A/N: Thank you for reading along, and apologies for last week's mis-post of Chapter 7...it has been fixed and the correct chapter is there now. Huge thanks to Lady Elainee for the alert! Hand on heart to you...

Chapter Eight

Blinded by stinging gusts of swirling snow, Kili kicked up a pile of snow and gravel to mark their starting point, and then locked elbows with Nÿr and trudged toward the wall of stone that he knew marked the uphill side of the road—far safer to follow than the drop-off side. They found it when Nÿr stumbled against rock.

"There are a few old shelters along here," Kili shouted to her as he pointed into the dark away from the slide area. "Let's hope we can find one…!" They stayed together, followed the wall, eyes narrowed against the wind and nearly blind in the darkness. Every few minutes he stopped to kick up another mound of snow and gravel.

It took longer than Kili hoped to find a rough-hewn doorway carved into the rock. They kicked up one last pile of stones pointing to their shelter, and then Kili ushered her inside.

Kili's foot bumped something solid, and setting the emergency bundle down, he bent to discover a metal box of a size and shape he recognized.

"Signal torches," he murmured to Nÿr. "Let's hope they aren't old." He quickly felt for the latches and opened the case, frozen fingers still able to find one and lift it out. "Where are you?" he asked. "I don't want to light this too close to you."

"I'm here—next to a wall," Nÿr answered.

Kili turned his back, found his flint in his trouser pocket, and lit the signal torch.

It flared to light, much brighter than needed but he held it high and they both got a good look at where they were—and saw a narrow door—wood, unlatched. Inside was a square inner room, relatively clean and dry but for a little dust and debris and few odd stacked stones that might make a fire ring. The ceiling, high above, showed a narrow gap in the stonework.

"Vent," Kili murmured. Then he planted their torch in a wall bracket.

"I wonder if there's a concealed entrance into the lower levels," Kili said, reaching out to test the stone walls. "Maybe there's a way in." He wanted to check on Skirfir, then report to his brother and have a chance at the saboteur in their midst before sunrise.

Nÿr pulled off one glove and let her fingertips trail along the stone. "No seams," she said. And neither of them found the kind of decorative ornament that often hid a latch.

"Just plain, solid walls," Kili said. "I guess we're stuck here." Disheartened, his shoulders sagged. Any hope of getting the jump on his quarry now stalled while the storm raged on. "Hope Skirf made it all right."

Nÿr's eyes were wide, her face solemn. "I'm sure they got him inside to the infirmary. His leg will mend—the break was clean. He's in better shape than the others."

Kili nodded. "Thank you for helping them," he murmured. She bowed her head once in return. Not knowing what else to say, he stepped back to the foyer and retrieved the emergency bundle.

"You know, I remember you," he said. "From the day the Blue Mountains folk arrived." He dropped the emergency bundle near the fire ring. "I…" He stopped and smiled in hopes of putting her at ease. He looked up to see her blush slightly, then ducked his head. "I noticed how well you ride."

He pulled a roll of padded blankets from the emergency bundle and handed it to her before realizing what it was.

"Lots of experience, riding there and then back." she said. They both looked at the bedroll. She didn't seem to quite know what to do with it.

"Let's see what else we have…" he changed the subject. Thankfully, they got past the awkward moment by going through the rest of the bundle together. Pack of dried fruit and meat, a small kettle, several small metal cups, and a wrapped bundle full of treated wood—the kind steeped in long-burning oils.

"My Lord—are you limping?" Nÿr asked, suddenly very concerned when she saw him favoring his right side as he took the wood to a clear area and laid it down.

"It's nothing." Kili tried to smile as he unbuckled his sword and set the weapon within reach before bending to set the wood and light the fire. "Old injury. Acts up in the cold sometimes." Using the torch, the oil-soaked wood flared to life, the flames green-yellow and hot.

She looked skeptical. "I have my aid kit," she said, pointing to the leather satchel she'd brought with her. "Let me know if you need something..."

"Thanks," Kili said. But he looked away. He was pretty sure that nothing in her kit would help him. Phantom injury is what Gandalf had called it, once it had become clear that the effects of the Morgul poison would revisit him every year. Some years the scar merely ached. Other years it laid him flat with a full relapse of fever and searing pain…just as it had that night in Laketown when the dragon attacked in the early morning hours after the last light of Durin's Day.

And every year since, a repeat of the pain and fever, and torturous nightmares full of a dark presence that taunted and tormented.

All because an orc had used a poisoned arrow and tried to stop him from opening the watergate that had trapped thirteen dwarves and a hobbit as they fled Thranduil's prison.

He dashed that memory away and tried not to think about it. Instead he poked at the wood with his long knife, spacing the pieces so they'd settle into a slow burn. He tried to tell himself that with the dark lord gone from Middle Earth, the strange wound had lost its power, that a little soreness would be all he was due.

The war is over, he told himself. Over and done.

And he tried not to recall those last few years. As Sauron had gained in strength, so had the power of the wound. It had kept him unwell and close to Erebor when others like his cousin Gimli were free to travel Middle Earth and join the fray.

His thoughts broke when Nÿr took the kettle and went back to the outer doorway to fill it with snow. Kili shook off his worry and busied himself with positioning a flat stone in the fire for the little pot.

But when she returned and he stood to make room for her, a sharp jolt of pain shot through his thigh, cramping the muscles. He leaned against the wall, clutching his knee, face clenched with agony.

Nÿr responded like any healer would—she leapt to assist. She took hold of his knee and forced him to lift his foot and change position—which hurt more at first, then the pain suddenly abated.

Kili gasped with the relief of it. "Thanks," he breathed.

"I have a warming salve in my kit," she replied. "Once we're settled here, we can apply it—work on that muscle."

He stared. Her concern was nothing more than a healer interested in treating an injury.

But he had to admit, the sight of this lass with the sleek dark braid kneeling at his feet and rubbing a warming ointment into his thigh made his brain stall. It would would place her perilously close to…well, other parts…and this was all somehow quite more confusing and interesting than it should be, despite the pain involved.

Leading to completely inappropriate thoughts again. What are you thinking? He chided himself. He'd learned long ago that any warrior lass could put an unwanted amorous lad in his place faster than anyone would guess. He assumed that included healer lasses.

He tried to distract himself from imagining the feel of her hands on his skin.

She looked up to meet his eyes. "Is it true you took an arrow meant for your uncle?"

"Not quite. We thought we had escaped Thranduil's dungeons without anyone knowing." He let out a huff. "It was Bilbo's idea…float out in empty food barrels…except the elves caught wind of our exit and closed the Watergate to the river." He suppressed a grin. "And someone had to open it."

Nÿr's expression became very solemn and very gently, she used her healer's touch to test the scar.

"Orc tried to stop me with an arrow…but we got away. Fili pulled the shaft once we got downstream. Just a leg wound…"

"Some battle wounds involving joints never quite go away," she said.

If you only knew, he thought. "It's just the cold." He clenched his jaw and made himself change the subject. "I think we'll be here awhile…" He gestured toward the rest of the emergency pack.

Then, as mountain people generally did in survival situations, they wrapped the padded blankets around themselves and sat next to their little fire—staying warmer by sitting close and preserving each other's body heat.

They munched on the dried rations and listened to the storm howling.

"You realize we'll never hear the end of this," Kili commented, slowly chewing a handful of dried fruit. "Lad and lassie, sheltering overnight in the snow just before Durin's Day. Funny excuse for missing all the parties inside." He said it to try and lighten their mood.

Nÿr didn't answer or meet his gaze. They both knew what else generally went on during Eve of Eve parties.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't joke," he said. "You must have a husband who's worried? Family?"

"No, my lord."

"Kili," he said. "Since it's just the two of us, I really don't think the title is necessary. It's just for show, you know. People like to use it, so I let them. But really, I'm just a kid from the Blue Mountains. I was born there, you know. Not here."

"In Khelethur?" she said, naming the main settlement a little wistfully. "I just spent five years there. It's a beautiful place."

"It's where I grew up," Kili said. And while the fire burned brightly, the two of them compared notes about the great valley deep in the granite range, enjoying easy conversation until Nÿr yawned.

"It's been a pretty long day," Kili observed. "We should try to sleep." He looked toward the outside where the storm raged on. Snow swirled into the open, front foyer, mixed with ice. "I vote we forego setting watches. No one will be out in weather like this."

She agreed, and putting their backs to each other for support, they let themselves drift off to sleep, blankets up to their chins.

Sometime later Kili woke, aware of a light sheen of sweat on his forehead and a dull, steady ache in his knee. He repositioned his leg. Next to him, Nÿr shivered.

"Hey," he nudged her. "You're too cold if you're shivering." His voice was deep and quiet.

She rubbed her face as he leaned forward and stirred the little fire. It flared to life, but without more fuel, he knew it would not burn much hotter.

"Come on," he said, opening his arms to her as she shifted position to sit between his knees. He wrapped himself around her, tucking her back against his chest so she could sit enveloped in his warmth.

She said nothing, but after a few minutes stopped shivering.

"Better?"

"Thank you," she said in a small voice.

Kili felt almost too hot, now.

"You don't have to do this," she said.

"Keep you warm?"

"I'm…not really someone a prince should be associating with."

"Why not?"

"There was trouble, once. When I lived in Dale."

Kili frowned. "So? You can find that anywhere…" He started to laugh softly, then realized she was serious. "I'm sorry," he said, guessing her problem. "Trouble how?" he urged gently.

"I…can't. I'm sorry."

"So am I." He said nothing more for a moment. How was he going to forge a friendship with her if she refused to share? In the firelight he could see the back of her head and the weave of her long single braid, raven black and sleek. The tied-off tail-end lay near his hand and impulsively he threaded it gently between two fingers...silky and soft.

Then he decided to gamble. "How about this. I'll tell you about the biggest trouble I've had, and then if you think you can top it, you can tell me yours."

She looked over her shoulder at him, dubious. He charged ahead.

"My orc wound was healed by an Elf."

"I've heard the story." She nodded.

"Yeah, well here's the part I'm guessing you haven't heard. The healer was a she-elf…and I fell ridiculously in love."

"Love?"

"With an Elf."

Her eyebrows shot up.

He smiled. "Warrior. Named Tauriel. Ran great distances without tire and was an archer like none I'd ever seen before..." He shook his head, recalling her stamina. "Saved me from a pack of spiders and that was it. I was smitten." He smiled at himself.

"Did your Uncle know?" She barely whispered.

Kili shrugged. "Don't care. My brother knew, though. Tried to knock some sense into me, then just gave up, I think. He came around to tolerating the situation."

"Admiring an elf is not a crime."

"It…may have gone a little farther than that," he admitted. "I was a complete idiot over her."

"This was years ago," he said, trying not to sound so morose. After a moment he looked up and forced a smile. "Your turn." He prompted, hoping she would choose to share.

She nodded, considered, then sat back a bit. "An older man."

"A…man?" He tried to sound non-judgmental, as if he was hearing this for the first time.

"A Dale man. I grew up there with my foster mother…" She was quiet a moment, then went on. "And I met him. I enjoyed being his friend; I was fascinated with him in a way. He took me riding on those big work horses…" She blinked, obviously she'd been in awe. Then she sobered. "But while I thought we were just friends, he thought more—or so he said." She frowned as if recalling something she didn't understand. "He wanted me to go away with him." She looked at Kili. "I wasn't of age...I tried to tell him…"

"How old were you?" Kili asked softly.

"Just forty-one," she admitted.

Nearly full height but not of age, Kili realized. Only halfway to 80, there usual time of adulthood for dwarves. Old enough to enter into an apprenticeship, but not old enough to be on her own. If she was a fosterling, she likely had no real kin to protect her, either.

"He cornered me one night at my foster-mother's pub. He insisted that we go...I refused him. He wasn't very nice after that...threatened rude things. I barely got away from him."

Kili just listened.

"But what came after was worse. He got back at me by spreading rumors...said I'd done things with him that I hadn't…" There. A small frown.

"No…" Kili moaned in sympathy, his hand touched hers.

"I was young. I thought the whole thing was somehow my fault. But…" she shook her head. "People believed the rumors. They said things. Even my friends slammed doors in my face." She huffed. "Not that I had so many." She covered her face with her hands, then dropped them and sighed. "Add to that –I wasn't truly a Dale dwarf. I was just a foundling… The disapproval was too much. I left my foster mother."

Kili was silent. While her experience was certainly worse than his, in his heart he knew that would have been the way of things for him as well if Tauriel had lived and things had run its course. No one would have approved. Backs would have been turned. Things would have been said. His uncle…Thorin would have…

He couldn't even think it. In the end, the chaos of the massive battle and his Uncle's tragic death had overshadowed everything...and afterwards Fili had firmly declared the subject of Tauriel off-limits.

The elves, of course, still held a grudge.

"Where is he now?" Kili asked Nÿr. "The Dale man."

"Long dead. A skirmish in town not long after." She stared at the fire. "Some people blamed me for that, too—but I had already left home."

"I'm sorry all that happened," Kili murmured, and he meant it. He took her hand, realizing as he did it that his unsettled feelings about her had vanished. The two of them actually had something very real in common: affections given when they were young...choices made that could still bring pain.

She looked sad, and he brushed a lock of hair from her face and held her a little closer. "Just the other day my brother was reminding me to stop regretting the past and live in the here and now."

"Can you?"

"I promised I'd try." That unexplainable urge to kiss her ear was back.

"Have you forgotten the elf?"

"Yes and no. I'm older...I hope wiser. I have made my peace with it. You? Did you forget things?"

"I'm not even that same person anymore." She shook her head. "But…when ladies try to match me with their sons and cousins, I just want to hide. If they ever found out, if those rumors ever came back...they would surely disapprove."

"But that's good." Kili smiled.

"Good?"

"For me. I don't disapprove. But then, I fell for an elf lass. Who am I to judge?"

She was silent.

"Does this bother you?" he asked.

She laughed softly. "No, it doesn't bother me. It shows you have an open heart." She squeezed his hand. She meant it.

"Do I?" He grinned. "If so, that was just about the only time it showed itself."

"Was there another?"

"Jo. Warrior, back in the long years. She was lost in battle…" He stopped, unable to say more. He hadn't thought they'd been serious...until she was gone and he was alone. "What about you?"

She shifted to look at him. "Egil. One of the other trainees in Ered Luin. He was sort of lost in battle too, you might say."

Kili's eyes went round.

She smiled shyly. "Not that kind. To another lass. She chose him, he agreed..." The little frown again, followed by a wistful glance. "They're in Duillond now. At least last I heard." She squeezed his hand. "It's been five years since."

Kili smiled and looked at her hand, realizing that he no longer felt the cold or even the heaviness in his limbs.

"Do you know it's been a very long time since I had such easy conversation with a lass?" He smiled fondly at her.

Her eyes met his. She looked skeptical.

"Sitting with you...it's nice. I like it." But then he felt awkward again and it made him feel suddenly hollow, suddenly so aware that she deserved more. Why did no one else see that she was so adorable...so devoted, yet so alone? "Maybe we should both take Fili's advice," he murmured.

"How so?" Her voice was gentle.

"Stop regretting the past and live in the here and now…" They looked at each other as the winds gusted outside, and her skeptical look changed, as if she were considering. He wondered if she was missing the food and drink and dancing going on in the main halls. Then he gambled one more time and captured her mouth in a kiss. Just a simple, soft, very tender kiss…

She said nothing for the longest moment and he wondered what she was thinking—this independent lass who had such a strong sense of duty.

Please, he thought, suddenly afraid that he'd been too impulsive. Don't turn away. He bit his lip, steeling himself for her next words. He looked at her hand held in his and slowly interlaced their fingers. He liked her hand there, found himself hoping...then felt doubt hollowing his gut. He looked back at her, his eyes wide.

Then her other hand came up to cup his jaw, and she leaned in to kiss him back. He reveled in the light softness of her touch and nearly melted with it.

Yes. And that was like opening a flood gate. Kisses led to hands on each other's faces and shoulders, which led to mouths on throats and shrugging out of coats…her hands unbuttoned his shirt, and her mouth on his collarbone made his brain stall.

They were awkward and clumsy (since they were new to each other) but it didn't stop them. He would have stopped the moment she asked...but she wasn't asking.

She gasped at a gust of icy air that nearly dampened their little fire, and Kili felt it too—the shock of freezing cold bringing him slightly to his senses. Protective, he pulled the blanket around them.

"Nÿr…" he murmured. He looked at her in the softly flickering firelight, but he could hardly think. It was like being stuck at the bottom of a deep mine and seeing the only person who could pull him to the light.

She didn't answer, but her eyes—her beautiful, perfect green eyes, softened and her hands traced their way up his shoulders and she shifted.

Yes. Her lips found his and they went further, slowly and shyly, until he was completely immersed in her scent, her warmth...

It was the most intimate thing he'd ever felt, full of yearning and tenderness and intensity…

Clearly, it was not the first time for either of them, yet it was over all too soon. In the end, she gasped and clutched his arms while he caught his breath. In the afterglow, he kissed that spot just below her ear and tried to sort his surging desire to protect her forever…and she breathed his name…Kili...and cupped his face. He realized he wanted...needed her approval…

"Could this not be good…?" he asked quietly, his voice husky and deep. It was the thing lads said to let a lady know he would welcome her Choice, should she wish to make it.

There was a long moment when their hands clasped tightly and they simply touched foreheads.

She closed her eyes and whispered, "It could…"

He eased himself to lay close beside her, skin to skin, his open hand next to hers—there if she wanted it. Her choice.

She did. She wrapped her fingers around his and rested her cheek against his palm.

This is right, Kili felt it in his soul. By the stars above, this is right.

Slowly they dozed off, wrapped closely and half-drunk with new-found accord, comfortable enough in each other's warmth.

Outside, the storm raged on, and inside Kili, the morgul fever began to spark, no matter how much he thought he could hold it at bay.

In the cold, very early morning, he lost the battle and woke, crying out in agony, his hip and entire right leg cramped and burning, his head pounding.

Nÿr was instantly awake, her hands on his forehead, her eyes showing her alarm.

"Kili," she breathed, trying to calm him. She scrambled to strip the blankets away and look at the burning, angry scarring on his thigh. Her healer's eye had to be telling her this was not a normal wound.

"What do you need…?" she asked, clearly perplexed and half-panicked. "What can I do?"

But he couldn't say. He couldn't even think through the red haze of pain.

.

.

A/N 2: Yes, this is an AU! that pulls from the movie-verse but the lads lived! Regarding morgul wounds...if Frodo's morgul wound bothered him every year after the attack on Weathertop, then I speculate that Kili's (movie-verse) morgul wound had the same impact. It's an AU! I invite you to go with it...

As always, all feedback welcome. Or drop a note and say hi! -Summer