack of enthusiasm that Kíli showed at his suggestions. He took hold of his elbow and forced him to stop and turn towards him. When he spoke, his tone was more serious than most of the time and full of concern for his little brother. "Kíli, listen, you need to stop torturing yourself like this. I pretend not to see, but I cannot bear to watch you go on like this. There is no future for you with her, you need to accept this and move on."

Kíli looked up into his brother's eyes, surprised that he would address this topic. They had never openly discussed it before, after all. Clearly determined to state his point, Fíli continued. "Look, I know that the last few days were really difficult for you and I understand that in such extreme circumstances the heart can get confused and things might easily be over-interpreted. You think yourself in love, but trust me, once you look at this from a certain distance you will be able to laugh at the improbability of it all. But to do so you need to let it go—let her go."

Kíli shook his head, not only because he violently disagreed with his brother's judgment of his feelings, but also because he was completely unwilling to follow his advice. Especially after last night, simply forgetting about Tauriel and what they had with each other was out of the question. Well, at least now he knew what the general perspective on his situation was and that it would be pointless to ask for any help in solving the mystery of his nocturnal adventure.

He forced himself to laugh, shaking off his brother's hand on his arm. "I don't know what you're talking about, Fíli," he said, trying for cheerfulness when on the inside he felt like crying. "I think I just didn't have a proper meal in way too long. I'm not sad, I'm just so bloody hungry. Whoever gets to the dining hall first, gets the bigger plate!"

And with that he rushed off down the corridor, leaving his brother to stare after him perplexedly, but no less worried than before.

After a breakfast during which Kíli tried his best to keep up a cheerful conversation with the other dwarves at the table in order to not give Fíli a chance to resume their previous discussion, the two brothers set off towards their respective quarters to collect their weapons.

As he walked along the never-ending corridors of Erebor, Kíli felt sick to his stomach. Contrary to his earlier assertion, he had not felt hungry at all. All the food on his plate had tasted bland once he put it in his mouth, and it had been quite a struggle to chew and swallow it all and maintain a cheerful air. But for the sake of keeping up appearances he had eaten it all, feeling Fíli's eyes on him all the time.

While it pained him to shut out his brother like this and hurt to know that not even he who knew him so well was able to take his feeling for Tauriel seriously, the events of this morning had at least hardened Kíli's resolution to keep everything that had transpired between him and Tauriel a secret. From their first intimate conversation in the dungeons of Mirkwood to their dream-like, heated encounter the previous night. Not that that was anybody's business in the first place.

Arriving in his room, Kíli grabbed his sword and some protective armor. On second thought, he also took the piece of parchment with the Elvish words on it out from under his pillow, carefully folded it into a small rectangle and stowed it away in his shirt pocket. He couldn't know whether today an opportunity might open up to look into that matter.

Taking a deep breath to quench the nausea that he still felt, Kíli set off to meet his brother. Maybe a little distraction and physical activity would do him good after all.

"You filthy, stinking—"

The rest of Kíli's curse for his older brother was muffled by Fíli's shoulder pressing into his face, flattening him against the ground and diminishing his chances of wrestling out of Fíli's grasp.

Both dwarf princes were covered in sweat, hair falling into their foreheads in damp strands, their faces flushed from their exertions. Swords and daggers had long been abandoned, as had the bulkier parts of their armor. Now this was down to full-contact wrestling, each brother trying to overpower the other with his bodily strength.

And Fíli was winning, as Kíli had to grudgingly admit. Fíli had always been the better one of the pair when it came to this way of fighting. Even though he knew that it was probably hopeless, Kíli refused to give up yet and tried to pour all his pent-up anger and frustration into his final attempt to push his brother off himself.

He growled in frustration when Fíli barely moved an inch and even had the audacity to laugh at his younger brother's effort to free himself. In an attempt to pin Kíli to the floor completely and thereby end their fight, Fíli wrapped one of his arms around the back of Kíli's right knee and pulled up his leg.

Kíli's angry growl immediately turned into an agonized scream when a sharp pain shot through his leg, radiating outward from the arrow wound that was still healing.

Shocked, Fíli immediately let go of Kíli's leg and scrambled off his brother's body, hurriedly checking for any damage.

"Damn it, Kíli, Forgive me, I wasn't thinking…"

Kíli tried to calm his breathing, waiting for the pain to ebb away. "I'm alright, don't worry," he finally choked out.

Fíli's gaze remained concerned. Only when Kíli sat up and gave his brother a slight smile, did the lines of worry on his forehead smoothen. "I'm fine, Fíli. Really. Relax."

Fíli got to his feet and extended a hand to help his brother up. He chewed on his lip when he saw Kíli wobble slightly once he was on his feet again and then favor his left leg. "I think we had better stop now. You should rest."

Kíli smiled, his mood brightening at the thought that now he might have a chance to go off on his own and try to find a book or something else that would help him with an Elvish translation. "I'll have my revenge for that one, though." He winked at his brother, not wanting him to worry any more than he already did.

Fíli seemed relieved that Kíli was not severely hurt. "I'll pack up here. You go and lie down for a while."

For once Kíli was happy to oblige and made his way to the door of the room they had occupied for their training, careful not to let his limp show too much. His leg did hurt quite a bit after all. Once he had shut the door behind him, he glanced around himself and then set out not for his own room, but in the opposite direction.

Half an hour later, Kíli found himself wondering if there really was such a thing as a library at Erebor. Most of the dwarves he knew—including himself—were not exactly what you would call bookish. Maybe his ancestors had never bothered to compile a collection of books and other writings?

But then he shook his head. No, there were also dwarves such as Balin, who was quite well-read in a number of areas. He could not have gained all that knowledge from oral storytelling amongst his own kin.

When he was almost ready to give up his search for the day, Kíli turned another corner and bumped into another person. It was Bilbo.

Kíli smiled down at the hobbit, suddenly feeling guilty that he hadn't been paying much attention to him ever since their return to Erebor. Gandalf had yet to make an appearance and it seemed as if Bilbo, now that his task had been accomplished, was unsure of how to proceed. With nowhere else to go. he had apparently decided to just remain at Erebor for the time being.

"Mr. Boggins," Kíli said kindly, deliberately mispronouncing Bilbo's name, "what a surprise. Did you lose your way?"

"Oh, not at all," Bilbo responded. "I was just on my way to get second breakfast after returning a book to the library."

Kíli's face brightened. "The library? Excellent! Point me in its direction, would you?"

Bilbo merely gaped at him.

"What?" Kíli asked, pretending to be offended. "I can read, you know."

"O—of course you can. I didn't mean to imply—I—I mean I never would—," Bilbo spluttered. Except for very few members of their company, Bilbo always seemed to be slightly ill at ease around most of them. Well, Kíli couldn't really blame him for that. They had given him a bit of a rough time more than once during their journey. He smiled at the hobbit reassuringly, trying to convey to him that he had done nothing wrong.

Bilbo relaxed a little at that. "Take the next turn to the left, then the second one to the right, and there you'll find it at the end of the hallway. It's quite impressive, really."

Kíli's heart sank at that. Would he be able to find what he was looking for amongst a huge collection of texts? Well, he would just have to try. Giving up now was out of the question.

Thanking Bilbo for his service, Kíli set off down the hallway. The task that lay ahead of him was something he had never really thought he would be confronted with. Well, he thought, there's a first for everything. But he would definitely have preferred to fight another dragon.