kíli (sonofdurin) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2015-01-10 22:51:00 |
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Her mind could not, would not rest in this realm. There was too much to understand, and while she was a quick learner, Tauriel knew there was a lifetime to learn here on Earth. The Eldar need not sleep, though the dwarf did. She often feared that he would disappear under her nose, that the cube which brought them here would realize its mistake and take him away. When he slept in the room he was given, Tauriel felt it her duty to stand guard. She'd done it every night since their arrival. Tonight was no different, though Kìli did not snore this evening so it was much more difficult to tell if he was breathing. She moved herself to the window nearest the bed. There, her elf ears could pick up the slightly rough breathing without needing to stand over him. Tauriel faced the window, squinting into the night sky in hopes that she might see the stars and find their place in this world. But there was too much pollution, too much metal, and what sky she could see was harshened by the lights from the city that did not sleep. Tauriel wrapped her arms across her stomach. With so much to figure out about this world and their place in it, it came to no surprise to Kíli that he was often weary at the end of each day - and often reluctant to give his mind and body a chance to rest. There was too much to figure out and not enough hours in the day for everything he wanted to do, now that he had an opportunity. This world was a second chance for him in every possible way, and he didn't want to waste a second. His body, however, had other ideas. It hadn't been long since Tauriel had healed him from the poison, and he'd seen battle shortly after that. What he needed was to not launch himself head-first into a new world. Kíli was stubborn, though, and changing his mind wasn't an easy task. The other problem was he wanted to spend as much time with Tauriel as he could, and sleeping didn't exactly count in his mind. They were already well into a week and a few days together (mostly alone, he noted more than once), but it would never be enough for him. Knowing what his - their - future had in store, every second was a blessing. A memory jarred him from his dream and he blinked, bleary-eyed. The room was still dark, so he knew it wasn't quite morning, and he could see a silhouette against the window, motionless as a statue. "What --" There was only one person who'd be in his room, but why? "You took a wrong turn if you were looking for the bath." His voice was still rough with sleep, but there was a light-hearted, teasing inflection to it. "Maybe try the next door." The elf snapped out of her reverie of stars and fire moons at the sound of his voice. Not much took the captain of the elven guard by surprise, so when it did, it seemed very out of character. Tauriel turned suddenly and stared at the dwarf, slightly open-mouthed with wide eyes. "Kìli..." She could be quick on her feet if she so chose to be, but it hadn't even occurred to her to make some sort of excuse. She had to be on her guard in the halls of the Wood-elf King, but here, there were no orcs and no king to side-step with every pass. There weren't even duties here that she could fall back on when she needed to get away. (That hadn't happened yet.) "I did not mean to wake you. I -- " She lowered her head and stepped toward him, out of the moonlight. "I could not hear your breathing from the other room. I need to -- I wanted to know that you were all right." "You didn't wake me." No, something darker and more foreboding had - but he shook his head, trying to shake his dreams from his mind. He pushed himself up, peering at her through the darkness. He didn't need any more light to see the surprise on her face, or hear the emotion that made her voice waver. He thought he would die happy if only she would stay in his room every night. If only her cause for watching over him like this hadn't been his death. Kíli wanted to reach out for her and soothe her worries, but he hesitated. He'd been careful to be proper with her, to not cross boundaries he didn't know existed, to give her space and not overwhelm her with emotional outpourings of affection, so he waited, just a moment. "I'm right here. Where do you think I'll go?" He paused and wrinkled his nose. "Tell me I wasn't snoring." "No, you weren't snoring," Tauriel answered with a soft chuckle. She shrugged a shoulder, tilting her head toward the shoulder and adding, "This time." She moved closer to him though she was careful not to step so close to the bed that it would seem impertinent or lewd. Being in his room was cause enough for talk, if there was anyone there to talk. Still, Tauriel didn't want to behave as the Unwilling, tossing everything she'd learned to the wind simply because she was in a new place that wasn't bound by her King's rules. Still, she spoke her mind. If they were in Middle-Earth, perhaps she would have kept this to herself, no matter the circumstances. "You are... danger-prone, and I have no way to protect you from the whims of this magical cube, Kìli. I could not bear it if you disappeared. It would be as if you died all over again. Once was more than enough." If he could take her fears away from her, he would, in an instant. If he could reassure her somehow that she had done all she could and she ought to take peace in that, Kíli would. An ache in his chest told him that mere words wouldn't be enough. Her duty, he realize, wasn't just to protect the realm of the elves nor the realm of man they found themselves in. It was almost as though she'd sworn an oath to protect him. It was still astonishing that it was even possible, that someone like her would care at all about the likes of him. Quietly, he rose from the bed to take her hand. "I cannot promise I'll stay," he began, a frown flickering across his features, "not this time, as we don't know what this cube has in store for us, but know it would not be by choice. You'll protect me, as you always have, from whatever dangers lurk out there." He nodded towards the window. He imagined there were a great many dangers in that city, ones they had never seen before. "What more can you do? What more can either of us do?" Tauriel felt her throat swell with emotion, looking down at this dwarf who had somehow captured her heart. She would not consider herself cold or distant, but her duties kept her busy enough that she had not really begun to consider a betrothal. In another world, had she not met Kìli, she might have let the friendship she felt for Legolas grow into something more. She reached her hand, softer than one might think given her position, to cup his jaw just under his ear. This was more intimate to her than she had ever let herself express, and it was clearly costing her something. "I will protect you with my life, meleth nîn, but I will always fear that you will be taken away from me again." His eyelids fluttered, and Kíli leaned into her hand. When he'd confessed his love to her on the beach, his heart had been hammering in his chest like a war drum, desperate and fearful. Hearing his words echoed back at him made his heart feel like it was going to leap from his chest and begin to soar. He struggled to contain his smile as he looked up at her. "I don't know what that means," he lied (and not very well, at that). The way his eyes crinkled and his hand trembled gave it away. With his other hand, he reached up, mimicking her movements. She was taller, but not so tall he couldn't reach her face and touch her cheek with tentative fingertips. "And I you." For a brief moment, fear ran through Tauriel. She'd said too much. What if Legolas or Thranduil arrived in this realm? Such a confession was something she could not take back, and breaking it would kill something inside her. This wasn't some middle of the night confession (no matter that it was the middle of the night) to be taken back by morning. More important, she didn't want to, but this flew in the face of everything she knew. Everything she'd been raised to believe. Under pretense of making things even between them, she sat down on the edge of the bed, but really, her knees were weak. The sudden memory of holding his hand to her lips in Ravenhill came unbidden. "I stand watch. At night. I make sure that you're still breathing." She attempted something of a smile. "It's easy; you snore. You did not snore tonight. For an instant, I thought I'd lost you again." Where her smile was tenuous, his threatened to split his face open. He laughed, open and deep, and brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles lightly. "I'll do my best to snore more often, in that case. Wouldn't want to frighten you." As light-hearted as his tone was, he really did mean what he said. He didn't want to her to worry about him and what kind of danger he might get into. Silently, he made a promise to be better and sat down beside her, closer than he'd ever dared to yet. "You can stay with me tonight. And every other night. If you want to." As soon as he'd said it, he wondered if she would take it like he wanted her to stay with him, and he didn't want to scare her off. Courting her was different than anything he'd ever known, and none of the stories he'd ever heard would apply now. She wasn't a dwarf, and he didn't know any of her customs. "I don't mean -- not that I think you, I mean --" He closed his eyes tightly for a moment, sorting out his words, and sighed. "I don't mind you watching over me. That's all I mean." It was a strange sensation, his lips on her fingers, and not unwanted. Still, strange none the less. No one had ever done that, not even her parents when she was but a little thing. There was something warming and intimate about it, and she felt color creep onto her cheeks from it. Elvish customs of courting were much different than those of men or dwarfs. Tauriel had read about courtships in this realm, and the very idea of extramarital and casual sex rendered her as confused as a hobbit in a line of elven warriors. The act of sex was considered marriage to her people. The very act itself was considered union between two souls. It was not given or taken lightly. One person's affection or love for the other could destroy them if it was not returned. It had to be taken seriously. "Does it not strike you as odd?" She took both of his hands in hers. "Are there terms we could come to as an agreement to make it not as uncomfortable for you? Shall I stay in the shadows?" “Terms?” Kìli cocked a quizzical brow at her, trying to figure out what she meant and how he was meant to respond. If they’d both been of the same race, there would be terms to their arrangement. There would be rules to follow for something as serious as the love he felt was, and he knew what would have been expected of him as a dwarf, as a prince. He didn’t know how those same rules applied now, except that they had already broken a half dozen. As it stood, he didn’t know what to call their love, mostly because it was bigger than anything he’d ever known. He wanted to laugh, but he didn’t. He smiled fondly and looked at his hands, big and brutish compared to her slender ones, and he wondered how they could possibly fit together when they were so different. All he knew was that they did, because of and despite their differences. And, maybe, because they weren’t so different after all. “I don’t want you in the shadows.” That much he knew. He couldn’t stand the thought. She belonged in starlight, or bathed in the bright light of the moon, or in the warm glow of the sun, but not in the shadows. Not in Erebor, he reminded himself, but then he didn't belong there anymore either. “I’d have you here with me, but…” He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but that was what he wanted: to have her close. He knew his kin would have mocked him if they could - a dwarf wanting an elf to look after him, even if she was a warrior? He shrugged. “What do you want?” Her duties bound her to Mirkwood and Mirkwood was sick. She had vowed long ago that she would spend her days driving the evil from their woodland realm. That would be her task, and there was no shortage of evil. Tauriel had not expected to to fall in love so soon in her lifetime. She had not expected to fall in love at all. She did not know how to reconcile what her heart wanted with that promise. Even in this world, she felt torn. She knew what she felt for the dwarf before her, but everything else about this place was strange. There was no small sense that this world was wrong, that if this was the world of men, it was for the best that the elves left for the Undying Lands. Still, there was something magical about the way men made up for their lack of magic. It would take some getting used to, but Tauriel hoped to learn more. "I want you to get some sleep," she whispered, giving his hands a gentle squeeze and then glancing over his shoulder toward his pillow. "You have had a troubling fortnight, and you need all the rest you can get." “I’m --” he began to insist that he was fine, that she needn’t worry, but in his heart, he knew she was right. It had been a troubling fortnight. He’d gained her love and lost her almost in the same breath (and gained it back, he reminded himself). He’d seen his brother slain, a sight which he knew would be burned into his memory for as long as he lived. There was an emptiness in his chest that he knew would never go away. It would fade, but he would always feel the empty space beside him and remember. And Thorin… though he hadn’t seen it, the knowledge alone was a weight he’d carry with him. He wasn’t exactly fine, but Kíli didn’t want to say it outloud and make it real. “I’m not tired anymore,” he told her. “And I can always sleep later.” Now that he was awake, he wanted to be with her. “Can you see any stars from here?” he asked, glancing away from her finally to look at the window. He wondered if she missed them like he missed the feel of stone and earth under his feet. He looked away from her, but Tauriel did not look away from him. She memorized his profile, the wisps of hair that framed his face, the lines around his eyes that told her he spent a lot of his time laughing and smiling. She had not had an unhappy life, but it wasn't full of such mirth or warmth. She wondered what it must have been like. The lives of dwarfs and elves were so different, Tauriel wondered if there was a way for them to meet somewhere in the middle or if this was a foolish endeavor. "No, not especially. There is too much smoke and light to see much beyond the sky," she answered. She wasn't sure what prompted her, but she reached out and brushed his hair behind his ear. It was softer than she'd imagined. The gentle touch sent a shiver down his spine that he couldn't conceal - didn't even really want to, as shy as it made him feel. Imagining how something would feel was vastly different than actually experiencing it; the reality was far better. He turned to look at her again, overwhelmed by a desire to kiss her - not for the first time. But for the first time, he thought he wouldn't be too out of line if he did. He reached up to cup her cheek, wishing he had the right words to explain what was going through his head, but he'd never been a poet. Cautious, he leaned forward and pressed a soft - and chaste - kiss to the corner of her mouth. "We'll leave the city sometime," he whispered, "go somewhere we can see the stars and the moon. Not for good." Though he would've run away with her in an instant, he knew she'd been right when she told him they needed to stay in the city in case his family arrived. If Thorin or Fíli arrived injured, they'd need him. "But for a night or two. That way you can see them." Tauriel only kissed his lips once, and she regretted that it had been after the battle, after his death. No warmth could be found, only the harsh, coldness of death lingered there. Her tears fell on his cheeks then, a silent prayer that perhaps there was some way she could give her life for his. The harsh winds of Ravenhill replied in answer; there was no way. She had such a long life ahead of her, so long without him. The very thought turned her blood cold. "This is nothing new. I have spent my life beneath the thick blanket of Mirkwood." She thanked the Valar that it was too dark for him to see the way her cheeks flushed, but she was sure he could see the tiny smile she now wore. Tauriel got to her feet and tugged the corner of the blanket so that he could crawl beneath it with ease. "This can wait until the morrow. You must sleep. For my peace of mind, if no other." She hadn’t pulled away or pushed him away, and though it was dark, he could have sworn there was a smile on her face. Kíli felt the loss of her immediately, his heart aching even though she was still in the room. He took comfort in her smile, preserving that - along with how soft her skin was and how her hair still smelled like the forest - to his memory. That, he decided, was a very good start. They might not have as much time as he would have wanted, but he knew that if only he could be patient with her, patient and steady and constant, she might kiss him next. “Yes, my lady, anything for you.” Though there was a mischievous glint in his eyes, his words were sincere, and he swung his legs back up on the bed obediently. With Tauriel there, he’d be able to rest easy. He’d be safe from the horrors of this world and the ones that haunted his mind. “You’ll stay close?” The corner of her mouth curled upwards. She turned and pulled the chair closer to the bed. One day, she may even tire enough to fall asleep in this chair. Though she'd been caught, she was glad that he was not upset with her for checking in on him. In fact, there was something relieving about it. Perhaps she might meditate. "I'll be right here for as long as you wish." Tauriel sat down and folded her hands in her lap. "Shall I tell you an old elvish tale to help you fall asleep?" “Make it a good one,” he joked as he nodded his head and got comfortable in the bed. He didn’t know much about elves beyond what Thorin had to say and the few things he’d seen with his own eyes, which he knew wasn’t the full story. Tauriel was nothing like the elves he’d always heard of, after all. Kíli would never turn down the chance to hear more about her people, because that told him more about her. And, he thought with a smile, he’d never turn down the chance to hear her voice. The soft lilt put him at ease, and as he listened and drifted off to sleep, all of the worries, all of the pain and heartbreak he had carried over from their world faded away. |