A.N.: Hello, dearest readers, thank you so much for not throwing too much stones at this poor bard. As promised, no delays, yet I can't promise a very happy end of chapter…
Special thanks to Mizz Alec Volturi, Celebrisilweth, Salwyn77 and The Other Writer Girl for the continued support and new readers Witch named Anna, and Irish Hermit, welcome!
=^.^=
"Mahal smite me!"
Kíli cried, hitting the ground with his fists as hard as his sobs hit his chest.
He was a murderer, a bloody murderer, someone who took advantage of someone's weakness to fulfil his own desire.
Tilda's glassy eyes turned to forest green and her hair caught a sun gleam that turned it to auburn. Her breast heaved a deep breath before it fell still again, a well known voice inside his brain.
"You didn't kill me, amrâlimë."
Tauriel was bleeding in front of him, her blood soaking the ground, the light of the stars leaving her eyes.
"But you died! You died because of our love… You didn't have to…"
The whole scene of Bolg almost stabbing him when he was too hurt to react and Tauriel jumping in front of him and taking the hit instead flashed in front of his eyes. Legolas finished the orc, but Tauriel was… gone.
"Of course I had to. Because I'm a warrior. Or would you not do the same for me, or for your brother, or for the lesser of the peasants of your kingdom? Wouldn't you do it… for the child of a foreign bargeman?"
Kíli didn't have to think hard to agree with Tauriel's spirit.
"You know I would."
She spoke once more before the coldness of gems replaced the fire of her life.
"Your love doesn't kill the ones you love, Kíli. Don't be afraid to love again, and to love more."
"But… But it would be… disrespectful to you…"
"Kíli…" Her voice was soft and distant. "Do you deem me so greedy that my heart can't take in someone as sweet as Tilda?"
"No! No, I…"
He was confused, but confused by Tauriel's words was better than overwhelmed by Tilda's blood. Which is to say…
His eyes flashed from a vanishing Tauriel to a very young Tilda, a ragdoll in her hands and no stain to any of her. He propped his hands on his knees to be eye level with the human child.
"I can't… I could never… Tilda… Just a child… No…"
Tilda left the doll be and took Kíli's hands. There was no trace of tear or bruise, and she smiled at him.
"Kíli, just look at me. I'm not a child anymore."
Her voice was steady, incongruous with her cries from not long ago. He stared, confused, at the stainless face, welcoming eyes, neatly braided hair instead of the mess he left her with his uncouth lust. Tilda touched his forehead, whipping away sweat and messy bangs.
"Thanks Ilúvatar you're awake at last. I don't know what you were trashing about, but it is over. I'm here, I'm all right, and I'm not a child. Don't worry."
Kíli tried to control his sobs, ashamed in so many ways it was hard to describe. Somehow, Tilda knew how to handle him, keeping eye contact as she carded his hair in a soothing way, mumbling assuring words.
"Shh… shh… Look at me, I'm here… It's all right… Look at me…"
"Tilda…" He sobbed, trying to make her understand his anguish, but too ashamed to explain it. "You were child…"
She giggled.
"Sure I was, Kíli. Ten years ago."
Her giggle, so incongruous with his nightmare, snapped him back to present time and place.
"Ten years ago. When we came to retake Erebor. When…"
"Shh… It's in the past. Look at me, now."
And he looked. And he saw.
There was a woman, not a child. Daughter of Men. Strong, in will and body. Stubborn like a dwarrowdam, if he ever knew one. Kind as an elf. As his elf. And despite everything his elf said in his dreams, he feared. Because that woman was beautiful, and Tauriel was right. He was afraid to love again. He was afraid to have her hurt because of him. And yet…
He leaned forward, crossing the few inches between them, and kissed her without thinking. Her lips were soft, warm, and welcoming.
Welcoming.
Her hands in his head, able to push him, to signal him to stop, only caressed, playing with his hair as if they had all the time in the world.
And they had.
They could spend the remaining time of their lives together. They could live with the woodsman as a married couple, none would know different from what they told them. They could build a little cottage in the forest, he could hunt and she could fish and they'd trade it for goods. He could even build a little forge and earn coin from this craft. It would be hard work at first, but they were young, and they were free, and they could do it, together. They could cuddle in front of the hearth in winter, sharing a good conversation, a meal, and warmth. And when they were tired of the day, they could just bank the fire and go to bed. They could…
"No!" Kíli broke the kiss with a cry, jerking away from her. "I cannot, I'll hurt you, Mahal, what have I done?"
Tilda looked at him wide eyed with surprise.
"Kíli, it's all right, you did nothing wrong!" She tried to assure him, confused by his reaction.
"No, I'll hurt you, I know I'll hurt you, I shouldn't have…"
He simply couldn't hear her protests.
"Kíli, I wanted it too!"
She tried to argue, but he was deaf to anything but her cries in his nightmare, and actually kissing her, and knowing he wanted more, scared him to death. The eyes that pleaded with him to calm down only reminded him of the eyes that pleaded for her very life in his nightmare, and he panicked.
"What have I done? Mahal, what have I done?"
Kíli whispered to himself as he stepped back, away from her, in his illusion of protecting her from his presence. She would never be safe with him around. All he brought to the ones he loved was disappointment, pain, and death. She would be better off…
Tilda took a step forward, a tentative hand reaching out as if in an offering of peace. Throwing a snake in his direction would have had a better result.
He ran away.
Kíli ran away, the thunder of his heart drumming in his ears muffling the sound of her voice calling him.
"Kíli! Kíli, what's wrong?" She pleaded, confused. "Kíli, come back, please!"