kíli (sonofdurin) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2015-02-04 21:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, kili, tauriel, thorin oakenshield (movies) |
Who: Thorin Oakenshield, Kíli & Tauriel
When: Monday, February 2
Where: Sam’s
What: Most awkward conversation ever.
Rating: G?
Few things worried Kíli as much as the chance that he might disappoint his uncle did. He could stand up to mountain trolls with only a sword to protect him, he could ride far above the ground on the back of an eagle, he could face down orcs to defend his birthright and his loved ones, all without fear. Standing up to his uncle -- and king, but it was Uncle Thorin that Kíli had always cared most about -- was another matter entirely. Kíli could barely remember his father. He’d been raised on countless stories, but the older he got, the more distant his memories became, and the more confused they were with the stories he’d heard. Kíli often wondered if Thorin would have had such a strong presence in their lives if their father had lived. In their father’s absence, their uncle had raised them. He’d taught them everything they knew about their history, about how to fight, about strength and honor and duty. In his brother, Thorin had an heir: steady and true, honorable and compassionate. In Kíli, Thorin had a rebel who led with his heart, reckless and sometimes careless but always brave. He hadn’t been born in the mountain as so many who came before him had. He’d grown up with dirt roads under his feet and stars above his head and the rustle of wind in the trees. He wasn’t like the others, and he’d always known it, even if he hadn’t known how to put it into words. Kíli had only ever wanted to make Thorin proud, and now he doubted - not that how he felt was wrong, but that he would ever be able to be the dwarf his uncle wanted him to be, particularly when he stood next to his brother. What did the line of Durin need of a dwarf who prefered a bow to an axe, whose heart stirred not only for stone but for adventure and the unknown? Standing up to Thorin wasn’t an easy task, but Kíli knew when it had to be done. When Thorin had requested a meeting, Kíli immediately began to think about what he would say and how he would say it. He knew he wouldn’t back down -- he couldn’t -- but he didn’t want to make Thorin angry, either. He didn’t want to lose his uncle or Tauriel, especially not when he knew what their world had in store for them. This world was their future. They’d arrived early, because Kíli couldn’t sit still long enough to wait any longer, and he’d been fidgeting in his seat ever since. “What do you think he wants to talk to us about? What do you think he’s going to say?” he asked Tauriel, not for the first time, even though they both knew the answer to his first question. “Usually whenever Thorin wants to talk to me, it’s because I’ve done something wrong. Not that I think I have. I haven’t.” He could easily imagine what Thorin might think he’d done wrong, even if he disagreed, and the familiar feeling had crept in all the same. “I used to dread being summoned. But hiding always made it worse. Dwalin always found me.” The dwarfking did not intimidate Tauriel; there were few things that did. She had disobeyed her own king for this dwarf. There was nothing that Thorin Oakenshield could say that would sway her mind. The more Kíli squirmed and rambled on, the more certain Tauriel was that she needed to be the steady one. That meant using her wits and keeping a cool head. That meant sitting in the chair at the table that they had procured at this particular ale house. Though several of the inhabitants glanced in their direction. Either they thought the pair cosplaying, something that baffled her, or they were curious about the dwarf and the elf who had made their way into their establishment. Surely they knew that such meetings were not of the usual sort, and there could be violence. Bloodshed even. Tauriel hoped that Thorin had not brought any weapons with him. "Kíli, do not wear yourself thin with worry," Tauriel told him, reaching across the table. She held out her hand, palm up, for him to take. Perhaps that might soothe him somewhat. "We may perhaps sway him yet." “I…” Kíli turned his eyes to meet hers and huffed out a sigh. Her presence was like an anchor for him, grounding him and reminding him of what was really important in the world. It didn’t take much before his expression softened into a fond smile. “You’re right,” he murmured, looking suitably scolded for his doubt and insecurity as he took ahold of her hand and felt his fears begin to ease almost instantly. It wasn’t like him to feel so uncertain. Even when he couldn’t be sure of the outcome, he had always been able to trust himself to do what was right and to come out on the other side. His mother called him reckless, but Kíli saw himself more like someone who followed his instincts. His heart hadn’t led him astray yet. He didn’t want her doubting him, either, or interpreting his emotions as anything less than devotion for her and his uncle. He had been certain of how he felt when they spoke on the beach, and he was certain now. The only thing that made him pause now was that he was afraid he would be caught between his kin and the love of his life. “I hope…” He rubbed his thumb over the soft skin of her hand and wondered how someone so perfect and beautiful could love him in return. She was so different. “I hope he’ll be able to understand. You have my heart.” He lifted their hands and leaned in so he could press a kiss to her knuckles. “That is not going to change.” She felt herself soften at the gesture, as strange as it was. Her people were not a very tactile group. They did not clap each other's shoulders in congratulations or embrace one another in times of grief. Having met and touched Kíli, though, Tauriel was not certain why they shouldn't be. It was a comfort, having him there. Why shouldn't they allow themselves show to affection or care in that way? Her other hand cupped his cheek until she suddenly stilled. Just as it had on the beach, her back stiffened and her countenance took on an entirely formal tone. She glanced over Kíli's head to the wall behind him and then stood up. "He is here." Thorin had not spent all his time since he had last spoken to his nephew brooding over the situation. He well remembered what he had been told by the humans when he arrived - that he and his kin were fictional in this world, characters in well-loved tales. He also remembered well the brief but enthusiastic lessons his nephews had given him regarding the machines in his apartment. And so, when his brooding was fit to drive even him up the wall, he took those two facts and, after a fumbling start, converted them into something called a ‘google search’. That had yielded him a large number of baffling results but it had yielded him another thing - movies. Movies that were easily purchased and easily watched on the machines in his apartment. It had been decidedly odd to watch himself - or an actor playing himself with such uncanny exactitude - but the movies had shown him things he had needed to see, things he hadn’t know about at the time. The things that had passed between Kíli and Tauriel. Too much had been accurate down to the minute detail about the movies for him to deny their truth and that meant that he could not deny that his nephew’s feelings were genuine. Dwarves loved deeply and when that love turned to the one person they wished to spend the rest of their lives with… well, woe betide the dwarf trying to stand in their way, whether he be brother, father, uncle or even king. As his sister had reminded him many times before she married. He walked into the inn - Sam’s - and stood there for a moment, letting his eyes adjust and locating Kíli and Tauriel. After seeing all that he had, he could not - would not - stand in his nephew’s way and after viewing the movies… he understood more about Tauriel’s actions. She had known Kíli was injured, had followed them, fought to defend his dwarves and Bard’s children and when presented with the opportunity to heal Kíli, had done so without hesitation, defying her prince’s orders. Elves could often seem aloof to the point of coldness to dwarven eyes and to his eyes all the more so but even he could admit that if she hadn’t loved his nephew then, she had been well on the way to doing so. And he knew that elves loved as deeply as dwarves did. He walked over to where they were sitting and nodded once. “Kíli. Tauriel. I am pleased you have come.” Tauriel's voice had broken Kíli from his daze, and almost as quickly as he'd relaxed under her reassurance, the tension returned to his shoulders as it had returned to hers. If Kíli hadn't known better, he would have thought his uncle sounded almost eager to see them, by the way he'd requested to see them immediately, but he couldn't imagine his uncle being eager to see them together. What felt more likely caused Kíli's heart to ache. He hoped he was wrong. He stood, briefly, to greet his uncle and to make room at the table, placing himself by Tauriel's side and pointedly not in between the two. He briefly considered taking Tauriel's hand again, but hesitated only because he didn't know if she would be comfortable with that in Thorin's presence. Instead, he remained close. He knew he was taking a stand with his body language, but he wanted Thorin to understand that he was prepared to defend his heart, if he didn't already. Thorin's words took him off guard, and he looked at his uncle with confusion. Pleased? He was pleased, or was he being polite? "Of course we did," he answered simply. "You asked. I -- how could we say no?" It would have been easy to say no, but it would have been unlike either of them under the circumstances. Kíli wanted to know what his uncle wanted from them as much as he imagined Tauriel did. In an effort to break the ice, he continued with a shaky smile, "should I get us something to drink?" While Kíli made his voice heard, Tauriel simply stood and return Thorin's greeting with a slight lowering of her head, eyes down, before returning to a standing position. Her vocal greeting was lost among the other noises in the bar. The din of the place may have been soothing for the dwarfs, but elves preferred a quieter surrounding. The roar of a crowd did nothing to calm her, though she did not show it outwardly. She glanced to Thorin, allowing him to order first. If she wanted to make a good impression, then she needed to be considerate. That was something that she was sorely lacking when it came to most dwarfs. Most elves were less than ideal in a situation such as this. Thorin took in Kíli’s body language at a glance - fear, determination, defiance. It had been a long time since his nephew had been this uncertain around him and part of him regretted that he was the cause of it. He knew his nephew thought he understood but Kíli was young, too young to know the full depths of what drove his uncle. It was not a story either Fíli or Kíli had been told in its fullest. He knew his tales had always been full of courage and fighting or of the wonders of Erebor and not the depths of despair they been reduced to after the mountain had fallen. There had not been any reason to tell the boys about that. “Whatever passes for ale in this place,” he said dryly, looking around for a moment. It was certainly cleaner than any other human establishment he’d been in nor did it smell as bad. "I would prefer wine." Tauriel spoke up after Thorin had made his own request. She was not looking forward to being alone with the dwarf who would be king had it not been for the unfortunate outcome at Ravenhill. "Would you like me to accompany you?" "Please. I only have the two hands." His grin was bright, covering the turmoil he felt inside. He knew how to pretend everything was fine -- not well, but he could try. He inclined his head towards his uncle before stepping away, grateful that he'd already been in this establishment several times and knew what kind of drink they sold. He paid for the wine and two pints of a strong ale, barely exchanging a word with the elf beside him except to pay, though he glanced between her and Thorin frequently. There wasn't much to say yet, not with the cloud of uncertainty hanging over them. Luckily, it didn't seem to be too busy of a day in the pub, so they weren't gone long. When they returned, he set one pint down in front of Thorin before taking a seat again. "So, uh. You wanted to talk to us?" Thorin took a drink of the ale and raised an eyebrow. It was surprisingly good which provided one small mercy in what was undoubtedly going to be an… interesting conversation. He set the glass down on the table and looked over at his nephew and Tauriel. “I have watched these… movies we are from in this world,” he said bluntly. He’d always left the diplomacy and pretty words to Balin. They weren’t his forte. “The first two, at least. I did not doubt what you had both said to me but I needed to see for myself.” He looked away, out into the room, though he wasn’t seeing anything that was there. He was remembering the last time he’d seen an expression like the one that had been on Kíli’s face in Bard’s house after the healing. “Your mother looked at your father like that,” he said, his voice a quiet rumble. His expression was pensive. He had seen his sister at her happiest back then, even if he’d wanted to punch that idiot dwarf she’d married in the head. No one would have been good enough for his sister. But that was beside the point, that expression on her face was matched by the one on Kíli’s face when he had looked at Tauriel that day. “I can no more stand in your way than I could hers.” As she would have been quick to tell him. He now looked over at them. “You do not need my blessing but nonetheless, you have it.” For a long, quiet moment, Kíli could only stare at his uncle, wide-eyed. He had underestimated his uncle, and for that he was deeply ashamed. That feeling was overshadowed, for the moment, first by shock and then a wave of grief. It had been so long since anyone had talked about his father, or about how his parents were when they were both young and alive and in love. He wanted to ask if they'd been happy. If his mother had thought it was worth it, to love so much only to lose her husband so young. To lose everything. His smile was a little watery at first, but it was there, warm and grateful. As Thorin said words Kíli honestly never imagined he would hear, his smile widened. No, they hadn't needed his blessing, but as neither his mother nor his father were there, Kíli desperately wanted Thorin's blessing. "I… I don't know what to say." Kíli had prepared speeches in case he had to face Thorin's disdain or anger or disapproval. He didn't have anything for acceptance, however tentative. "That means more to me than I could ever say." She'd given Kíli speech after speech about patience. How many times had she implored him not to give into the worry. The irony was not lost on her that she knew there was relief evident in her body language and on her face. This was more than Tauriel had hoped for, when she hadn't hoped for anything. This was more than she had expected, despite her pleas. She could feel the beginnings of a smile stirring. The urge to take Kíli's hand grew stronger, but for Thorin's sake, she did not reach for it. "It is a relief and a comfort to know that you have given it." Though her tone was not as soft as it would have been with Kíli alone, but there was kindness there that was meant for the both of them. Thorin felt a surge of regret that his nephew had thought him so inflexible that he could not or would not change his mind. Tauriel’s relief he could understand. She knew little of him beyond what she had seen when they had been captured and, from what he understood, during the battle. And in those times, he had been angry or driven, impatient and unwilling to relent in either case. At least, so he assumed in the battle. He knew what he was like when they were at war. “As I said, I watched the movies. I needed to see for myself.” And he’d seen more than simply what had passed between Kíli and Tauriel and perhaps what he had seen there, with Gandalf, with his father, had put things into perspective. He, himself, had never felt the kind of love that his sister had, that his parents and, before the gold sickness had taken Thrór, that his grandparents had shared. He had no experience with that to draw upon but what he saw between Kíli and Tauriel matched what he had seen with his sister, parents and grandparents. He wouldn’t deny that he would have preferred that Tauriel was a dwarf but it was what it was. He turned to Tauriel, for this was more for her benefit than Kíli’s. Kíli was his family and would never be turned away. “You will always be welcome in my home and at my hearth.” At this, the smile that threatened the corners of her mouth manifested and the genuineness of Thorin's simple statement surprised her. She hoped that he could forgive her current state of emotional honesty. Tauriel inclined her head. "It gladdens my heart to hear, my lord, and I assure you that the welcome is quite mutual. It is my hope that in time, we shall come to be friends." The first thought that ran through Kíli's head was that he wished they could have had this conversation in their own world, that this - their love - could have been the start to repairing broken bridges and healing old wounds. But perhaps none of that would have been possible there, not without the knowledge that this world and its movies provided. "What she said." Whatever the sadness he felt, knowing the truth, was soothed by great joy, and Kíli couldn't keep that off his face, not anymore. He beamed widely across the table at his uncle, practically giddy as he looked from one to the other and back. This was the uncle he remembered from his youth, and and this was the king he had believed Thorin would be - and the king he'd seen when Thorin had finally shaken himself free of the grip that the gold had on him. "I shouldn't have doubted you," he admitted as his smile faded and was replaced with a look of apology. "I thought…" He shrugged, sheepish, and then finally reached for Tauriel's hand. "I was worried. And I was wrong. She's been tryin' to tell me that, only in a much nicer way than I deserve." He wasn't so proud that he couldn't admit when he'd jumped to conclusions, and he hoped Thorin could forgive him for that. With his free hand, he lifted his glass. "So… here's to family," his smile brightened again as he looked at Thorin, "and to new beginnings." |