Ch. 13: Relent or Rebel

Eily's footfalls were a whisper against the stone, which now seemed to be mocking her in the language of the elves, sighing melodically as it was.

She did not know where she was going, only that she needed to sleep but wanted to wander, her heart aching from Kili and her mind reeling from Thorin.

She came to a clearing with a fountain with what would have been a breath taking overlook had she not already been robbed of breath. She sat weakly on a pale wooden bench and stared off at the mountain range helplessly, "Help me mother."

"The hour is late for a lady to be wandering."

It was a voice which seemed synonymous with gentility and strength.

"My Lord!" she jumped up and backed away from the approaching elf, dipping low and grabbing her skirts in a botched curtsey.

But his face was not strained by offense, and he smiled conservatively, "Gandalf tells me you are of the Lonely Mountain."

He kept approaching until he passed her, moving to the very edge of the overlook with elven surety.

"Every dwarf of this company calls the mountain home, I am n-"

"And how is Durin's One? Does she continue to rest in the mountain?"

Eily stared fixedly at the elf's back, face pale and bloodless with panic.

The elf lord turned to look over his shoulder at her calmly, "Yes, Gandalf told me."

She braced herself to scream, a Khuzdul warning incase her brothers were close enough to hear and perhaps escape.

"Do not be troubled lady; I have no intention of trying to stop you."

Eily sensed no lie in his voice, for indeed if he had wished it he could have imprisoned them all by now.

"My mother is departed. She perished giving me form. The light of the Arkenstone is dead."

"Is it now?"

"It is a dangerous game you play Gandalf, setting her directly into Thorin's hands."

The elf lord and the wizard stood on either end of the lord's private library; the music of the dwarven guests was reverberating down the halls from the not so distant courtyard.

"Thorin's will is strong. I have confidence in him, and the drake's power must be checked."

"It is not the drake that concerns me Gandalf. There is a sickness in that mountain, and it radiates from that jewel. A jewel which you tell me no longer shines and has birthed a daughter onto Middle Earth for a purpose we cannot possibly understand."

Gandalf's jaw opened and closed, as it was prone to doing when he had no quick response, "Aulë has set her on a course, and that course is one of a mortal life."

"Gandalf," Elrond's voice was dark, "Ever has Aulë doted on his creations, not all of them living up to his gifts… Durin's One has been both a boon and a blasphemy upon that house. And now that spirit clings to the life of this dwarf child. You cannot predict what she will do!"

"Eily has a good heart, and she resembles more the dwarves of the bygone age. She has a love of scholarship; she will learn from other peoples and recover the lost knowledge of the dwarves. She shall grow wise and be a blessing onto the house of Durin, I am sure of this."

"It is not the child I speak of Gandalf."

Eily began to stand straight, not concerned now with fleeing but rather appearing strong. She disliked speaking of her mother more and more as her journey progressed.

"Yes my gracious Lord. Her last wish was for me to rejoin my people, and restore our honor."

The lord Elrond flipped his wrist, sending a wave of velvet out from under him so that he could set himself onto the bench in one fine graceful motion. Still he did not turn to face her but rather admired the moonlight.

"And how will you do that?"

His question did not smack of insult in the least, and so she answered plainly, "By seating Thorin on the throne of Erebor, slaying the beast, and restoring my people to glory."

"A noble goal…" Elrond admitted, and for a long while he was silent, making Eily believe he was done with her.

"Some would think that you have equal right to that throne," the elf lord said just as she was turning to find a more secluded spot to contemplate her predicament.

His words froze her to the spot and her every hair stood up in a tight rage and grim curiosity.

"Your blood is just as ancient, and you are the daughter of the Arkenstone, the heart of the mountain itself, disgrace or no… Many a dwarf would want you for a bride for what you would signify for their reign. Mahal's blessing itself gave you life, a claim no other dwarf of this age can levy… Some may even rush to call you The King's Jewel incarnate."

"I don't understand," Eily said, half choked with a desperate horror, these words were treason.

"I am simply saying that dwarves have a deep love of all things that glitter, and there may come a time when the jewel has no further use for the king."

Eily spun on her heel, "I will entertain no more of this treasonous muttering!"

"Is it treason?" the elf lord asked smoothly, "I was not aware you had sworn the blood of your line to the service of Thorin."

Eily gawked shamefacedly, "I- there has not been a proper moment- I intended-"

The elf lord stood coolly, sweeping back down the hallway he originated from, "You owe me no excuses or apologies Lady of the Vividstone. You are of the mountain…

And mountains bow to no king."

Gandalf chewed the inside of his cheek in aggravation as the lord Elrond ascended the stairs to meet him. He did not turn to gaze on the elf or acknowledge his arrival; he was too irritated at the moment as he watched the young Eily storm off in a flurry of horrified skirts.

"You had no right to say such things," Gandalf finally said.

The elf lord cocked a well groomed eyebrow, "Is this not Imladris?"

Gandalf scoffed, "Very well, you had the right but it was not right! I'll not bicker semantics with you at this late hour!"

The elf sighed, "Gandalf if she is to shake off the specter of Durin's One and restore her honor she cannot quake at the word of Thorin Oakenshield."

"She does not fear him, merely respects his position."

"He has proposed himself as a suitor for her Gandalf."

Gandalf's face paled to a shade to nearly match his beard, "How do you know this?"

"The stones of Imladris do speak to their lord when the need is great enough. The girl needs protection from him Gandalf. He will use his influence over her to bend her to his whims. And he will use her to bend all the seven dwarf kingdoms to his purpose."

Gandalf walked slowly across the room, further away from Lord Elrond as though distance would lessen the blows of each word.

"He is not wicked Gandalf, but the temptation may be too great for him, he has much to prove. And he has full command over her world: a word from him and the dwarves of Erebor and beyond will shut their doors to her forever. What can she do but relent or rebel? But that is a choice for her Gandalf, even if it does not suit your designs."

Gandalf stood staring into the stone walls, silent and contemplating.

"Gandalf, she must not swear herself to him."

Eily stormed in what she thought was the general direction of their appointed sleeping quarters, seeing many familiar fountains and statues along the way and too agitated to recognize them properly, "Damn elf craftsmanship, it all looks the same!"

She cursed and mumbled to herself in Khuzdul as she went.

Elves.

Meddlesome.

Traitorous.

They understood nothing of loyalty, of honor.

And how dare an elf lecture her on what a mountain does and does not do?

Yes, a mountain did not bow, it did not kneel, and it did not relent.

But the king shapes the mountain, carves it out, makes it valuable, makes it home.

Without kings and a people to inhabit them mountains were hallow rock: the stone could sing, but it would have no sound unless heard (that was a lesson she had learned bitterly at her mother's expense).

Without a king and a people… what was she?

Was she just a fleeting bit of magic, expelled from a shining gem and golden troves like some fleshy afterbirth?

"So that's where you've gone off to!"

She looked up from her frustrated crisis of conviction to see Bilbo padding gently across the smooth stone; the poor thing had yet to adjust to all the snoring that the others produced.

"Can't sleep again Bilbo?"

Bilbo's plump little cheeks perked up slightly and he clicked his tongue like a scolding aunt, "Not with Kili stepping on me every other minute! He's been fussing with something since the celebration ended and he keeps trying to step over me and he's none too good at it!"

Eily grinned halfheartedly at the thought.

"Finally I just gave up and decided to find other accommodations, but when I passed your room on my way down the hall the door was wide open like you hadn't even gone to bed yet."

The hobbit narrowed his eyes at her in playful accusation.

"I'm afraid sleep eludes me also."

"Ah," said Bilbo wryly, "Kili stomping on top of you too?"

"More than stomping I'm afraid," Eily sighed, too tired to clarify.

It took a moment but she smirked as she realized Bilbo's thoughts had taken an inappropriate turn and he was preparing a long winded scolding, "Though not on top of me."

Bilbo recovered his flabbergasted expression quickly, waving his hands about as though to shoo away whatever imagery he had conjured, "Well yes, absolutely, of course not, no, no no, no, no."

"You're rather funny when you're tired Mr. Hobbit," Eily smiled.

"Indeed... Well... To bed?"

Eily produced a phony dismayed gasp, "Why Mr. Baggins! I would never have guessed you for a cad!"

"Not my bed your bed!"

She arched her eyebrows at him, a teasing grin plastered to her face.

"Not- Jus- Go to sleep Lady Dwarf!" Bilbo huffed, bringing his critical index finger to bear on her, shaking it to emphasize the scolding.

"Peace! Peace Bilbo! Sheathe your weapon!" she giggled, holding up her hands as though to shield her face as she motioned to return to her quarters.

As she approached the door to her modest chamber, she could hear some of the others snoring. Over the weeks it had become an oddly comforting noise, so she left her door open so that it would be in the background as she slept.

The gentle breeze and the sound of water washed most of it out, but the thought was there. She sat on the edge of the over-large bed and wondered how she would ever manage to sleep in such an ocean of sheets.

She began to fiddle with her belt; pulling it from her hip with impatient hands (she truly was exhausted). As she did so a pouch came loose, and from it fell the long chained diamond necklace Thorin had offered her. It made a soft 'plink' as it hit the stone and she groaned audibly to pick it up. Teasing Bilbo's stiff sense of propriety had put her in a much finer mood, and now this damned thing was reminding her of everything she did not want to think on but knew she must.

There was a soft patter outside her door.

Who in the name of Durin would be wandering about at this time of night other than pretentious elf lords, insomniac hobbits, and miserable dwarf maids?

At first she laid back on the bed, intent on ignoring the footfalls and going to sleep, but the padding of feet became more urgent and erratic.

She threw her pillow across her face to smother a frustrated snarl, "Who's there?" she asked, voice muffled by the goose feather pillow and rasped from fatigue.

"Oh, did I wake you Eily?"

"Nooooooo," she groaned, "What are you still doing wandering around Gloin?"

She could hear the elder dwarf enter the doorway. She could practically hear him stick his thumb into his belt and rub his full red beard with his free hand.

She really did need to take some time to herself.

"Kili's been in a state since we bedded down for the night and well, I suppose I'd like the lad to settle down some, so I'm helpin'."

Eily pulled the pillow from atop her face, from the corner of her eye she could see through the curtains that the dark of the night would lift within a few hours.

"Help with what?"

Gloin stiffened, her voice probably sounded tighter than she had intended, and her face was strained and tired, dark circles hung beneath her eyes.

"Well… erm… I'm not sure the lad will want me to tell ye… but he's been tryin to write a love letter to accompany 'is token."

Eily was too tired to force her face to hide her emotions, coming off as astonished and wounded with a touch of what felt like nausea.

"I know I know," Gloin shrugged, "Seems strange. I was as confused as yerself, he's very young but when a dwarf says that's it, that's it. Unfortunately the lad's terrible at expressing 'imself at times."

Eily nodded in acknowledgment, "Which is where you're assistance becomes valuable."

Gloin was one of the few in the company who had wed, a match which at the time had not been advantageous for his intended, but which he had won with determined (and well written) wooing. The tale of Gloin reciting his original hand written poetry (quite verbose and risqué by dwarf standards) from under balcony every evening for sixty seven days until his wife accepted him as a suitor was one of Oin's favorite stories. Gloin always liked to add that he hadn't even brought the best verses out yet, whatever that meant.

Gloin puffed a bit at that, "Aye, but we can't seem to locate any ink for 'im."

"Ah well, I'm no help there. Perhaps you should tell Kili to just wait until morning to write the letter?"

Gloin sighed patiently as though he were talking to a child, "Yer too young to know this lass, but dwarf passions don't ebb like other sorts a' creatures. When the feeling to create strikes, there's no fighting it and- Lass what's wrong?"

Gloin hurried over to Eily, whose will had finally been eroded by stress, travel, fatigue, and Gloin's words.

She had been staring right at him, listening carefully, when tears began rolling down her otherwise expressionless face.

Gloin pulled a rather fine embroidered handkerchief from his pocket (yet another fine little personal treasure Gloin kept which he would never admit to having yet would offer at his own discretion) and began to dab at her face with it adroitly.

"You're alright? What's wrong? Was it something I said?"

"I jus- A dwarf is supposed to know right? When they see their One? It's supposed to hit them instantly but I…" she broke off slowly, confused, hurt, her chest constructing.

Gloin stared at her small featured face for a moment, a softness coming over his eyes. He suddenly sat on the bed and pulled her face to his shoulder, stroking her hair carefully and rocking her like she was his own.

"Shhhhh. Awwwe, be calm lass. You're still very young, and if you think you're the type to have a One, then you'll find them. Shhhh. Shhh."

"But I'm supposed to KNOW," her voice cracked at the height it reached and dropped dramatically, "If they know, then I should know."

Gloin paused for a moment, eyebrows knit together in a fatherly concern, "Has someone named you their One lassie?"

Her nose had begun to run, and she snorted willfully to pull the snot back up her nose, refusing to come undone any further or worry the kind dwarf whose auburn beard now acted as a pillow for her weary head, "I- no… but- but I should be able to feel it shouldn't I?"

Gloin shook his head, a small smile growing under his fleecy whiskers, "Dwarves live a long while lass, not all of them recognize their One when they see them. The love comes at first sight for some certainly, as it did for me, but some dwarves need some… urging. Like me wife!" He chuckled, rubbing her nose a little too roughly with his handkerchief so that the end turned a puffy, agitated red.

"But there's time enough for all of that lass. And maybe you'll know your One immediately, and maybe he'll know you. But rarely does it work both ways," he exaggerated a wink though she could not see it, "that'd be too easy," he pressed his handkerchief to her nose again, "Now blow."

Eily was starting to calm down. Maybe this ordeal with Thorin had caused her to put too much pressure on herself. She had never looked at any member of the company as anything more than traveling companions, fellow dwarves of Erebor. To do so would have been presumptuous of her as a disgraced dwarf and irresponsible of her as the daughter of the Lonely Mountain which still lodged the serpent. She had been so consumed with fitting in and being accepted that she had not considered the possibility of romance. Her mother had not taught her about affection, and she had just assumed that all dwarves fell in love as they did in the stories (at first sight) or not at all.

She blew forcefully into the embroidered fabric, which garnered an approving look from Gloin, who was musing on the son he had left at home (who in reality was only a decade or so younger than Kili, but to Gloin would always be a little dwarrowling).

"Now I want you to get some rest lass. And no more worrying over Ones and certainty. If there's one thing I know about Ones, it's that there is no certainty!"

Eily may have been a bit too tired to register that properly, because it sounded muddled. But she was happy to obey him, pulling her legs up under the blankets and burying her face into the obnoxiously fluffy elven pillows.

The lids of her eyes had dropped heavily and quickly, and she could only barely register Gloin tucking her in, fussing over her tenderly like a mother hen before latching the door quietly.

When Fili awoke he immediately wished he could go back to sleep. The prospect of a disappointing elvish breakfast accompanied by whatever frenzied scribbling and muttering was going on seemed more than he could face this morning, but Kili's sixth sense regarding his brother told him the blonde had awoken even though he had not moved.

"Brother!" he whispered from overtop the others, "Are you awake?"

Fili fought the urge to snap at his younger brother, "Nope."

"Can you help me with this? I think I've misspelled adulation but no matter how many times I write it it looks the same."

Fili pressed his eyelids shut.

Go back to sleep go back to sleep go back to sleep.

"Fili!"

Kili's voice revealed his desperation, and Fili was powerless against it as he always had been. Kili had but to bat his large brown eyes and frown and Fili's guilt would slither up to bite him, it's teeth like ice in his chest.

"Fili," his mother said, holding his small shoulders in her rattling hands, eyes red from tears and voice hoarse from weeping, "Your father…"

She took deep breaths, never again would she shed tears in front of her children but for joy. The lady Dis of Erebor was strong, stronger even than Thorin they said, but on this day she had wept. The day she became the widowed lady of the Blue Mountains.

"You must take care of Kili. You must be good to him and protect him. Your uncle Thorin he- He will try. But it must be you Fili: you must be more than a brother. You must be strong. Promise Mama you will be strong for her."

"I promise Mama."

That promise was never spoken of again.

His mother had likely forgotten that she had sworn her child to such an oath, or believed he had forgotten it years ago. But he never had. And he had lived by it, in the best way a child can. And now that they were grown he regretted every failing. Every time he had yelled at Kili for accidentally breaking one of his toys, teased him, every time he had quarreled with him or ignored him.

But he could not be everything to everyone, no matter how he tried.

He had tried to give his family everything, and every day he had failed in a thousand little ways no matter how careful he was. But he was trying: he chose his words and actions carefully, he studied diligently, he trained his body, practiced his social graces.

He had come on this quest, for Thorin's throne, for his mother's homeland, for riches and glory that would keep them safe and happy and he had fought to bring Kili along to save him from humiliation and disappointment, watching over his every step.

He would have given them anything.

"Fili!" Kili whispered again.

"I'm coming," he whispered, sitting up and softly treading to where Kili sat, back against the wall. His face was wane and the circles under his eyes were deep and dark, "Have you slept at all?"

Kili grinned widely and shook his head, dark tresses flying this way and that, "No, I couldn't," he pulled his hair behind his ears and went back to his scribbling.

"You seemed pleased about it?" Fili looked about the floor, there were crumpled up bits of parchment surrounding his brother's feet. Fili cocked an eyebrow; perhaps his brother had cracked from sleep deprivation, surely no letter to home was worth losing some of the only truly safe sleep they would get on this journey. Not to mention that proper spelling typically meant less to Kili than treetops to a turtle.

Kili had not yet grown into his nose, but his adult ears had come in large and round, and they reddened when Fili gently took the letter Kili was working on from his hand.

Fairest Eily,

From the moment I saw you, you have surrounded me. Not a moment goes by when I do not think upon you and your bearing, your kindness, and your courage.

It is said that dwarves value only what is taken from the earth, but you're beauty radiates like the fire from a hearth, warming me and beckoning me to shed the trappings I once thought fine. You have redefined what beauty is Eily, and my adulation does not measure to your exquisiteness, but I pray my words reach your heart, as yours have always reached mine.

I ask that you accept this token, and me as your suitor.

With the deepest devotion,

Kili

Fili's hand shook slightly at the reading of it. The note was overdone, too verbose, possibly even crude in its rambling, but not entirely awful.

He wanted to burn it.

"You've spelled everything correctly," he said, turning it over so he would not have to look at it, for the words made him sick in his chest. He smiled his best smile through his teeth, "She shall love it brother, I wish you luck."

Kili was beside himself, "You think so? She'll love it?"

He was so busy blushing and smiling he didn't even take the damn thing out of Fili's hand.

If he hadn't known better he would say the vile thing was burning him, he shook it in his hand impatiently, foolish smile still painted on his face.

Kili finally took the ghastly thing, holding it up rather proudly and then folding it carefully, "I'm glad. I had Gloin helping me, but he wandered off and never came back. Thank you Fili!"

The only thing keeping him from retching was Kili's joy, which rode over his heart roughshod.

There was a tight pain in his stomach.

This too you must give up.

Even though Kili looked wholly spent, he hopped off of the cushioned bench and pushed at the wrinkles in his tunic. Soon to be off to deliver his note no doubt.

But his eagerness was fast becoming apprehension as he tugged at his clothes and fumbled his hands through his hair.

Fili knew what was coming before Kili did.

"Fili, do I look alright?"

Fili scoffed good naturedly and pulled forcefully at the fabric of Kili's shoulder until it resembled itself again, "As good as you will. Don't be frightened. You don't have to go through with this if you don't want to."

"No."

Kili's face suddenly set with resolve. Not the face he wore to resemble their uncle either, this was genuine.

Fili shuffled a little on his feet.

Kili placed the folded parchment gently into his belt, not wanting his abnormally sweaty palms to damage it as he turned to leave.

Fili followed impotently, boots feeling inexplicably heavy.

Kili thought his head was going to explode. His chest was mysteriously mute, he was pretty sure he had stopped breathing before he even entered the hallway but he couldn't hear his heartbeat.

But there were other sounds, mostly his mind reeling at varying levels of hysteria.

Wait, no, one of those was his stomach; which felt achingly empty yet knotted up inside him. Did he need to vomit or break wind? What was he doing? This was the worst idea he'd ever had. Where was he walking? Was that her door? Durin's beard that was her door that was her door no what was he thinking stop walking feet stop walking what are you doing I HATE YOU FEET.

He stopped in front of the door to her chamber and took a breath, suddenly realizing that his lungs had been burning for lack of air, his face red from holding it. He was also sweaty.

Very sweaty.

Abnormally sweaty.

He was pretty sure no dwarf had ever been this sweaty outside a forge.

What was wrong with him? He'd sweet talked plenty of maids at home in the Blue Mountains even if he had never courted them.

Fili had followed his brother down the hall, plodding like a dwarf condemned. Kili seemed uncharacteristically elegant, his back straight, his gait assured. But when he turned and Fili saw his face he nearly cracked up despite his unpleasant mood. Kili was red and sweaty, and panting like he'd just run several leagues. Not to mention how he stood there blank faced like he'd forgotten how to knock on a door.

Finally the young brunette lifted a hand to the pale wooden frame.

There was a pause.

He knocked again, this time more robustly.

There was a low guttural grumble from the other side of the door. It reverberated deep and loud and Kili and Fili's lips curled a bit at the unattractive sound, but Kili knocked once more. They heard the bed creak loudly behind the door, and heavy footfalls approach.

The heavy elven wood was flung open like tinder to reveal Thorin, renowned night owl of the Blue Mountains and reviler of all things early. His glare was dark and narrow, his manor thunderous, his hair flattened to one side, beard askew, feet bare and probably chilly on the stone.

The gray light of sunrise was still hanging in the air, and it tensed as Thorin's snarl erupted up from his broad chest, "What?"

Kili and Fili suddenly shrank into small dwarrowlings, hurled back in time by Thorin's scowl.

"We… ah… we…"

His roar was muffled by the sound of him slamming his door back in their pallid faces.

They did not move until they heard the bed creak as their growling uncle returned to it.

"I'm beginning to think this is too dangerous, we should turn back," Fili half joked.

But Kili was not in a laughing mood. Encountering his uncle and feeling yet again like an embarrassed child was more than he could stand. He would go to her now, throw himself at her feet and give her the letter with his token. And once she had seen both he would take her in his arms and claim her mouth in his. He would run his fingers freely in her hair and hold her small hands in his. He would bask in her lap and stare up into her loving eyes and today would be only for them.

Yes. He was certain of it. A flirtatious grin arching up the corner of his mouth.

He spun on his heel, undeterred by his uncle's demeaning display, and marched down the hall. But his march became a stilted trot when he saw the oddest display in front of her door.

It was Gloin, slumped and snoring in a chair wedged against her doorway.

Kili approached silently, though he knew not why as he intended to wake the slumbering banker.

He poked the elder dwarf with a stiff finger, rousing him easily as Gloin nearly jumped from his seat, a curse on his lips.

"Oh it's only you lad. How goes the writing?"

Kili did not wish to share his work, it seemed too intimate. And since he had not told Gloin who the object of his affection was he hesitated to respond.

"Well enough. I've taken a break. Isn't Eily awake yet? She's usually eating breakfast by now."

Gloin tapped a finger to his bulbous nose knowingly, "Ah, the poor lass was up late last night. She's sleepin' in."

Kili did not know exactly what to make of that, but leaned in to reach the door regardless when Gloin smacked him in the forehead with the butt of his palm, sending the younger dwarf reeling back.

"Did you not hear me lad? She needs 'er rest! And I'll not 'ave you disturbing 'er!"

Gloin seemed a tad grumpier than usual, probably from sleeping in an uncomfortable chair, but moreover he seemed protective of her, guarding her door like a dog guarding its pup.

But Kili was determined.

"Move aside Gloin."

The banker stood, and though he was not as tall as Kili he opened his stance, blocking the doorway.

"No lad, you move aside."

Kili's eyes narrowed, analyzing the elder dwarf for weaknesses before turning away.

Gloin snorted his agreement with Kili's departure, settling back into his seat.

Fili leaned against a nearby pillar, chuckling under his beard as he observed the little scene.

"No good brother, it looks like you'll have to wait until she wakes up. You're better off waiting anyway; most ladies are in finer moods when they've acquired beauty rest."

Kili looked a little glum as he approached, his boots shuffling heavily, but there was a determined (even resentful) hardness in his eye, "I wanted to be the first one she saw this morning."

Fili planted an encouraging slap onto Kili's shoulder as he passed, not able to hide his satisfied grin.

He slid along the pillar to follow his dark haired sibling good naturedly.

"I don't know why you spent all night on a letter anyway brother; I saw that gold chain in her belt pouch. Even if she didn't accept you outright she wouldn't be carrying it for nothing."

The youngest heir of Durin seemed to have been struck dead.

"What gold chain?"