Rhavaniel could hear Kili stirring in the back room. She ran down the hall to check on him, and turned up the lamp. "Kili?"
Kili was disoriented. He tried to speak to Rhavaniel, but his throat was parched. She handed him a mug of tea sweetened with honey. That was the last thing he expected, making him wonder if he was having some long and elaborate dream while back at Blue Mountain.
After a few gulps, he was able to speak. "How long have I been asleep?"
"Perhaps eight hours." Rhavaniel said. "It is after dark now. You should try to eat, and then sleep through the night. Do you want to eat here, or in the kitchen?"
Kili was hungry, now that he thought of it, and in much less pain than before. The miruvor had worked remarkably well.
"To the kitchen, since we are being so civilized." he said. He got up and realized he was not dressed.
"Your clothes are on the hooks. I think they are dry by now." Rhavaniel had discreetly turned away.
"Thank you."
Kili noticed the mended shirt. 'She is such a thoughtful girl.'
She had been unfailingly kind to him from the moment they met. He had not expected to find kindness in an Elf. Was she really such a rare thing among her people? Perhaps Elf children are naturally good of heart and they turned harsh to outsiders as they grew older.
He dressed quickly and followed Rhavaniel out of the bedroom.
Kili had barely noticed the kitchen on his way in - barely noticed anything in his weakened state. Rhavaniel had dusted and cleaned, and set the table. There was a pan of warm meat and roots on the table, and a pot of tea on the stove. Bilberries and honey were stewing in a small pot. It looked remarkably like a typical Dwarf kitchen in Blue Mountain, except that the place was colorless and quiet. Dwarves liked to brightly paint and decorate their interiors. This kitchen had faded with time. Back in Blue Mountain where they lived so many to quarters, large central kitchens were sometimes shared by several families, and were always buzzing with activity.
"Honey?" He asked, looking at the lettering on the crock.
"Yes," she smiled, "and it is delicious."
Kili ate heartily. "This is good. It is exactly as my mother would have made it. She would like you very much."
Kili caught himself too late in his words. In Dwarf culture, telling a girl that his mother would like her carried great significance. What possessed him to say such a thing? If Uncle Thorin had heard that, he would have snatched up the hot frying pan and beaten Kili over the head with it. Fortunately, Rhavaniel merely smiled and took it as a simple compliment.
Rhavaniel ate with him, but true to her Elfin nature, ate much less and only the vegetables.
'She is kind-hearted, and pretty.' Kili thought. 'Frighteningly thin, but that can't be helped - she is an Elf, after all. Any Dwarf would like her once they got to know her.'
"There is soap and warm water in a tub by the river." She told him. "In case you want to wash up before going back to sleep. That will give me time to prepare dessert."
"Good idea." Kili said as he finished his plate.
"When you are in the entry way, please see if there are locks on that door. I did not discern any, but perhaps there are other ways to secure it?" Rhavaniel asked.
Kili walked out to the front of the home. These Dwarves must have felt safe, for there was no locking mechanism for this door. Perhaps they thought the camouflage was enough. It wasn't enough for Kili. He found a short piece of iron rod on a bench, and slid it into the level so that no one could open the door from the outside.
He saw that Rhavaniel had industriously broken down and stacked wood for them to burn.
'She certainly kept herself as busy as a Dwarf.' he thought.
It was noticeable colder in the entry way than in the kitchen. He saw the soap, warm water in a copper tub, and sacks emptied out to use as towels. He gratefully washed up as best he could while keeping his bandages dry.
He dressed and returned to the kitchen with the wet towels, and hung them to dry. Rhavaniel had made a pastry of mashed roots, oil and water, then stuffed it with sweetened bilberries and baked it. The result was surprisingly good.
"We have to do something about your hair." Rhavaniel said, and sat beside him on the kitchen bench to comb it out.
"No! I will get it!" Kili protested. That was an activity only family did for each other.
"Except you might tear the seals on you back. You need to stay still a day and night, if possible." she told him.
"You Elves do not respect the bounds of personal space, that is certain." Kili grumbled, still mortified that he woke up undressed.
She did get the knots out quickly, and tied his freshly washed hair back with his one silver clip, the way he liked it.
"Shall I braid it?" She offered.
"No!" Kili insisted, "I won't have you dressing me up like an Elf." he gave her a soft smile though. "But thank you."
"Oh, I had one last thing to ask you before you go back to bed." Rhavaniel pulled out a book. "I found it in one of the bedrooms. I thought you might be able to tell me who owned it, or how old they were?"
Kili was touched that she cared. When he looked at the book, he realized it was a child's primer.
"It is a schoolbook." he told her thoughtfully. "The owner was just a little boy. He wrote his name inside."
"What was his name?"
Rhavaniel did not realize what she was asking. Dwarves rarely shared their spoken language with outsiders, and certainly never shared the written word. Kili had slipped gravely when he pointed out the runes for 'welcome' in Khuzdul. Kili figured that there was no harm in a few words, it seemed wrong to refuse such a small request after all she had done for him this day.
"Alfri. He was fifteen when he wrote that, just starting school." Kili told her. "I should rest. We will want to get moving again in the morning."