kíli (sonofdurin) wrote in the100, @ 2016-04-15 19:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | !mount weather, !narrative, kili (movies) |
mount weather: kili
Who: Kili
When: Today, before Logan's post.
Where: Under the mountain where basically no one but dwarves would want to go.
What: Kili hears something suspicious.
Kili knew mountains. Even ones like this, where the stone and earth had been carved away and shaped into cold tunnels. Even ones like this, which looked nothing like the tall arching ceilings of Erebor, with its glittering pillars of gold and its intricate carvings everywhere an eye could see and beyond. Mount Weather, by contrast, was cold and barren, and while he never felt the same overwhelming sense of awe as he had the first time he stepped into his ancestral home, he knew the ground like it was part of him. The earth was in his blood. Legends said the seven fathers were forged in a hall deep under the mountains of Middle-earth. He was blood of the first, Durin the First. If anyone understood -- it would be them, his descendants. When his brother had been there, they'd spent hours exploring the deepest reaches of Mount Weather. He knew the access tunnels, he knew the air ducts, he knew the dark places few people ventured unless they needed to. He'd often wondered how they could expand underground; who better to do so than dwarves? He knew there was room to grow. He also knew many of their people weren't accustomed to living underground like he was. It was safe from the elements, however. It would do until they had another option. Since Tauriel and Thorin had disappeared, Kili split his time between building her tree house, helping Sera in laundry, forging weapons and mapping the hidden areas of the mountain. He rarely slept until he was too bone-tired to move anymore, which didn't happen often. Then - when he had pushed himself to exhaustion - he slept without dreaming. His dreams, otherwise, were plagued by nightmares of orcs and watching Tauriel die in his place and being lost in the darkness. That day was no different from the one before, or the one before that. If he kept himself busy enough, a new sort of ache would take over instead, dulling the pain in his chest. If he could just keep going -- Now he understood why some dwarves never took a bride, and why they focused their minds on their work instead. Now he knew. He placed a hand flat against the rock wall. He was deep under the mountain, where few but him ever went. Something was different. Something wasn’t right. He was not the only one there. The earth spoke to him - in the same way, he suspected, the trees spoke to Tauriel. He came from the earth and he would return to it when breath no longer filled his body; it was a part of him as it was every other dwarf. The earth hummed with activity, trembling and shaking, faint as it was. Outside Mount Weather, above ground, it was full of life. Down below, there should have only been darkness. Instead, the tunnel echoed with the sound of metal hitting rock, hands scratching, feet scrambling over the ground. They were not here, but they were close. He hissed through gritted teeth. "Goblins." Kili listened for a moment longer, eyes closed tightly so he could focus on where the sounds were coming from. Drums in the west. Wasn’t there smoke to the west, just the night before? A shiver ran down Kili’s spine, and he turned away in silence, his footsteps light and quick. The loathsome, vile creatures would not reach Mount Weather if he had anything to say about it. |