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THE COURTSHIP OF THE SPARROW-HAWK

Chapter 5 – See You

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"Miss You" Trentemoller

"What's this?" Kili frowned, sobering from his amorous haze.

When she didn't answer him immediately, he pulled the sleeve down again, fingers hovering over the bruise as he took in the shape of it.

"Eila," He turned his fierce eyes toward her nervous face. "That's a hand-mark on you. Who did this?"

Her lips pressed into a line and she shook her head, backing away from him as her heartbeat quickened painfully and her mind raced to find a plausible explanation.

No, she couldn't tell him the truth—her father would be furious and find some way to take it out on her.

Yes, she could be honest with him—Kili was her husband and promised that he'd defend her. But would he do so, even from her father?

"You said you prefer silence to lies." Kili said in anger. "And I can respect that, but please understand something." He stepped forward to take her trembling hand in his. "We're married, you belong to me—and I guard what's mine." It didn't occur to her to take offense to the words—he said it so lovingly that there was no hint of possessing her as an object. "We're one flesh now—this isn't just your bruise, it's a bruise on me as well."

She took in a steadying breath, fighting off the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes and cause her words to falter. "I want to tell you," she mumbled. "But I'm afraid of what he'll do—"

"You're under my protection now, and Fili's," Kili looked as though he wanted to hold her, but kept his distance. "Tell me," he repeated, "who did this."

"My…" she choked on the words. "My father."

"Lord Morbruk?" Kili's eyes widened. "Why?"

"Said…" Eila clamped her eyes shut, dizzy from the sensation of letting out what she'd hidden for so long. "I wasn't—he said I wasn't submissive enough. Wouldn't make a good wife. Especially when he learned it would be you." She couldn't look Kili in the eye. Not yet. There was so much more she wanted to say, but her head was spinning and she felt faint.

Eila didn't realize her knees had given way until she felt Kili's arms around her, catching her before she fell too far. The tears were flowing down her cheeks without permission now, having allowed the floodgates of all she'd locked away to pour out so freely, and she was faintly aware that Kili had scooped her up and carried her to the bed. As he sat on the edge of the mattress, he cradled her in his arms, enclosing her in a shield of muscle and flesh. She was too stunned to speak and still worrying over whether or not her father might somehow find a way to discipline her, even in Erebor.

"Eila, look at me."

She did her best to try and ward off the shock that still had a tight hold on her, but it took his gentle hand under her chin to lift her head and meet his eyes.

"You're terrified," he recognized with a whisper. And then he glowered, but she knew that his anger wasn't aimed at her. "Listen to me—no one is going to touch you in this mountain without your permission, not even me. No one is going to hurt you. My brother and I won't let any harm come to you." His eyes were pleading. "Say something, please… tell me you believe me."

"I do," her voice was not her own, it sounded as though it belonged to a stranger, but that didn't mean the words weren't true.

Kili glared at the floor, his arms squeezing tighter around her curled frame in his lap. "That was the answer to all of the riddles, wasn't it? I see, in you, a fiery spirit that wants to break free, but something was reining it in… I don't understand how a father could inflict his will on his own child."

"He's not my father," she whispered in a disoriented fog. "I'm not his child."

Kili's glare turned from the floor to her face, but his expression softened when he saw the numbness there.

"He's my stepfather." She said simply.

Kili's brow furrowed. "But his title—"

"Isn't his. My mother is of noble blood, as was my true father. But he died when I was very young. My mother died just after she remarried." She wasn't sure how the words were coming so easily now, but she didn't need to say the rest for Kili to understand what she was implying. Dwarves almost never re-married, but Morbruk's motivations for marrying a dwarf of a higher class were obvious. And though neither of them said it aloud, it was another feather in the widower's cap to have married off his only "daughter" to a Prince from the line of Durin.

Kili's face was filled with agony—a mixture of bitterness and grief. "I'm sorry, Eila. I'm sorry for your losses and for the treatment you should never have had to endure." He kissed the top of her head and sighed through his nose. "Now that I know, I can see the battle you've been waging in your mind since we first met. If I promise you that you are safe, will you make me a promise in return?"

She nodded and pulled her head out from under his chin, looking into his face with vulnerable eyes. "What do you want me to do?" Eila trusted him enough that she would have walked to the shores of the great ocean and back if he asked it.

"I want to see you," Kili said. "Not the dwarf lass who's been trained in the ways of court and not the one who's afraid of what her father will think of her. I want to see the lass you were before all of that. I've seen her peak through the façade of protocol every once in a while. The lass that likes to paint, the lass that likes to sing and laugh, the lass who…" He took in a shaky breath. "The lass I've come to love, when you let me see her. She is more beautiful to me than any treasure the world has to offer."

This was too much for the poor lass, who was already overwhelmed by the recognition that her father no longer had any power over her—physical or mental—and she wept into Kili's tunic, more in relief than anything else.

"Thank you," she whispered between sobs, peppering his neck with grateful kisses. And as she sat huddled against him, she felt the shudder of his arms and realized that his eyes were also filled with tears.