Disclaimer: The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings and all characters therein are the property of the Tolkien Estate and Wingnut Films. This story is for entertainment only and the author is in no way profiting from it, nor exercising any claims to The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings.
13. Mellon
Kíli woke slowly to the pounding in his head and the ache of limbs that had lain too long in one position. He groaned, unwilling to open his eyes even as he fought to move a protesting body around to another, more comfortable sleeping place. Hands aided him to turn onto his side, straightening an uncooperative leg and untangling blankets. How many times in the long night and early morning had he come to the edge of wakefulness like this? Would the torment never end? He did not wish to discuss what had happened, did not want the opinion of every friend and relation here! Whomever was at his side this time, however, did not speak or prod at him, so he was certain it must be Fíli. He was about to mumble a thank you to his brother when a decidedly feminine voice answered someone farther away.
"I do not know. Fíli said only that he must attend to something for Thorin and that he would return as soon as possible."
Kili's eyes flew open only to slam shut again as the light burned, making everything dance crazily in and out of focus. The hands on him stopped the gentle soothing circles they had been rubbing on his back, and he groaned again, wishing she would resume but unable to muster the energy to say as much.
"Kíli?"
"Hmmm?"
He did not dare to open his mouth as his stomach threatened to rebel. More hands were on him, lifting and turning him so that he was partially upright against what felt like several packs.
"Kíli," It was another vaguely familiar voice, but he could not think through the pounding of his head. "I want you to sip slowly. It will aid in settling your stomach and dulling the pain."
That sounded good. Obediently, he opened his mouth to allow the liquid to be tipped into it, the flavor of rich peppermint masking other, less tasty herbs. Initially, he feared what the peppermint might do to an already rocky stomach, but it almost instantly settled and he sighed, relaxing as his body unknotted muscles that had been tensed. Cautiously, he cracked open his eyes, gazing around as the light now appeared tolerable.
There was a man crouched on his left, watching him with the assessing gaze of a healer. Wyvern! Kili's memory kicked up the name, though the man certainly did not look like the young lad he remembered from fourteen years ago. Unwilling to tackle that problem, he allowed his head to loll to the right, breath catching at the sight of auburn hair and delicate features that belied the strength residing in the elf maiden.
"Tauriel?"
The perpetually young elf ducked her head, smile a bit strained. Kíli closed his eyes again as the pain in his head throbbed with each breath, mind instantly supplying images of her grief at the lives lost in Bolg's attack upon Thranduil's halls. Glancing back at her, he could not help the shame and hurt that showed in his eyes, though she obviously misunderstood, making as if to rise.
"Fíli asked that I stay with you while he was busy, but I can find another-"
"No!" The word exploded from him before he could censure himself and he winced. "I mean- I understand why you would not wish to be around me."
One elegant eyebrow raised in mystification.
"I do not understand. It is I who was unable to attend your wedding and avoided speaking with you here. These are not the actions worthy one you would call friend, but those of a coward. I confess that I feared to face you."
"I - I didn't- Legolas told me Thranduil wouldn't-"
He broke off, growling in frustration at his inability to put together an articulate sentence. This stammering and blushing was a far way from the brash young dwarf who challenged her to find out what was down his pants! Thankfully, Fíli was not around to hear such floundering or he would never stop the teasing! This was definitely not like him, but the concussion combined with a lingering embarrassment over a youthful infatuation did not lend itself to coherency. He wanted only for her to leave him alone in his present misery, for she should not bear the guilt. Perhaps that was why he blurted what he did next.
"I am not deserving of friendship when it was I whose stupid, drunken words brought the orcs down upon us all!"
Horrified at allowing to slip the mistake that had been haunting him for so long, he gagged, coughing at the bile in his throat before leaning into the supporting hands to throw up the herbs he had just been given. His hands clenched at his hair, pulling as his skull throbbed, spikes of pain that came with every spasm of his stomach adding to his torment. He could hear a soft discussion between the other two and felt Tauriel begin to rise from her seat next to him. Panicked, he willed his body to move, grabbing her wrist in a lunge that brought cries of alarm from both of them.
"Kíli! You should not-"
"Please!" He squeezed it out with his eyes closed, body trembling. "Please do not tell anyone!"
A hand gently removed his, easing him back down.
"Rest, Prince Kíli. I will not betray your secret."
There was something in her voice... Doubt? Anger? He could not decide, nor care, as Wyvern began to poke and prod, asking him distractingly simple questions that he occasionally fumbled anyway. At last allowed to slide into renewed slumber, his dreams haunted by that one long-ago moment that he was so desperate to forget.
Ered Luin, Third Age 2941
Kíli raised his head to glance blurrily around the busy tavern as he slammed his empty ale flagon back onto the table. This was one of the outer areas of the dwarrow city nestled in the ruins of Belegost, so there were even a few men around. Unfortunately, there were not any of the others who had signed up to go with his uncle, not even the ever cheery and rarely sober Bofur, so Kíli had been drowning his nerves with precious little to distract him until the place became too full for him to continue enjoying a private table.
Across from him, the other dwarf, a stranger, gave a satisfied belch and wiped his streaming mouth and beard on a dirty, travel-worn sleeve as Kíli regarded him thoughtfully. As the son of Princess Dis, there were not many of the exile community in Ered Luin unknown to him now, which made his current drinking companion much more engaging then rehashing worries about the morning.
"You're not from around here, are you?"
The other dwarf snorted, sending a bit of foam flying over the rough pine table as he refilled his cup from the pitcher a server had just left.
"Nope. Can't say as I ever wish to come back, either. No offense lad. Dwarrow weren't meant for tumbling down ruins and played out mines! That king of yours needs to sharpen his ax, find a few good strong lads, and smack that overgrown lizard in Erebor right on the nose! That's how we'd deal with it in the East!"
The dwarf laughed raucously, slapping his knee and jostling the table hard enough to splash ale out of the flagons. Suddenly, he sobered, making a show of glancing around before waggling a finger sloppily in Kili's face. Normally, such a move would have had the fiery young prince grabbing it in anger, but the ale had mellowed his emotions to a pleasant buzz of unconcern.
"Now, don't you go telling everyone that I'm from the east, mind. You westerners are too prickly and suspicious for a poor merchant who don't mean no harm." His eyes crinkled into a grin as he swayed a bit. "'Less you have a few pretty 'dams around here with long beards who'd like a taste of eastern meat! Now, young lad, I've shared my secret, how about yours? Fair trade, after all!"
Kíli leaned forward, the words of his uncle ghosting through his mind.
'Remember, both of you, no one must know of this beyond your mother and the company! No one!'
He snorted to himself, taking another long draught of ale. Like no one would notice Thorin Oakenshield, his nephews, and four prominent cousins all gone at the same time! Granted, Dwalin had been gone for six months already, Balin for one, and Thorin left a week ago, but still- What was the harm? The brunette leaned forward.
"Aye, I'll tell you a secret! You easterners aren't the only ones who know how to deal with a dragon! Soon, we'll be having this conversation in Erebor, just you wait and see!" It was then that Kili's sense of caution, so often absent, kicked in and he tried for a casual shrug. "'Course, that has nothing to do with me! I'm off on another turn at caravan duty. Boring, really, that. All that mud, dust, and stupid men!"
A hand landed heavily on his shoulder, squeezing just short of the point of pain as an arm hooked under his, hoisting him up out of the seat.
"That's right, little brother, and if we're to be up to leaving with the caravan in the morning, we'd best go home and sleep!"
Fíli's cheerful grin was entirely false and Kíli knew he was in for a lecture when they got home. His older brother had told him not to go out, refused to go with him, and now might have witnessed him disobeying their uncle's strict orders! Guiltily, Kíli cast a glance back at the dwarf he had been drinking with just in time to see him straighten and mutter to himself with none of the drunken slurring that had been there moments ago.
"Of course you need your rest, young prince, but there are no merchant trains leaving for at least a week."
"Kíli?"
Blinking, he turned his aching head to the side to find Senata watching him worriedly. In all the years after that night, Fíli had never said anything about overhearing what he had actually been telling his drinking companion, nor had they seen the mystery dwarf again. That did not ease Kili's conscience, however, and he had vowed never to drink so much again, stopping when he felt only a pleasant buzz instead. Given his normally boisterous façade, he doubted anyone but Fíli, and possibly Thorin, had noticed. A rustle of clothing on his other side alerted him to the return of Wyvern, bearing a steaming cup, this time smelling strongly of chicken. He was about to refuse, recalling the unfortunate return of the last thing he had tried drinking, when his stomach gave a low rumble.
"I think this may aid with that. I mixed some valerian root in, as well."
Kíli scowled at the man, having become all too familiar with the uses of that particular root over the last fourteen years, though he took the cup and began sipping at it.
"Just woke up."
He grumbled into it, gasping as the words made some of the hot broth splash up onto his upper lip. Truthfully, he was not adverse to sleeping the day away as it would allow him to avoid any more awkward moments with a certain elf, but he was not about to go around admitting it! Senata huffed in a manner so reminiscent of Óin that the prince could not stop a slightly nostalgic grin, earning an eye roll from the healer. It felt good to break his self-imposed silence, though there was still a little darting worm of guilt, as well.
"You could do with some more, and do not think those pleading eyes will do you any good, my lord prince! If you behave, I just might let you sit up and talk with the others tonight, but not a minute before!"
"Fine."
His bitter answer was accompanied by a most unprincely tongue stuck out at the offending dwarrowdam. With his own young son and nephew several hundred miles away, he saw no need to belabor appropriate adult behavior when he was being treated like an erring child! Kíli quickly finished the mug, grimacing at the familiar slightly loopy feel of the valerian root before acceding to Wyvern's urging and lying back down to sleep.