Helo, dearest readers, a bit more Kíli & Tilda, still oblivious of the searchers behind and the danger ahead.
Thank so much to always present Celebrisilweth, pallysd'Artagnan, salwyn77 and newcomers NixNix8, MissMisfitLove, ThatOtherWriterGirl, Symphytum, you all make my life great!
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Tilda had cleansed a good area of ground from leaves and twigs when Kíli came back with wood. The clean patch would grant them more comfort to sleep and, moreover, tranquillity that the fire wouldn't spread whilst they slept.
"This will last for the night." Said Kíli, dropping the wood on the ground. "And this will make a merry meal!" A pheasant was proudly pulled from behind his back, obviously killed by a precise arrow.
"Hmm, this will be tasty!"
Tilda smiled and sat down to pluck the feathers while Kíli kindled the fire. Funny how just a couple of days had been enough for them to settle a routine of mutual help and support, the dwarf mused.
"We'll make a good ride tomorrow after this rest."
"I hope so." She said, frowning. "Da must have sent patrols to hunt me, by now."
"He doesn't know where to seek you. Tracking takes time, and we'll use it in our favour."
"Won't your people be hunting you, too?" Asked the young woman, gathering the guts off the pheasant and discarding it with the feathers on a large leaf. "Is a prince of Durin's line so easily disposable?"
Kíli shook his head, adding wood to the fire, a shadow of sadness on his face.
"They probably will, because I'm someone they expect to fulfil a duty. My brother is crown prince, they don't need me, actually."
"Only to tie alliances, like me."
He heard the sadness in her voice and looked at Tilda with understanding.
"Aye, just like you."
Silence settled down, both of them gazing at the fire whilst the bird roasted, each one lost in thoughts of their own lives and family they left behind. Kíli shook his head, trying to shoo the sudden sadness away.
"It's getting chilly. I have a flask of liquor somewhere here." He rummaged through his pack whilst talking to his young traveling companion. "You know, the first thing I ever shot down was a pheasant? Thorin took me and Fee for an outing once, and I had gotten my first bow just some weeks before. It was around this season in the year and…"
The conversation flowed smoothly after this, the tension of being expected to be adult and responsible forgotten for the time being. But every now and then their talking slipped back to stories involving Sigrid, Fíli, Thorin, Dís, Bard or Bain, being impossible to talk about their lives without mentioning any of them. Fíli's little pranks and Bain's shenanigans made them laugh more than once, but soon it became plain that those memories would hurt more than amuse, at the prospect of not meeting them anymore.
"What will we tell the woodmen?" Tilda changed the subject, sad eyes set on the bonfire.
"Didn't figure out yet, but we have a long stretch of forest to ride until we're there. It takes a moon to cross it, we have more than a fortnight ahead of us, I'm sure we'll think of something that doesn't raise suspicions."
"Aye." She agreed with a smile. "Dale doesn't trade with them on a regular basis, so we can say anything and it will be fine, like, I'm a widow wanting to settle away from my former home and you are my servant."
"Your servant? Not very dignified for a son of Durin, no way!" He smirked back. "We can say I'm a retired merchant and you're my housemaid."
"Housemaid?" Tilda returned him a humpf. "Of course I know how to tend a house, or even to helm a demesne, but this doesn't make you my overlord. No, I'm a rich woman and you're my bodyguard."
"I'd have no problem guarding your body, but…" The realization of what else his words could mean hit him and Kíli wished his brain worked faster than his mouth at least for once. "No way, I'm a hunter and you… you're my cook."
"A simple cook? No way, I'm a barger and you're my shoreman."
"No, I'm a blacksmith and you're my apprentice."
"Hmm, this one sounds better, but no, too hot a work. I'm a weaver and you are my apprentice."
"Fabric isn't a thing that lasts like good smithery; so no, we dwarrow make things to last. I'm a masonry man and you're my brick layer."
"You think I'm a mule to carry so much weight? No, I'm a painter and you're my model."
"As if someone would wish to look at me any longer than necessary…" He scowled. "No, I'm the painter and you are my model."
"What's the problem with looking at you? You're a fine man to my eyes. So I'm the sculptor and you're my model."
"I'm not a man, I'm a barely bearded dwarf, and this isn't fine for a dwarf." He thought hard of some other idea to change the subject from his looks. "I'm a horseshoe maker and you work leathers."
"I'm a saddle maker and you make reins." Tilda didn't drop the subject, to Kíli's despair. "I'm not a dwarrowdam, so it doesn't matter what they think is fine. Now I'm a rider and you're my stableman."
"No, I'm the rider and you…" Kíli gulped down the fantasy that just hit his imagination. "All right, you're the rider and I'm your saddle."
The absurdity of the idea, in Tilda's mind, was enough for her to drop the dwarf appearance subject and to turn to a humorous banter. "We can't count on horses all the time, Kíli. I'm the walker and you're my staff."
The dwarf chocked on the idea of her holding his 'staff', and tried to find some neutral stuff.
"I'm your staff and you're my light."
"I'm your light and you're my heavy."
"Dwarf bones are quite heavy, true; you're my light and I'm your shadow."
"You're my shadow and I… I…"
Tilda failed to find a suited word to continue the game.
"You're my light." Kíli stated again.
"No, we used this word already, Kíli!"
The dwarf heaved a sigh.
"But it is true, Tilda. When I left Erebor I was all darkness in my anger. Then you came and brought light to me. Also, my heart stood heavy in my chest, and you made it lighter. So, you're my light, either way."
Tilda lowered her gaze, struck by his soft words.
"Then it isn't fair. You found such beautiful things to say and named yourself as being my shadow. You're so much more than a shadow, Kíli. So much more."
A sad smile reached the corner of his eyes.
"No, I'm not much more than a shadow, Tilda, not really. Not since I lost Tauriel. I do my duties to the kingdom, I war when I must, I attend meetings and I smile when I'm supposed to, but I'm just a shadow. My light has gone with her, and now I'm only a shadow of whom I was."
"Don't say such thing!" Her small hand found his dropped shoulder and squeezed it. "If this is only a shadow of yourself, Kíli, then I wish I could see you whole again, and I must say even the shadow of you is so much more than most people out there."
"Nah." He dismissed the praise. "I feel battered and old, Tilda, far beyond my age. These ten years after the reclaiming of Erebor feel like a hundred, weigh like a thousand. All I can hope is that my life ends swiftly and I can see Tauriel again."
"Kíli, no!" Tilda admonished, thinking fast for something to lighten him up. "You can't, if you… If you pass away, who'll help me reach the woodsmen? And… And you're my shadow, remember? Where will I rest from the sun if you're not here?"
Her effort was rewarded with a sad smile.
"You don't need my help, Tilda, you were heading there before we met, remember? You'll do just fine."
"Doesn't matter!" She insisted. "It might be true I was heading there already, but traveling with you is…" The young woman stopped to find the right word to describe what it was to travel with Kíli instead of alone, and it was hard. She didn't reason until then what traveling with him really meant. It was safer, of course, having someone to share night watches instead of sleeping with one eye open and the constant fear of being discovered by a searching party. But safer was kind of utilitarian, and not enough. Thinking of utilitarian, it was also healthier, as Kíli's hunting skill provided them with fresh meat more often than not, but health was not the reason she preferred to travel with him. Having his company meant she would have someone to talk to, and time passed so faster! It was also funny, Kíli had always a joke or the memory of a prank to tell and make her smile. But it didn't dissipate his somber moments, the sadness that showed in his eyes when he talked about Tauriel or the anger when mentioning the decision of marrying him away out of politics – an anger she shared, obviously. But to travel with him was not only for fun, or for sharing angers. It was more. So much more that it was hard to settle for just one word. "…Better."
All these thoughts ran across her mind in the fraction of a moment it took for him to turn his eyes from her down to the fire, and her last word brought his gaze back to her face.
"Better?"
Tilda smiled at the surprise she saw in his face, and had to supress the urge to reach out and stroke his cheek.
"Aye, better!"
"I think…" Kíli considered his own feelings on the last few days. "I think better is more than I… I think better sounds good."
Kíli smiled, and this time the smile reached his eyes, and it was not sad.