Ch.10: Forge Fire
Eily awoke with a stubborn sputter, dirt and grit coating the inside of her mouth. Her hair was knotted to her face with all manner of grime and twigs and her neck had a long red cut across it where the clasp of her cloak had been dragged until finally breaking free.
She groped blindly at her belt for her eyes burned red from irritation. Her knife (remarkably and thankfully) remained, but her axe was gone. Off to parts unknown, but there was little time to mourn its loss.
"Fili," she coughed, "Fili?"
She rubbed her eyes sternly, having no time to let them adjust on their own against the soil and dark. She was lying on her belly in muck and reeds; the rain had stopped. It would seem she had been washed into an oxbow lake by the rapids, and if that were the case it meant that the water level had dropped considerably since the flooding.
By the look of the first quarter moon it had been almost two nights, though her stomach could have told her as much, she could have crippled over from hunger were it not for the fear in her heart.
She pulled herself up, skirts heavy with caked filth, "FILI?" she called, not interested in whatever creature or beast may hear her distress, "FILI?"
But there was no sound. No mockery, no laughter, no chiding, no irritated snort, not even a painful moan.
"Fili?" she whimpered.
Nothing.
The immediate urge for most would have been to collapse into tears, but 'most' as a rule are not typically dwarf women.
"YOU SNOTTY INCOMPETENT PRINCELING," she snarled, "why'd you bother jumping into that river after me when you obviously couldn't even save your own skin? If you can't do a job properly you should know better than to start! Now I'm to chase you down the bank and through the wood?"
She growled and huffed and stomped a strong foot into the muck, "And you made me lose my cloak and my axe which I very much liked!"
Despair and rage often go hand in hand, but Eily often found she was able to let go of rage much faster than sorrow, and she had no use for either at the moment.
Her head momentarily cleared, she set several snares and began to build a fire.
She realized her best hope of finding the company would be following the river upstream until she found the east road and hoping their pace on the ponies did not outstrip her.
The thought made her anxious enough to consider just starting out now in the dark, but traveling at night would do her little good in the thick brush, she needed to dry out, warm up, and eat to regain strength.
She watched the damp makings of her fire smoke heavily, clinging to life in an attempt to flame.
Luckily dwarves are naturally good with fire, possessing a sort of extra sense about it, and she deftly opened up the birthing flicker to some air, singeing the tips of her fingers a bit but happy to do so in exchange for the flame that crawled over the wood.
She watched the fire dance eagerly, nibbling the edges of the leaves she provided like a hungry child.
But her eyes and thoughts were dark even as she mothered the flames for hours.
The screech of a hare in one of her snares resounded from the woods behind her, and she was thankful for the distraction of slitting the throat and peeling the skin, and as she watched the hare cooking and smelt its flesh, she sighed and let her hands fall to support her weight behind her, brushing unfamiliar leather.
She turned curiously and palmed the small drawstring sack, recalling how Bilbo had handed it to her for safe keeping.
She fought the knot which held it to her belt, finally wrenching it free.
When she worked it open she laughed outright despite herself; leave it to Bilbo to give her strawberries (and leave it to fate that these would remain on her belt by a single knot, and not her axe).
The berries had of course been crushed to a fine mush in the bag and were little good for eating on their own now.
It seems she was meant to try that berry garnish after all, though it was not exactly a chicken.
The smells blended together surprisingly well, and for a moment it lifted her spirits. Perhaps tomorrow she would find Fili and-
That thought brought a cold and bitter pang to her chest.
In all likelihood he shared the same fate as Petunia, body rolling under the surface until reaching the ocean, rotting and twisting forever in the tides.
She cringed to think of his fair face, pallid with death, sinking into crushing depths. Braids untwined, eyes…
What color were Fili's eyes exactly?
Had she really never looked before?
He was probably dead, and she could not say if he had green eyes or blue.
Her stomach tightened, and she was happy she had not eaten in over a day because she was certain she would retch.
She pulled her knees up to her chest, holding herself tightly, fighting what could only be sobs lurching up, eyes so cold and watery the fire itself should have been quenched by her gaze alone. She pressed her palms into them, she would not cry.
"What smells so divine?"
Rather than scream in shock her back stiffened and her head spun so tight and fast she worried she'd pulled a muscle, drawing her knife out in front of her and preparing to bolt from whatever man or creature of speech may appear.
Rather it was a dirt coated blonde dwarf who emerged (or rather strutted) from the thick brush.
Fili wore a wide closed mouth grin, and he sauntered in his usual fashion up to the fire and began to pick at the skinny hare as though he was approaching a grand table and pulling at a roast boar.
The ruse was quite complete and convincing until she took a more discerning look at him, realizing that the majority of the mud that stuck to him was matted with blood (which had come from a grizzly looking head wound) and his saunter had been emphasized by a painful tightening motion.
He let out an approving grunt as he sucked the meat from the hare's thin foreleg.
"Good to see you made it," he said nonchalantly.
"Where were you," she asked darkly.
"Is that anyway for a lady to address her savior?" he chided, his eyes glittered in playfulness mixed with pain.
She shifted uneasily, a feeling of indignation washing over her. It was very like him to make light of their situation, he probably thought he was protecting her.
As if she were as naive as Kili or Bilbo.
"I'm not your brother Fili, you can't brush this off like it was nothing. I owe you my life."
The corner of his mouth twitched a bit at that, "You would do the same for me."
"You don't know that."
"I do," he said, rather sanctimoniously, "You did it for a pony; don't try to pretend you wouldn't do it for someone you knew."
Eily began to pick at the rabbit, "Yes, well… I liked the pony."
Fili chuckled slightly, holding his side as he did so for it was painful, "Ooo, dear lady! You should be nicer to dwarves bearing gifts!"
At this he pulled her axe from his belt, which had been concealed under his heavy coat.
"My axe!" Eily scooted next to Fili and took it from him gladly, rubbing the grime from its engraved blade, "Where did you find it?"
"It washed up not far from me downstream. I woke up a few-"
Fili stopped when he realized how close Eily had become. She had laid down the axe and was up on her knees, leaning her face close to his and nearly straddling his leg.
"What are you doing?" he asked flatly.
"Trying to figure out what color your eyes are."
Fili frowned at that, eyes narrowing, convinced she was up to mischief of some kind and no small amount uncomfortable.
He began to fidget to and fro to avoid her gaze, but her face followed his stubbornly, locked together as it were.
"Will you stop tha-" Fili stopped breathing when her hands took hold of either side of his face.
Under the caked on dirt, blood, and matted hair long eyelashes and resilient emerald eyes gazed on him steadily.
They were red and swollen, had she cried over him?
Her thumbs began to gently caress his cheeks, rubbing the dirt from them.
Was she going to kiss him?
He swallowed but still refused to take a breath as she pushed his knotted braids and fallen locks of hair out of his face. He found himself licking his soiled lips, wanting her to find them moist and warm.
"…blue."
"…Excuse me?"
"Your eyes," she beamed, "they're blue!"
She flopped back down next to him and picking a shred of meat from the hare, chewing it contentedly.
"I know I recently experienced a severe head injury," Fili said, "but care to explain?"
"Not really," Eily sighed, gazing deep into the fire, "Eat up, big day tomorrow."
Fili's eyes shifted about uncomfortably, and he rubbed his chapped lips self-consciously, hoping she had not noticed him moisten them.
He found lifting his arm to be quite painful and sucked a sharp breath in between his teeth.
Eily turned to him again, "You're hurt badly?"
"A bruised rib and a bump on the noggin really," Fili wheezed, adjusting his posture to something less painful, "otherwise just scrapes and the like. All better than drowning. You are quite alright?"
"Oh yes, yes," Eily waved away his concern, "Like you just some bumps and bruises, lost my cloak. But my axe has found me again so I don't need a thing in the world!"
"Except a bath… badly." Fili's nose wrinkled as he took in what a mess she was.
"Take a look at yourself prince piggy!"
Indeed they both looked terrible, their blonde heads were dingy brown matted messes, their faces and clothes painted over with mud, but neither fancied a dip in the freezing river again at the moment.
They spent some time in silence until Fili could stand it no longer, "This really is quite delicious, almost forget I'm outdoors and not at an Inn. Except for the bugs, and the cold, and the muck, and-"
"Can we not dwell on it please?" she snapped, smiling a little in spite of herself.
"-and the near drowning."
This time she began to swipe at him playfully.
It was a position he was used to, pleasing others and being laughed at, it made him at ease and he laughed genuinely.
"You're terrible to bring that up! Kili would never-"
Fili found himself wincing away at the sound of his brother's name, frowning deeply.
Why would he do that?
He pulled away from her laughter and she sensed it, sitting quietly and dividing up the rest of the hare.
There was no more laughter that evening as the remainder of the conversation turned to how they would find the others.
Fili awoke the next morning feeling… puffy. His face felt slightly swollen and his mouth itched.
When he reached up to feel his face he could feel tiny bumps in his beard and on his cheeks. His mouth, lips and tongue were definitely swollen and his breathing was impaired slightly.
"Fili! What happened to your face?" Eily squeaked when she saw him.
Suddenly the discomfort of his face was multiplied tenfold by his embarrassment, "I don't know."
Though his mouth was swollen and itchy he could still speak and be understood quite clearly.
"It looks like you've had a reaction to something," Eily gritted her teeth as she approached cautiously, it looked uncomfortable, especially those enflamed red bumps.
Fili shook his head, that wasn't possible. He hadn't come into contact with anything he didn't—
"The sauce!" Fili roared, an accusatory finger pointing directly at Eily, "What was in it?"
"It was just the strawberries Bilbo-"
"Strawberries?" Fili snarled, rolling his eyes and groaning, "I can't eat strawberries!"
Eily's eyes narrowed with suspicion, what did he mean he couldn't eat strawberries?
When it suddenly occurred to her that that night around the fire everyone had partaken of the berries except Fili, who had given his entire share over to Kili.
She remembered because Kili's lips and fingers had been stained a bright red all night and into the morning.
"Oh no…" she mumbled.
"Yes 'oh no,'" Fili snorted, scratching at his enflamed beard.
"Well for the grace of Mahal don't scratch it!" she barked, kneeling down next to him and holding his face gently, swatting his hands away with motherly authority, "wait right here."
Fili flopped onto his back with a huff, more agitated that he should be seen like this than anything. He was something of a vain young dwarf, and that he should be so exposed in front of the very dwarf he had fancied himself possibly kissing the night before…
Right before she had mentioned his brother.
A hallow sinking feeling crept into his belly, followed by a self-depreciating internal monologue.
She was a member of the company, under his charge, and continued to be a part of his uncle's designs for the reclaiming of Erebor (by all rights even the oblivious Kili shouldn't have been fancying her). He should not care if it were Eily seeing him like this anymore than he would if it were Bombur or Dori.
He resolved that when she returned he would act as such.
"I've found some chamomile!" she piped, crashing through the brush as she returned excitedly.
"We've nothing to boil it with, so I'll have to create a poultice for you." She said as she tore a clean strip from her skirts, "I think if we change it every three hours or so the swelling will go down in a day or so. You'll have to drink plenty of water." She sat down next to him and set to work.
Fili found himself absent mindedly working the frayed hem of her skirt between his thumb and forefinger while she sat distracted.
So much for resolving.
"Here we go," she said gently. Placing the poultice across Fili's jawline and again pushing his dirt encrusted hair from his face. Her brow furrowed slightly, "You'll have to hold it on there as we go, we can't waste any time waiting… I'm very sorry about the rabbit."
Her chest heaved regretfully and Fili wanted his entire face to be able to sink behind the medicated cloth, ashamed of requiring anyone's care and wanting more than anything for her to look at him with eyes that weren't full of pity.
He pressed the cloth to his mouth with his hand and stood, gesturing that they should head out as quickly as possible.
They walked the entire day in relative silence, following the high waters of the river that only two days ago tried to kill them. It was a little surreal actually, looking into the now calm water and observing the damage that had been done to the surrounding forest.
It was remarkable just how far downstream they had been carried, and Eily changed Fili's poultice twice that day before it became too dark to continue.
Eily had wanted to keep going, ever fearful of being left behind, but Fili knew too well what lurked in the wild at night.
"I'll start a fire, you lay some of those famous snares of yours and maybe we'll get lucky again."
They didn't.
They sat by their fire on the edge of the river and listened to their stomachs talk to one another. By now Fili's pipe weed had dried out, so he contented himself to smoking. Though even he had to admit it was less satisfying with an empty belly.
But while he was digging through his pockets for his pipe his fingers brushed his mirror and comb, and since then his mind was preoccupied as to how he probably looked. He knew his clothes were in total shambles, the fine fur of his coat was knotted with dried mud. Finally he stood, handing his pipe to Eily as he did so.
"What are you doing?" she asked with genuine curiosity as he stepped behind some thick bushes.
"If I can't have a full belly tonight I may as well have a clean back. Keep guard over that pipe, I'm rather fond of it."
She rolled her eyes, that water was bound to be freezing, he'd regret this.
She took an experimental puff of the pipe as a pale streak whizzed by, flapping its naked arms wildly as it launched itself into the shallow pool that formed on the edge of the river run.
The blonde head that emerged had nothing but shrieks and Khuzdul curses to confirm her theory.
Still though he stuck it out, scrubbing himself (especially his irritated beard, which was quite relieved by the frigid waters) doggedly until he was convinced he had attained a passable level of cleanliness.
He gave the fire a wide berth when he approached the water's edge again; cautious not to expose himself as he gathered up the clothes he'd left in the bushes. When he returned to the fire he was donned only in his breeches and boots and began to promptly wash out the rest of his clothes as well as could be expected.
Eily did not comment on this, truthfully she didn't blame him for wanting to be clean.
Some long minutes passed until eventually the temptation was too much and she waded out into the river fully clothed, not ready to take a full body plunge.
She twirled delicately, trying to work loose the filth in her skirts and Fili smiled under his damp, unbraided beard.
She looked like a moonlit dream… a nightmarishly filthy moonlit dream.
He chuckled to himself at that thought as she finally submerged herself, sputtering curses to Mahal when she came up for air.
When she emerged she slapped her soaking layers onto a rock near the fire, taking bracing breaths against the persistent chill of the water.
She sat close to the fire and pulled her legs to her chest, she was clad only in her linen dress, picking at its tearing hemline: he was splayed out in his breeches and mud caked boots combing his hair.
They both sat contentedly next to the warm fire, just watching it burn and not needing any conversation for a while.
"You should let me braid your hair," Fili offered out of nowhere, placing the last bead back into the braids of his beard, finally looking and feeling himself again.
Eily thought he was teasing her appearance, "Your face doesn't look as red… still swollen though… or maybe that's just how your lips always looked," she said, intending to be playful but coming off a little too cruelly.
"I mean it."
Eily didn't know how to think about this offer. Braiding another's hair was… intimate somehow. But wasn't that a key element on this journey? Didn't she want to be a dwarf like any other? And have family and friends who would braid her hair and invite her to dinner and tell jokes and sing songs with her?
She rose wordlessly and approached him.
Fili straightened when she stood, his strong chest tightening. He wasn't a bashful child like Kili, he did not blush when he looked at her. He stared appreciatively at her beauty with a calm self-assurance, holding her eyes with his. His heart thumped in his chest at the sight of her figure in the clinging fabric, but it was not the line of her hip or the full sloping curves of her breasts that enticed him so thoroughly (though he'd be a liar to deny that she possessed such allure), it was the confidence with which she approached him. She did not put on a maidenly show, did not quiver before him like a frightened animal. The tendrils of her damp hair fell and framed her face seductively, and from below her long eyelashes her eyes met his, and in the firelight they burned a deep green more striking than the halls of Erebor itself (a belief he maintained to his death). And when she turned to sit in front of him, back mere inches from his bare chest, he prayed to Mahal she could not feel the heat that must have been radiating from his body like a forge fire.
She expected that at any moment Fili would reveal that he had been teasing, that it was a well-intentioned but poorly thought out practical joke, so she eyed him carefully as she approached him. If he was joking, he didn't seem to be giving it away. If he suddenly started laughing at her she fully intended to kick him square in his face, but he didn't. He just watched her, waiting.
She could not have anticipated the pleasure of having another's fingers caress her scalp, combing her hair with their fingers, it caught her unawares and relaxed her. She expected that having another braid her hair would be strenuous, a series of tugging and pulling, but not so, Fili was gentle and quick, pulling the hair around her face into a loose twist, creating several small braids and pulling them to the sides and over. The entire procedure went far too quickly, but she smiled at the results he showed her in his mirror as she wriggled out from in front of him to sit at his side.
She had not felt this much like a true dwarf since before she had form, "Thank you," she rasped, tears filling her eyes.
Fili's hands fumbled stupidly as he tried to focus on combing Eily's hair with his fingers without pulling or knotting it further. His chest was thumping and his shoulders were tight, but he fought such childish symptoms down. He was only touching another dwarf's hair.
Even so he would have happily played with her tresses all night, but he twisted her hair up as quickly as he could to avoid suspicion once he realized it.
He couldn't believe her reaction when he had finished, she was near tears. All because he had braided her hair; a favor so small in dwarf households that most dwarves just did all their own braiding to avoid the trouble.
"You act as though I'd saved your life," Fili smirked; oddly proud of this handiwork if only for how happy it seemed to make her.
"Sorry, it's just no one has ever braided my hair before."
"Not even your mother?" Fili asked before thinking, eyebrow cocked.
His mother had taught him to braid Kili's hair before he could even lace a boot.
"My mother was a mountain Fili," Eily replied sourly, tearful appreciation vanished.
"So… no?"
"How is it you can build a snare, make a poultice, and build fires from nothing more than damp leaves yet you can't braid hair?" Fili asked over his shoulder, more to pass the time than put Eily on the spot.
The morning was bright and warm, his face had finally reduced to its normal size, and Fili sauntered as though he was strolling through a familiar garden, not desperately tracing a river to find his family and friends.
But their time together had made them each more comfortable, and she answered without insult or difficulty: "It isn't that I didn't know how to braid… I just hadn't. It seemed like the sort of thing that should be instigated by someone else… at least initially."
Fili supposed that made sense, he could never imagine just braiding his hair out of the blue as a child in the Blue Mountains. His mother had always done it until he'd gotten big enough to demand that autonomy for himself. The thought of never having another to start that… well, it did seem sad.
"So did your mother teach you all these things?"
"No. She taught me speech, history, fighting techniques, forging, metalworking, gem cutting, traditions, manners and etiquette, the important things for her. But no skills I could put to use on the road. You could say I learned how to be a dwarf from her, but I learned to be a traveler from Gandalf. I learned how to build a fire from him, and took to that easily, and riding also, that I never did take to that. The poultice and the snares I learned from Rohnan."
"Rohnan?" Fili prodded, for this conversation was distracting him from the otherwise boring journey upriver.
"Rohnan was a woodcutter until his wife and children died, after which he went into the woods for solace I suppose, and became a trapper," Eily said heavily, "he was a friend of Gandalf's who I lived with in the woodlands for three months east of the Misty Mountains. He taught me useful common tricks for living in the wild. Taught me the value of things."
"The value of things? Like the market price of sausages?" Fili chuckled.
"No… the significance of my quest."
At this Fili stopped, watching the dwarf girl's back judiciously.
"All the gold in Erebor could not restore what it was that pained Rohnan," Eily said diplomatically.
Fili could not believe his ears, and this from a dwarf of Erebor!
"…you mock us," Fili scowled.
"I do not! Erebor must be reclaimed, but for the right reasons! And forgotten gold is not one of them!"
Fili's lips curled over his teeth at the notion, "You know nothing of it! You are all high judgments from sage butchers and wizards, but you were spat from a mountain full grown, and until now you've never had an empty belly. You don't know what poverty is! What toil and indignity is! You don't know what it is to see your family spat on. I may be young, but I do not sit atop moral platitudes and lecture on the evil of gold when it is a concept I do not understand!"
With that Fili stormed ahead, and there was a strained silence between the two for some long hours until they reached the point where the river met the road.
"Keep to the trees," Fili said roughly as he picked up a turtle that had been sunning itself on a rock, slamming it against the stone until he could be sure it was dead,
"You like turtle?" he asked blithely.
Eily flinched a bit as he tossed the dead bloody thing to her, but she tied its corpse to her belt nonetheless.
They walked into the evening, following the road but keeping always to the trees and shadows, for their morose band of two was not fit to defend itself should unfriendly eyes be traveling the road.
It would seem that Fili had learned his uncle's lessons well, for his bearing had been proud and cold since their argument.
He had started their small fire without a word, and was now prying open the dead turtle's shell with his knife.
It seemed that he would rule with conviction and intractability should he ever come to the throne, at least on the exterior.
This led her to wonder what sort of king Kili would be, for even when he tried to mimic his uncle's stately dourness or his brother's cool intellect his own warm heart and general sense of wonderment (or oftentimes confusion) shone through.
Had she and Fili been on speaking terms she may have asked him his opinion, but it seemed his mood only soured when Kili became a topic of conversation.
"Fili," she said smoothly and quite out of nowhere, chewing on a strip of lightly seared turtle, "what is your mother like?"
"Tall." He said resolutely.
"No, what's she really like?"
"A lot like Thorin I suppose. Strong, dark hair, the elegant daughter of kings."
"No really Fili, what is she like?"
"Proud," Fili relented, a softness coming into his voice, "and very clever, she knows what you're thinking before you do most days. Kind," he added, "but… tired I think."
Eily could relate, "My mother is a lady most ancient. She too was very tired, and lonely I think, though I was always there once she had created me. There was a time when I would say or do anything to please her."
There was a long silence.
"Why do you think she refused him?"
"What?"
Fili stared into her eyes evenly, the firelight dancing on the shining beads in his beard and braids, "Durin. Why do you think she refused him?"
"I'm… well I don't think she did."
"Then why didn't she go to him?"
"Because she couldn't," Eily said surely,
"Mother never told me of the days before the Arkenstone, before Mahal gave her the eyes of the mountain. Whether her slumber was accidental or the work of some darker power not even she knew. She died alone before Mahal gave her a second life and that is all I know of it."
Fili's brow wrinkled with concern, for the girl's voice had darkened considerably.
"It is said that the First Father searched for many years, though no one knows for what. I think that maybe he knew she was out there but lost hope. He may not have died alone… but his heart did."
That came as a morbid comfort to Eily, who lived as the tragic shadow cast by the light of her mother's power. If her mother's story was a sad one, at least it was a story of parted lovers, and not rejected or forgotten ones.
"Do you think you're more like your mother or father?" she mused.
"I don't remember much of my father," Fili replied stiffly, "my mother I suppose."
"And Kili?"
Fili smiled, "Kili isn't like anyone; never paying attention to his lessons, beaming at strangers, laughing at everything and understanding next to nothing."
"You are unkind!" Eily chided him, "Kili is not some dullard!"
"No, no, I suppose not," Fili grinned, "but lacking in wisdom and overflowing in eagerness."
"Kili only lacks wisdom when it comes to you. The poor thing doesn't even realize his elder brother is a cad," Eily snickered.
"Have you noticed that every other time we speak it goes famously, but anytime in between you end up with your boot in your mouth? Perhaps we should begin a new habit, at the end of every conversation we must swear to leave one another with a compliment, that way neither of us can truly remain agitated with the other."
Fili was smiling coolly; his eyes alight with what seemed like flirtation.
"My boot in my-" Eily began as though to yell, but instead smiled slyly, "Why yes," she purred, "I think that is a very marvelous idea my delightfully obnoxious friend," she smiled teasingly, her voice full of pretension and playfulness, daring him to be offended and deal a verbal blow.
"Indeed my most pulchritudinous lady!" Fili smiled widely, bowing with equal airs formality and clownishness.
Eily's eyebrows shot up, "Impressive vocabulary master dwarf! Very well, what does it mean?"
"It means beautiful," Fili replied evenly, eyes gentle, his smile subtle under his beard.
**Author's Note: As always deepest thanks to my readers and reviewers! I realize that this chapter is very dialogue heavy, so please be brave and let me know how it worked out (was it tedious, did certain parts work better? etc etc).
Also to the Fili fans in the audience, please do not think I'm being biased because this particular relationship is moving so very slowly. I see Fili and Kili as being fundamentally different dwarves despite being such close brothers. So yes, no bias intended, the opposite really: while I still have no idea who/if anyone will end up with anyone I want each relationship to be represented realistically and with care.
So again if anyone has thoughts on what is working and what needs work I happily welcome all types of input (seriously, I made it through grad school so I am remarkably thick skinned, especially when it comes to making my work more enjoyable).
I hope you enjoyed the update and will return for the next!**