Chapter 14
Kili swayed, feeling chilled and unsteady from the fever.
"Easy does it," he heard Nÿr's voice, then felt her arm around his waist, supporting him as his thoughts cleared. Despite a dull headache, he found himself thinking about her ear again.
"Hold still," he said.
She stared. "What…?"
"Just…" he leaned closer. "Still." He could smell her hair, freshly washed, as fragrant as mountain conifers. He felt her tremble just slightly and closed the last inch between them. He kissed her lightly on the forehead, closing his eyes and savoring her scent. It helped clear his aching head.
"Can't fight this," he whispered. "Don't want to."
She did not pull away, and her hand came up to rest against his chest. He thought she would agree, but her expression was very still.
It was all too much for her to take in, Kili realized. "I'm just a lad from Ered Luin," he murmured, trying to reassure her.
She looked at him in doubt.
He nearly lost his balance again. "Nÿr, I want this to work…" he faltered. "I would like this to work." His voice seemed to lose its strength. "If you think you could love me back."
She blinked. "How could I not?" She looked like she would say more, but instead got one shoulder under his arm and helped him stand straighter. He stretched his bad leg, testing whether it would hold his weight.
"Mahal," he let his breath out. "The scar's on fire…" He grimaced.
She stood firm, supporting him until the pain eased.
After a moment Kili stood on his own. She assessed his balance, then stood back.
"See?" He managed a half smile. "We're good together."
Her eyes were wide. "Kili," her voice was quiet. "The minute people found out about me…"
"No." He reached for her hand, wanting to pull her close again. "My brother is the one who counts, and my brother won't care."
"But the Court...the councilors!" She took another step back.
"Believe me, they know about the elf. Surely any rumor about a man pales in comparison."
"I'm no one, Kili." She shook her head, hands open in helpless confusion. "A fosterling of no family whatsoever. I have no right to expect…"
"Nÿr, you can hear the ravens speak. I just saw you do it." Kili stepped forward, closing the widening gap between them.
"So? I've always been able to…"
He reached out and grabbed her hands to stop her panic. "It's everything, sweetheart," he said gently. "It's proof that you have the blood of Durin in your veins."
She stared at him.
"Don't know how," he said. "But you're descended from the line of Durin, same as I am."
Her face paled. "But we…in the guardhouse…"
He realized she was worried now about their night by the fire.
But Kili just shrugged. "Don't borrow trouble. Odds are we're more than three degrees apart, and that's all we need. In the old days, fourth and fifth cousins wed all the time."
"How would we even know?" She whispered, eyes wide.
"An will know," he said with confidence. "She has all the family genealogies. We'll just ask…in a casual, what's-up-with-the-ravens kind of way."
She looked dubious.
Kili's gut suddenly felt hollow. He looked at her hands held in his, then back at her. "You don't want me?"
She looked up, alarmed, and her answer involved pulling him close and hugging very tight.
He heard her sniff and kissed her hair, then pressed his forehead to hers, hands cupping her face. She had a willing heart, but she was too used to hiding behind duty and all this had to seem fast and impossible.
"This is right, Nÿr," he said quietly. "I feel it in my soul. You have no highborn illusions about me...and on my honor, lass...I would love and protect you to the ends of the world."
"Kili…" she whispered. One shaky hand came up to touch his, and he felt her breathing calm, her panic receding.
And then a polite tap on the door and a query from one of the chamberlains.
"On my way!" Kili called back as they stepped apart.
Nÿr took a deep breath. "You're summoned," she said, reminding him of the task at hand.
And you need time to think, he realized, seeing how bewildered she was. He took her hands again, giving them a reassuring squeeze. He was heartened to feel her grip tighten in return...and his heart lifted a bit when he saw her beautiful green eyes meet his. On impulse once again, he kissed her hand to show he meant what he'd said.
Her eyes brightened and there—a hint of that smile and the softest touch of her fingers on his jaw.
It was enough.
Then, despite chills and a headache, Kili turned himself over to the chamberlains for a quick bath and a fresh set of court-appropriate clothes. Then he managed a brief word with Lady An as she did him the honor of placing his prince's royal circlet on his head.
He found a ready escort in the form of his brother's pages and a few of the Royal Guard, and hoping that he looked stronger than he felt, bowed his thanks to Lady An and let them lead on.
But before the door closed behind them, he heard his brother's wife asking someone to join her for tea in the Queen's study…and the person who answered was Nÿr.
Fili sat stone still, glowering from his place on Erebor's great throne. He hated legal proceedings, but it was a duty he would not shirk. He knew the law inside and out, but had he not been born heir to the throne, he would have never willingly studied it.
That said, he was waiting for proof that the entire court could witness and accept. The people of Erebor needed to fully understand someone's guilt before he administered justice. It was an important part of good rule.
"My Lord!" A guard called, as a raucous flight of ravens preceded a cadre of guards into the throne room. The birds swirled through the great hall until Fili shouted a command that had them settling, flapping and ruffling high up in the stone ceiling. The guards entered in two columns, escorting a group of about ten dwarves, none of whom were residents of Erebor.
The dwarves in custody were herded forward, and several sacks of evidence placed on the floor before the King.
It was old Dwalin who rose to command the guard. At his signal, the lasses in the group were offered seats to the side, but they chose to stand with the lads and remained.
Fili recognized Yngvli the merchant and two of his insufferable daughters. How very predictable. But he guessed Yngvli was only a smoke shield. He was betting that the real culprit was one of the others.
At a nod, one of the Guard came forward and bowed.
"The search by the ravens," he said in a voice loud enough to be heard in the hall. "Revealed these dwarves of the Grey Mountains hiding stores of red dust blasting powder, a mining explosive expressly forbidden under Our Law inside Erebor. These ten," he indicated the group. "Have the residue on their hands and admit to knowingly handling it."
Fili nodded. Using what he secretly called his Thorin voice, he called out to the gathered crowd.
"Does anyone present contest this, Our Law?" It was the chance for anyone in the Hall to object. No one did.
"What is the penalty for this crime?" Fili asked.
One of the clerks stood. "My Lord, may it please the court, the penalty concerning the possession of forbidden explosives is a fine of 50,000 one ounce gold coins."
Fili nodded. "Does anyone contest this judgment?"
Again, no one spoke.
Fili raised one hand to signify his judgment. "The penalty is called in the amount of 50,000 one ounce gold pieces." Old Gloin looked ready to demand the payment on the spot.
The group from the Grey Mountains remained stoic.
They ought to be, Fili said to himself. It was a pretty light sentence, and with Yngvli's money to back them up, something they could well afford. But I'm not done, he glared.
Near the body of the fallen King's Guard, lying in state, a pair of dwarves dressed in mourning robes stood and signaled that they wished to address the proceeding.
Fili nodded to them. "Speak, sons of Hoskel."
They bowed in respect, then the taller of the two cleared his throat. "We respect the penalty, My King, but we petition the court: is there not a bigger crime to be judged? Our father," the dwarf stopped, his voice breaking in grief, and he gestured toward his father's body. "Our father lies here dead, victim of a rockslide intentionally set by this…" he looked in great disgust at the group from the Grey Mountains. "Rabble. We petition the court to try these criminals for murder."
Fili held up a hand. "The court agrees. We will judge your petition." He looked to his guard. "Call Prince Kili, Commander of the Erebor Guard, and the archer Skirfir, of the second division, as witnesses. Call also Lord Rathsvith of the Grey Mountains, King of Ered Mithrin."
Guards saluted and court attendants scurried about. Those watching the proceedings muttered in speculation.
After several consultations that took far more time than usual, one of the attendants stepped forward and bowed.
"Lord Rathsvith is reported infirm," he stated. "He will be brought down, but it is said he is represented now by his cousin, Lord Aurvang."
Fili remained expressionless, guessing exactly where they would find this Lord Aurvang. "Bring him forward."
His guess correct, Fili watched as one of the heavier dwarves in the Grey Mountains group was brought forward from his hiding place behind the others.
And then, through the side entrance, the King's Guard escorted two newcomers: Prince Kili in his courtly robes and Prince's circlet, limping slightly and looking pale, though no one except for a few knew that the reason was anything other than a minor leg injury. Behind him came a younger dwarf in simpler archer's uniform, using crutches, one leg heavily bandaged and splinted.
A stone bench was brought forth for the young archer to sit. Fili approved, as it also made a perfectly reasonable excuse for his brother to sit as well. Fili could tell that neither of them should be up and about. He vowed to move the proceedings along and see them back to their beds.
Then Lord Rathsvith was carried in on a stretcher, looking completely unconscious. The crowd of onlookers murmured in concern.
Fili gestured for his court's senior physician to attend the unconscious King.
And then the questioning began in earnest. First he prompted Prince Kili for his report about the rockslide. Kili covered the basics, then relayed that the young archer Skirfir, only survivor of the incident well enough to appear, was witness to the individuals seen on the mountain at the source of the slide.
Skirfir was able to point out three dwarves among the Grey Mountains group. "These three, My Lord," Skirfir said, indicating Aurvang and two others. "No mistake."
Skirfir was excused to return to the infirmary. Kili remained.
"My Lord," the senior physician called for permission to speak.
Fili nodded.
"Ered Mithrin's King has been poisoned." The physician touched the King's lips, then held up a finger stained purple. "Omrid Potion."
The crowd watching the proceeding erupted in shock and hushed chatter. Omrid potion could be very deadly in the right dose—and only the lowest traitor would dare use it...
No wonder Rathsvith had needed to be propped up at the opening ceremony, Fili mused. Seems his condition is more than old age.
High overhead, the ravens darted back and forth in agitation.
One flew down to the throne, screaming his anger.
Fili launched himself from the dais and strode to the side of Ered Mithrin's King to see for himself. Regicide was a crime that all seven Kingdoms took seriously. They had to. For the life of a visiting King to be threatened inside Erebor? Unacceptable.
Representatives from the other kingdoms stepped forward to see as well. In the audience, people stared in shock.
Fili ordered that the visiting King be taken to the infirmary for treatment and that guards be posted to ensure his safety. Two advisors from the Iron Hills accompanied them.
Then he spoke softly with old Jothro from the Iron Hills, pondering which crime had precedence for judgment when a small fight broke out between the three lasses in the group from the Grey Mountains. Apparently one was attempting to lay blame on two of the others in hopes of being judged innocent herself.
The King's Guard separated them, revealing several vials of the offending potion in the skirt pocket of Yngvli's younger daughter. She cried her innocence, calling for Aurvang to help her.
And that was when Lord Aurvang simplified matters by drawing steel on the King of Erebor inside his own Halls.
He faced Fili, double-edged broadsword in his hands. "A curse on the House of Durin," he shouted. "Conspirators!" Then he added an insult in Khuzdul that sounded more orc-like than dwarf.
Fili stepped clear of old Jothro, genuinely welcoming the challenge to a fight. Here, finally, was a crime he could clearly punish.
"I call for your blood," Aurvang snarled. "And the blood of all your children!"
The King's Guard looked to Kili and Dwalin, but both remained glowering and motionless. The Guard stood still.
The King could fight his own battle.
Fili took two steps away from the others, gaining fighting space. "For what reason?" he called to Aurvang. "What has the House of Durin done to you?"
Aurvang gripped his sword. "You supported Gondor in the war. You still support them!"
Fili took three more steps. "And you supported Mordor, is that it? You don't like that the world has changed, Aurvang. But it has."
"Has it? We ten," he jerked his head at the others. "Have managed to stop Gondor's treaty." He snorted, baring his teeth like an orc. "I say this: the legions will rise again."
Fili slowed his steps and faced Aurvang squarely. "And the House of Durin will always stand firm against them."
Aurvang laughed, advancing one step toward Erebor's King. "Then you will pay."
"The sentence, Aurvang," Fili called out in a loud voice that all could hear. "For drawing steel upon the King inside Erebor is death."
Aurvang scoffed. "You stand there weaponless!"
Fili, Son of Durin and King Under the Mountain, unsheathed his twin swords from their concealed sheath with a metallic shoosh.
"Never," he said, holding both at the ready.
Aurvang growled and raised his broadsword to strike, his face red and angry.
Fili, King of Erebor, easily parried seven strikes from Aurvang, who clearly felt confident in his attack. Yet it was apparent to all that the Stonefoot lord was no match for a Son of Durin. Like a trainee instructor, Fili was letting the lad try his hand.
And the lad was serious. He raised his sword for an eighth stroke, a backhand. "I'll have your head," Aurvang declared, but as he swung, Fili simply stepped back and let the lad over-balance. Aurvang recovered, glaring his frustration. "And then…" he roared. "I'll have the heads of all your kin!"
On the sidelines, both Kili and Dwalin raised eyebrows in doubt.
Fili clearly decided he'd had enough and took the advantage, stepping in with a series of relentless downstrokes from both swords. Aurvang struggled to parry, stepping back so quickly as he did so that he nearly stumbled over his own feet. The clashing of swords rang in rapid cadence until, with one sideways swipe, Fili sent Aurvang's sword flying. The onlookers gasped, then went still and silent as the sword slid with a metallic skid halfway across the hall.
Aurvang took two more steps back...shaking his empty sword hand as he panted and gasped for breath.
Fili stalked forward, swords at the ready, his expression hard as stone.
Aurvang lowered his head with a growl, and then a small fighting axe was in his hand and he looked ready to charge.
Fili didn't give him the chance—his eyes flashed at this final insult and his twin blades whirled smoothly in three strikes: one knocked the offending weapon from Aurvang's hand in a spray of blood, the other struck Aurvang upside the head with flat of the blade. Aurvang's head went down and to the left, and Fili spun, bringing his first blade around to the exposed back of the Stonefoot's neck.
It hit with precision and a solid, audible chop to the vertebra where neck met spine.
Aurvang collapsed to his knees, then sideways to the floor like a limp puppet.
After a moment, Fili put a boot on the traitor's shoulder to free his blade and rolled him to his back, neck clearly at an unnatural angle.
Aurvang lay dead...his axe hand crushed and broken, and a small pool of blood seeping from the gash where the King had neatly severed his spinal cord.
Fili pinned his gaze on the rest of the Grey Mountains people before him, steel in his blue eyes.
"Anyone else?" he asked, barely containing his fury.
To a person, those gathered in the halls were silent. The Grey Mountains people stood stone still.
Guilty. The whole group.
"Hear now my sentence," he said to them. "You are ejected for eternity from the Mountain and the lands of Erebor," Fili's anger and disgust made him sound more like his Uncle Thorin than he knew. "By decree." He was done with the law of it, and he could decree anything he damn well wanted. He turned and strode back to his throne, thrusting his swords at an assistant for cleaning.
Then he turned and addressed those in the Hall, speaking loud and clear. "Be it known to the Guard of Erebor that any of these seen returning to our lands shall be executed on sight," he ordered. He turned back to the nine remaining criminals. "All rights and privileges are revoked. You have one hour to be on the road."
"My lord," someone demanded. A female voice. It was Yngvli's older daughter. She pushed through the others and rushed forward, backed hesitantly by Yngvli himself.
"What about me?" she called out. "I am innocent, and I have made a marriage proposal that has been before you for over a week." She hiked her skirts up and walked toward the King, her indignation clear.
A moment later Fili had a wicked-looking long knife in his hand, having drawn it in sheer anger. He'd had enough of these idiots.
The lady stopped as if suddenly aware that her own neck could be at risk.
"You're no innocent," he growled, his temper barely in check, his voice rising. "You're part of a rabble that has threatened the lives of two kings today." He paused. There were shocked murmurs in the crowd, but no one would take her part, not now. She was a criminal and a manipulator and unworthy of a place among true dwarves.
"Your petition," he went on, spelling it out for her. "Is a revoked right and privilege included in the category of all." He glared at her, unabashed that his response labelled her an idiot, being in no mood to suffer a fool.
With that he gestured to Kili and stalked out through the King's Door. He trusted the Royal Guard to enact the decree and send the group packing. He knew they would tail them, reporting back on their movements. He even knew that Gloin would ensure Yngvli handed over the 50,000 coins before departing.
But he stopped, just inside the private passage, sheathing his long knife and waiting for his brother to catch up.
His glare was stern enough to warn the guard escorts back, and it even frightened his pages, who took off at a run.
Kili limped up beside him and Fili put his arm around his brother to help him along.
"I'm all right," Kili insisted quietly.
"You were swaying where you sat," Fili groused. "I could see it from the corner of my eye. Damn distracting."
And together they walked the distance back to the King's quarters in silence.
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A/N: Thank you for reading! If you're new to this story, welcome aboard! To readers I know, waving hello! Feel free to drop me a line and let me know that you're reading. Currently posting one chapter per week on Sundays. Hand on heart, Mellyn! -Summer