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The choice of the Heart
It was silent in Erebor without Thekk. Empty.
Kíliel cared less for the sounds of the Mountains, knowing that he was not down there working on his forging. And it infuriated her that nothing had seemingly changed. The people carried on like nothing was different, the bellows pumped, and the hammers struck so she could feel the vibrations through the floor as usual. Yet the Mountain was emptier for his absence. No one cared that Thekk was out there risking his life every day. Only she noticed that he was not there, standing by her side, making fun of what she said or did.
Her longing was unbearable.
Kíliel was angry at herself for how oblivious she had been to his importance to her and her life in Erebor. He had left, and she was stuck in the Kingdom that would one day be hers to command. And while she understood his reasoning, she resented him for leaving.
This day was like all days since he had left. She felt needless, and her work was slow.
Kíliel sat alone at her desk, formerly Thorin's desk, in her chamber. The chamber was cold, the embers glowing in the hearth of a dying fire. It was winter, mid-December, and even with the roaring fires of the forges in the heart of the Mountain, the walls were always cold. She tucked the fur cape closer against her neck and sighed so smoke came from her mouth. She thought of Thekk, and how he must be freezing out in the cold, or perhaps he had arrived at Ered Luin. She had heard no news, and it put her on edge.
A stack of papers laid in front of her on the table, the inkstand next to them, and a feather pen in her hand. No words. Her thoughts were blank. She only thought of him. A mere month had passed since Thekk had left, and Kíliel longed for him as she had never thought she would.
Now she was trying to write the invitations to the elves that she promised she would have finished as soon as possible. She cursed herself for having taken it upon herself to write them. It was her first official task as the heir, and she had to do it perfectly. For a month she had tried every day to write and failed, evident by the crumbled up papers strewn around her on the floor.
Kíliel forced herself to dip the pen into the inkstand, filled the tip, and carefully moved it to the top of the paper in front of her. She carefully tapped the pen to the paper, seeing the ink flow, making neat letters as she wrote. She lifted the pen and stared at the paper.
«'Legolas',» she breathed, reading the name she had written. He was all she could think of, him and Thekk. Her thoughts constantly found him ever since Thekk's departure. It seemed she had anxiety about bringing Legolas to Erebor, which confused her immensely, for she had all her life dreamed of nothing else. Once she had thought that she loved Legolas, but after her kiss with Thekk she did not know anymore. Could she love Legolas and Thekk both, in two entirely different ways? Was it possible? It was a dilemma without end.
Each time she thought of Legolas now, her dreamlike image of him, she instantly thought of Thekk, his realness to her, and her promise. She refused to give up her love for Thekk, she would prove that to him once he returned. But what then if Legolas was one day to come to Erebor? She feared what she would do, perhaps forget about Thekk completely, if she once again stood in Legolas' presence. She could not allow that to happen. But then, why not? Her feelings for Legolas felt no less real than her feelings for Thekk, and yet it was completely different.
She could not think straight, and she exhaled exasperatedly as a drop of ink fell from the tip of the pen where she had held it still for a long moment, her mind frantically trying to find a solution. She dropped the pen into the inkstand and leaned back in the big armchair.
The solution was easy enough; there was none. And so she did not want to write the letters. She did not want Legolas to come if it meant that she would break her promise to Thekk and herself.
Kíliel groaned and leaned forward, hitting her head against the paper. She sobbed theatrically a few times, before rising again and rubbing her face with her hands.
«It is hopeless!» She exclaimed and ripped the paper into a thousand pieces, scattering them behind her.
At that moment there sounded a knock on her door and she inhaled sharply, sitting up straight in fear that someone might have heard. She called uncertainly: «Come in,» and the door opened to reveal her uncle Fíli, standing there in all his Kingly might. He was dressed in a thick coat, which scraped along the floor as he walked. It was lined with fur, and the hood was made entirely of fur, with the face of a grand wolf at the end, so that when he wore it, the head of the wolf would fall in front of his face like the visor of a helmet. Now it hung low and flaccid on his back.
Kíliel scrambled to get to her feet and greet him as was custom, then lowered her face. She could not bear to look at him, when he smiled so proudly of her with his warm eyes, looking like the perfect King that he was. She sat back down.
«What is the matter, lass?» Fíli crossed the floor and stopped beside her. When she did not answer, he took her face in his hands and made her look at him.
«I am trying to write the invitations, but…» She stopped, and looked up into his kind face.
«I can see that,» he chuckled and rubbed his thumb against her forehead where she had gotten an ink stain from the paper. «And?»
«I cannot do it,» she muttered, tears gathering in the corner of her eye.
«And why not?» Fíli mused as he let go of her and took a stool to sit down in front of her on the other side of the desk.
«I just can't… I'll never be able to write them perfectly.»
«Who said they need to be perfect?» Fíli chuckled and tilted his head. «I think you're putting too much thought into it, lass. You are the Princess Heir, and when you stop trying to think, you'll know what to write. I am sure of that.»
«How do you know?» Kíliel whined and threw out her arms. «I am a hopeless Heir. If I can't even do this, then what kind of Queen will I be?»
«I know this because you are not like me, Kíliel,» Fíli began, his voice calm but serious, «I have known for a long time that you are a far more dedicated Heir than I was, and already more prepared for the task of ruling this Kingdom.»
Kíliel furrowed her brows in confusion. «What do you mean, uncle?»
«I mean that unlike me, you have always known that you are one day to become the Queen, and every decision you make is always focused on that goal.»
«That isn't true,» Kíliel shook her head and looked down. Fíli's eyes were intense, and she saw the truth in them, a truth she was not ready to face yet. A tear once again gathered in her eye, but she would not let it fall. «I do many stupid things all the time. And the rest of the time I do not even know what to do.»
«You think too much again,» Fíli chuckled and laid his hand on hers from across the table. «I only mean you needn't worry so much, and do not try to be perfect all the time. You don't have to be perfect to be Queen, Kíliel, you are the perfect Queen already.»
Kíliel squeezed his hand, feeling a tear leave her eye.
«And do not worry about the invitations so much either. There is no rush, so just do it when you know what to write. It will be better.» Fíli winked at her, and she giggled.
«Thank you, uncle,» she smirked and exhaled heavily as she leaned back in her chair.
There was a moment of silence between them, and as always it was a comfortable silence. Fíli was one of those people Kíliel was perfectly comfortable being silent with. They simply enjoyed each other's company and could spend hours sitting together silently, either reading or working on separate projects.
Finally, Fíli spoke again, his expression amused. «However, I am wondering if it is not just perfectionism that is keeping you from writing.»
Kíliel jerked up and met his gaze. Shock coloured her face white as she stuttered: «I do not know what you mean.»
«You are many things, lass, but a good liar is not one of them.» Fíli raised his brow and peered at her. «It is Thekk, is it not?»
Kíliel stared at the blank paper in front of her, refusing to give away her emotions.
Fíli smacked his tongue and chuckled. «You must know that the rumour has already spread throughout the Mountain. Will you not speak to me about it?»
«No,» Kíliel muttered coldly. She did not want to discuss it with anyone, not before she had made up her mind about how she felt about it. She would not give them the satisfaction in thinking that it was their doing that had made her fall for Thekk. She had yet to forgive her family for their lies.
«Why not?» Fíli's expression turned wondering, almost worried. «I may be able to help you with your troubles.»
«How?» Kíliel muttered through gritted teeth, before she looked up, and sternly met the gaze of her uncle. «What do you know about love?»
Fíli lowered his gaze and caressed his beard, exhaling before he met her gaze again. His eyes were filled with sadness, and Kíliel instantly regretted her words. She was obviously mistaken. The sorrow she saw in her uncle's eyes were like the kind she had seen in Thekk's eyes when he thought she did not care for him. It was a longing, hopeless look, and her heart beat harder for the things she now knew that Fíli had never spoken of. He had once been in love.
«I know of love and loss, Kíliel, and if my experience in any way may help you so you may not experience what I did, then I will gladly talk of it with you.»
«Forgive me, uncle,» Kíliel breathed. She walked around the table and sat down in front of him on the bench that stood in front of the fire. «I did not know. Please, will you tell me?» She grasped his hand and he met her eyes with a sad smile.
«It is not your fault you did not know, none but your father and grandfather knew, and yet I never even spoke to them about it. The pain was too great.» Fíli paused. «Will you not breathe fire into the hearth? It is too chilly in here.» He looked to her, and she jumped to her feet to do as he asked.
When the fire was eating away on new logs and Kíliel sat down beside her uncle again, Fíli cleared his throat and started speaking.
«You must understand that this was a long time ago. I was naught but a young dwarfling at the time, younger than you even.» His eyes shone in the light from the fire, glazed with memories of a time long since past. «Me and Kíli had just started traveling with Thorin, working as mercenaries, helping tradesmen deliver their cargo between the Dwarven realms. I don't remember staying anywhere for longer than a few weeks at the time. It was a great time for us, getting away from our mother and seeing the world. We only ever wanted to travel with Thorin, Kíli and me, and finally we were allowed.» Fíli chuckled of the memories.
Kíliel felt honoured to be allowed to share this with her uncle. Most stories she had of her father and uncle's childhood were stories Kíli and Thorin had told her, and they were only ever cheerful and carefree, adventurous and exciting. This was something else entirely, something she could possibly relate to, and bring her even closer to her uncle.
«I remember it so clearly, seeing her the first time,» Fíli sighed, his eyes long gone in the dancing flames, «She was the first lass I'd met that were not much older than me, and I was instantly captured by her sweet, kind little face, by the strength and yet frailty of her body, and her voice, so melodious and clear as if spoken by a young mountain goat. Her hair was fair like my own, and when our eyes met across the greeting hall of Orocarni, my fate was set, and I think she knew it because she walked straight up to me and introduced herself. She was Hera, grand-daughter of the King. I was so dumb, I couldn't speak a word. I only stared at her. And when Thorin called for me, I stumbled in my own legs and went sprawling right in front of her. I can still remember the ringing of her laughter, like the sound of silver bells.»
Fíli chuckled, and rubbed his brows, still embarrassed for the memory.
Kíliel was like enchanted by his story. She could see it all so clearly in her mind, and giggled at the image of her kingly uncle lying flat on the ground in front of a princess, his face probably turned bright red like the mountain flower of autumn.
While the fire steadily ate its way across the logs, Fíli continued telling of Hera, and how they got acquainted over the two weeks he spent in Orocarni. This was incidentally also the time he managed to set fire to Altar's beard, who resided in Orocarni with his son, long before Aín was even born. Fíli cringed when he thought of Altar's rage and his own fear of the dwarf.
«I think he only forgave me when I finally became King,» Fíli barked a laugh, «And it pleases me immensely to push him on it, even now, almost a hundred years after the incident.»
Kíliel laughed aloud, for she could imagine how joyous it must be to finally be able to talk back to Altar, without him seeming so smug and self-righteous.
«Why do you not make a new Council? You can now that you are King,» Kíliel wondered, her mind turned to this idea that kept enticing her whenever she had a moment to think. She would spend hours considering who to bring into her new Council. And while there were not many she trusted of the dwarves of her class, she desperately wanted younger dwarves to make up her Council, dwarves who were not set in their ancient ways, who would be open to create a new and better Erebor under her command.
Fíli exhaled as he laid a hand on her head and ruffled her hair. «Erebor is still a young Kingdom, Kíliel, and we have yet a long way to go to rebuild the infrastructure and the spirit of the people.»
«But you said yourself that our old traditions do not count any longer,» Kíliel huffed and looked at Fíli with a confused mock.
«Traditions and 'old ways' are a safer way to go, rather than start all fresh with no direction or plans. I do try to adapt the traditions to our new Kingdom, but to change something we first need to have something whole that can be changed. It is not so easy to change something that is not established to begin with.» He looked at Kíliel with a smirk. «And I have no doubt that when you are Queen you can and will change our Kingdom to the better. But right now it is my job to finish what Thorin started.»
He finished with that and looked into the fire again. It was now almost burned down. Kíliel stood up and put another log on the hungry flames. They devoured it instantly and grew great again.
«I hope so too,» Kíliel muttered worriedly. She did not like to hear him say that because it meant that he would be dead, and she could not bear to even imagine the world without him. She shook her head of her worries and turned to him again with a hopeful expression: «Will you not continue your story?»
Fíli chuckled and nodded. «Where was I? Yes, well, after Altar was finished thrashing me, I ran away and hid in one of the deepest gem-caves of the Mountain. I was mortified and would not show my face in public again. Then Hera found me, and she comforted me. It was there, after only two weeks of knowing each other that we kissed for the first time.» Fíli sighed of the memory and touched his lips as if in trance.
This last sentence shook Kíliel to the core.
They kissed after only having known each other for two weeks? It could not be right. «But… how… how did you know? How did you know that you wanted to kiss her, or that she wanted to kiss you?»
«I just knew,» Fíli chuckled, his gaze still deep in the flames.
Kíliel sat frozen for a moment. She did not understand. Was she the only one who never knew her own feelings? Was there something wrong with her to be so indecisive?
«You are right, I am not like you. I do not understand feelings.» She cupped and hid her face in her hands. «It took me twenty years to kiss Thekk, and only because I did not want him to leave,» she breathed into her hands. «I am so stupid.»
Fíli chuckled and laid his arm around her shoulder. She was as tall as him when they sat like that, and it actually surprised her how small he suddenly seemed to her.
«You are not stupid, Kíliel,» Fíli began. «This is what I mean. You will be a perfect Queen exactly because you are not controlled by your emotions. From what I can tell, every decision you make are based on a well thought-out desire to one day become Queen.»
Kíliel lowered her hands and looked at Fíli, a tear tracing down her cheek. He smiled encouraging, and it lit a tiny light of hope in her chest. As he said it she realised it was true. And then she was defeated again.
She looked at Fíli with a deeply worried expression. «But does that mean I will never allow myself to love, or be loved? I am so afraid of being weak, or to relinquish my heirship to the person I decide to love. Can I not have it both ways?»
Fíli was quiet for a moment, then he exhaled, and lowered his gaze. «I am sorry, Kíliel, for I feel responsible for giving you these fears. I wish we had never made you believe that Thekk was to marry you and be King. It was a dirty scheme, and I resent the Council for it. You should not fear your feelings, and no matter what you decide you are our heir, Kíliel. Ignore the Council. This is between you and Thekk.»
Kíliel turned from Fíli, her gaze finding the flames. Her and Thekk. And Legolas. Her thoughts were a big mess of emotions, and she could not find heads or tails to any of her worries. She exhaled and embraced herself, hugging herself as if she was cold, even with the warmth of the hearth on her face. A chill moved down her spine. What would she choose?
She shook herself and turned back to Fíli after a moment, her smile sweet. «Forgive me, I keep interrupting your story.»
Fíli chuckled and ruffled her hair again. «Don't worry about it, lass, I have nowhere to be today.»
Kíliel giggled and brushed her hair with her fingers, though it made little difference with her mad curls.
Fíli proceeded to tell her of the aftermath of the kiss. He had even told Thorin and Kíli about his hope of marrying Hera. They hadn't understood, especially Thorin had brushed it off as a silly romance. It pained Kíliel to hear this bit, to see and understand the disappointment young Fíli must've felt. They had left Orocarni, and upon departure Fíli and Hera had promised to keep their love true until the next time they met.
«It would come to show that young love is not so enduring as I had hoped,» Fíli muttered, the fire burning in his eyes. «We were young, and the years of the young pass quickly, changing many things in our hearts and minds. But I always loved Hera, her fierce and kind heart. What I did not understand at that time was that a fierce heart is also an impatient one.»
Kíliel pushed her shoulders towards her ears, her heart beating faster, fearing what was to come. Fíli's expression was so sad, so longing and regretful. He scratched his beard before he continued.
«Ten years passed before our travels brought us back to Orocarni. It was the happiest journey of my life, and for each tired mile I felt myself dragged forcefully towards the woman that I had loved faithfully. I thought it was her thoughts of me that pulled on me, but I was quite wrong.
«When we finally made it through the gate and was greeted by the royal family, and my eyes caught Hera standing in the second line of greeters, I wanted to run to her. She was so beautiful, fully mature, looking truly like the Queen she was born to be. But something stopped me as I jumped off my pony. Her gaze was cold, and she made no show of happiness or excitement at my coming, so I remained behind Thorin, awaiting to be greeted as tradition dictates.»
Kíliel sighed. Why was it the way that love never endured?
Fíli exhaled heavily, his face growing ever more somber by the painful memories. «After the longest afternoon in my life, filled with banquets and official meetings to discuss things of importance, I snuck away to find her, so that I might understand her reaction. I found her in her chambers, and when I asked why she was not pleased to see me, she started sobbing and told me the truth. She had married another, for the sake of her father and also for her lonely heart.»
Kíliel gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. «How could she?» She breathed. Fíli exhaled again, and in the light of the fire, Kíliel saw a single tear leave his eye.
«I was as surprised as you are. It had never occurred to me that she did not love me as I loved her, even after ten years apart. I was a foolish and naive child, and yet I still love her. Even after her rejection of me, after a hundred years, I will always keep her in my heart.»
«How can you? Does it not hurt terribly?» Kíliel held his arm, partly to support him and party to support herself. She looked at him intently, her eyes big and glazed with pain for her uncle.
«Kíliel, you are both elf and dwarf, and I do not know about the love of elves, but there is something you need to understand about dwarves, and particularly dwarven men; when we first love someone, we cannot stop it, even if we are not chosen. Our love is so rare and so strong it endures like the mountain tall. Our love is hikhthuzul amrul.»
«Forever love?» Kíliel mused. It was a new expression to her, but the weight behind the words hit her hard.
«Yes. Our love is everlasting, which is why most dwarves tend to avoid it. The risk is too high.» Fíli's eyes were far away and hollow, and it seemed to Kíliel that she could see his broken heart aching for Hera, a woman who had rejected his forever-love. The more Kíliel thought on it, the more she realised how Thekk must be feeling, and she refused to hurt him like Hera hurt Fíli.
«Dwarrow-dames are expected to marry, and therefore they have to be more adaptive in their love, more reserved. I do not know if Hera still loves me, but even if she does there is nothing to be done about it. It is always the woman who chooses, and she chose someone else.» Fíli talked solemnly, but also sternly, his hand resting on Kíliel's as she tightened her grip on his arm.
«Have you not seen her since?» Kíliel's eyes shone with despair.
«I saw her a few times while I still traveled, but that is many years ago. We receive news from Oricarni, and I always wish to know how she fares, but that is all. She is married, her husband King and she his Queen.»
Fíli shook himself lightly, as if shaking off the painful emotions. He then turned to Kíliel, his expression poised and Kingly yet again.
«Now it is your time to choose, Kíliel,» Fíli declared, his voice soft yet stern, and she knew it was a warning as well as an encouragement. «I know you will make the right choice, regardless of any repercussions or any advice you might receive from the people around you.»
Kíliel sighed as Fíli stood. He winked at her and turned to leave.
«How do you know which choice is the right one?» She asked, still facing the fireplace. Fíli stopped right as he reached the door.
«I suppose… the right choice is the one your heart is fighting to make.» Then he left and closed the door behind him.
Kíliel looked into the fire, her eyes seeing only Thekk before her. She knew what choice it was her heart was fighting for. But she was afraid. Like Fíli, she was afraid to put all her love on one choice and be left heartbroken and alone. But did it also mean that it was hopeless? She did not want to believe that.
Her choice was simple; she would fight for Thekk and her love to stay true until he returned, no matter what it would cost her.
—
hikhthuzul amrul = Forever/always love (Khuzdul)

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The choice of the Heart
It was silent in Erebor without Thekk. Empty.
Kíliel cared less for the sounds of the Mountains, knowing that he was not down there working on his forging. And it infuriated her that nothing had seemingly changed. The people carried on like nothing was different, the bellows pumped, and the hammers struck so she could feel the vibrations through the floor as usual. Yet the Mountain was emptier for his absence. No one cared that Thekk was out there risking his life every day. Only she noticed that he was not there, standing by her side, making fun of what she said or did.
Her longing was unbearable.
Kíliel was angry at herself for how oblivious she had been to his importance to her and her life in Erebor. He had left, and she was stuck in the Kingdom that would one day be hers to command. And while she understood his reasoning, she resented him for leaving.
This day was like all days since he had left. She felt needless, and her work was slow.
Kíliel sat alone at her desk, formerly Thorin's desk, in her chamber. The chamber was cold, the embers glowing in the hearth of a dying fire. It was winter, mid-December, and even with the roaring fires of the forges in the heart of the Mountain, the walls were always cold. She tucked the fur cape closer against her neck and sighed so smoke came from her mouth. She thought of Thekk, and how he must be freezing out in the cold, or perhaps he had arrived at Ered Luin. She had heard no news, and it put her on edge.
A stack of papers laid in front of her on the table, the inkstand next to them, and a feather pen in her hand. No words. Her thoughts were blank. She only thought of him. A mere month had passed since Thekk had left, and Kíliel longed for him as she had never thought she would.
Now she was trying to write the invitations to the elves that she promised she would have finished as soon as possible. She cursed herself for having taken it upon herself to write them. It was her first official task as the heir, and she had to do it perfectly. For a month she had tried every day to write and failed, evident by the crumbled up papers strewn around her on the floor.
Kíliel forced herself to dip the pen into the inkstand, filled the tip, and carefully moved it to the top of the paper in front of her. She carefully tapped the pen to the paper, seeing the ink flow, making neat letters as she wrote. She lifted the pen and stared at the paper.
«'Legolas',» she breathed, reading the name she had written. He was all she could think of, him and Thekk. Her thoughts constantly found him ever since Thekk's departure. It seemed she had anxiety about bringing Legolas to Erebor, which confused her immensely, for she had all her life dreamed of nothing else. Once she had thought that she loved Legolas, but after her kiss with Thekk she did not know anymore. Could she love Legolas and Thekk both, in two entirely different ways? Was it possible? It was a dilemma without end.
Each time she thought of Legolas now, her dreamlike image of him, she instantly thought of Thekk, his realness to her, and her promise. She refused to give up her love for Thekk, she would prove that to him once he returned. But what then if Legolas was one day to come to Erebor? She feared what she would do, perhaps forget about Thekk completely, if she once again stood in Legolas' presence. She could not allow that to happen. But then, why not? Her feelings for Legolas felt no less real than her feelings for Thekk, and yet it was completely different.
She could not think straight, and she exhaled exasperatedly as a drop of ink fell from the tip of the pen where she had held it still for a long moment, her mind frantically trying to find a solution. She dropped the pen into the inkstand and leaned back in the big armchair.
The solution was easy enough; there was none. And so she did not want to write the letters. She did not want Legolas to come if it meant that she would break her promise to Thekk and herself.
Kíliel groaned and leaned forward, hitting her head against the paper. She sobbed theatrically a few times, before rising again and rubbing her face with her hands.
«It is hopeless!» She exclaimed and ripped the paper into a thousand pieces, scattering them behind her.
At that moment there sounded a knock on her door and she inhaled sharply, sitting up straight in fear that someone might have heard. She called uncertainly: «Come in,» and the door opened to reveal her uncle Fíli, standing there in all his Kingly might. He was dressed in a thick coat, which scraped along the floor as he walked. It was lined with fur, and the hood was made entirely of fur, with the face of a grand wolf at the end, so that when he wore it, the head of the wolf would fall in front of his face like the visor of a helmet. Now it hung low and flaccid on his back.
Kíliel scrambled to get to her feet and greet him as was custom, then lowered her face. She could not bear to look at him, when he smiled so proudly of her with his warm eyes, looking like the perfect King that he was. She sat back down.
«What is the matter, lass?» Fíli crossed the floor and stopped beside her. When she did not answer, he took her face in his hands and made her look at him.
«I am trying to write the invitations, but…» She stopped, and looked up into his kind face.
«I can see that,» he chuckled and rubbed his thumb against her forehead where she had gotten an ink stain from the paper. «And?»
«I cannot do it,» she muttered, tears gathering in the corner of her eye.
«And why not?» Fíli mused as he let go of her and took a stool to sit down in front of her on the other side of the desk.
«I just can't… I'll never be able to write them perfectly.»
«Who said they need to be perfect?» Fíli chuckled and tilted his head. «I think you're putting too much thought into it, lass. You are the Princess Heir, and when you stop trying to think, you'll know what to write. I am sure of that.»
«How do you know?» Kíliel whined and threw out her arms. «I am a hopeless Heir. If I can't even do this, then what kind of Queen will I be?»
«I know this because you are not like me, Kíliel,» Fíli began, his voice calm but serious, «I have known for a long time that you are a far more dedicated Heir than I was, and already more prepared for the task of ruling this Kingdom.»
Kíliel furrowed her brows in confusion. «What do you mean, uncle?»
«I mean that unlike me, you have always known that you are one day to become the Queen, and every decision you make is always focused on that goal.»
«That isn't true,» Kíliel shook her head and looked down. Fíli's eyes were intense, and she saw the truth in them, a truth she was not ready to face yet. A tear once again gathered in her eye, but she would not let it fall. «I do many stupid things all the time. And the rest of the time I do not even know what to do.»
«You think too much again,» Fíli chuckled and laid his hand on hers from across the table. «I only mean you needn't worry so much, and do not try to be perfect all the time. You don't have to be perfect to be Queen, Kíliel, you are the perfect Queen already.»
Kíliel squeezed his hand, feeling a tear leave her eye.
«And do not worry about the invitations so much either. There is no rush, so just do it when you know what to write. It will be better.» Fíli winked at her, and she giggled.
«Thank you, uncle,» she smirked and exhaled heavily as she leaned back in her chair.
There was a moment of silence between them, and as always it was a comfortable silence. Fíli was one of those people Kíliel was perfectly comfortable being silent with. They simply enjoyed each other's company and could spend hours sitting together silently, either reading or working on separate projects.
Finally, Fíli spoke again, his expression amused. «However, I am wondering if it is not just perfectionism that is keeping you from writing.»
Kíliel jerked up and met his gaze. Shock coloured her face white as she stuttered: «I do not know what you mean.»
«You are many things, lass, but a good liar is not one of them.» Fíli raised his brow and peered at her. «It is Thekk, is it not?»
Kíliel stared at the blank paper in front of her, refusing to give away her emotions.
Fíli smacked his tongue and chuckled. «You must know that the rumour has already spread throughout the Mountain. Will you not speak to me about it?»
«No,» Kíliel muttered coldly. She did not want to discuss it with anyone, not before she had made up her mind about how she felt about it. She would not give them the satisfaction in thinking that it was their doing that had made her fall for Thekk. She had yet to forgive her family for their lies.
«Why not?» Fíli's expression turned wondering, almost worried. «I may be able to help you with your troubles.»
«How?» Kíliel muttered through gritted teeth, before she looked up, and sternly met the gaze of her uncle. «What do you know about love?»
Fíli lowered his gaze and caressed his beard, exhaling before he met her gaze again. His eyes were filled with sadness, and Kíliel instantly regretted her words. She was obviously mistaken. The sorrow she saw in her uncle's eyes were like the kind she had seen in Thekk's eyes when he thought she did not care for him. It was a longing, hopeless look, and her heart beat harder for the things she now knew that Fíli had never spoken of. He had once been in love.
«I know of love and loss, Kíliel, and if my experience in any way may help you so you may not experience what I did, then I will gladly talk of it with you.»
«Forgive me, uncle,» Kíliel breathed. She walked around the table and sat down in front of him on the bench that stood in front of the fire. «I did not know. Please, will you tell me?» She grasped his hand and he met her eyes with a sad smile.
«It is not your fault you did not know, none but your father and grandfather knew, and yet I never even spoke to them about it. The pain was too great.» Fíli paused. «Will you not breathe fire into the hearth? It is too chilly in here.» He looked to her, and she jumped to her feet to do as he asked.
When the fire was eating away on new logs and Kíliel sat down beside her uncle again, Fíli cleared his throat and started speaking.
«You must understand that this was a long time ago. I was naught but a young dwarfling at the time, younger than you even.» His eyes shone in the light from the fire, glazed with memories of a time long since past. «Me and Kíli had just started traveling with Thorin, working as mercenaries, helping tradesmen deliver their cargo between the Dwarven realms. I don't remember staying anywhere for longer than a few weeks at the time. It was a great time for us, getting away from our mother and seeing the world. We only ever wanted to travel with Thorin, Kíli and me, and finally we were allowed.» Fíli chuckled of the memories.
Kíliel felt honoured to be allowed to share this with her uncle. Most stories she had of her father and uncle's childhood were stories Kíli and Thorin had told her, and they were only ever cheerful and carefree, adventurous and exciting. This was something else entirely, something she could possibly relate to, and bring her even closer to her uncle.
«I remember it so clearly, seeing her the first time,» Fíli sighed, his eyes long gone in the dancing flames, «She was the first lass I'd met that were not much older than me, and I was instantly captured by her sweet, kind little face, by the strength and yet frailty of her body, and her voice, so melodious and clear as if spoken by a young mountain goat. Her hair was fair like my own, and when our eyes met across the greeting hall of Orocarni, my fate was set, and I think she knew it because she walked straight up to me and introduced herself. She was Hera, grand-daughter of the King. I was so dumb, I couldn't speak a word. I only stared at her. And when Thorin called for me, I stumbled in my own legs and went sprawling right in front of her. I can still remember the ringing of her laughter, like the sound of silver bells.»
Fíli chuckled, and rubbed his brows, still embarrassed for the memory.
Kíliel was like enchanted by his story. She could see it all so clearly in her mind, and giggled at the image of her kingly uncle lying flat on the ground in front of a princess, his face probably turned bright red like the mountain flower of autumn.
While the fire steadily ate its way across the logs, Fíli continued telling of Hera, and how they got acquainted over the two weeks he spent in Orocarni. This was incidentally also the time he managed to set fire to Altar's beard, who resided in Orocarni with his son, long before Aín was even born. Fíli cringed when he thought of Altar's rage and his own fear of the dwarf.
«I think he only forgave me when I finally became King,» Fíli barked a laugh, «And it pleases me immensely to push him on it, even now, almost a hundred years after the incident.»
Kíliel laughed aloud, for she could imagine how joyous it must be to finally be able to talk back to Altar, without him seeming so smug and self-righteous.
«Why do you not make a new Council? You can now that you are King,» Kíliel wondered, her mind turned to this idea that kept enticing her whenever she had a moment to think. She would spend hours considering who to bring into her new Council. And while there were not many she trusted of the dwarves of her class, she desperately wanted younger dwarves to make up her Council, dwarves who were not set in their ancient ways, who would be open to create a new and better Erebor under her command.
Fíli exhaled as he laid a hand on her head and ruffled her hair. «Erebor is still a young Kingdom, Kíliel, and we have yet a long way to go to rebuild the infrastructure and the spirit of the people.»
«But you said yourself that our old traditions do not count any longer,» Kíliel huffed and looked at Fíli with a confused mock.
«Traditions and 'old ways' are a safer way to go, rather than start all fresh with no direction or plans. I do try to adapt the traditions to our new Kingdom, but to change something we first need to have something whole that can be changed. It is not so easy to change something that is not established to begin with.» He looked at Kíliel with a smirk. «And I have no doubt that when you are Queen you can and will change our Kingdom to the better. But right now it is my job to finish what Thorin started.»
He finished with that and looked into the fire again. It was now almost burned down. Kíliel stood up and put another log on the hungry flames. They devoured it instantly and grew great again.
«I hope so too,» Kíliel muttered worriedly. She did not like to hear him say that because it meant that he would be dead, and she could not bear to even imagine the world without him. She shook her head of her worries and turned to him again with a hopeful expression: «Will you not continue your story?»
Fíli chuckled and nodded. «Where was I? Yes, well, after Altar was finished thrashing me, I ran away and hid in one of the deepest gem-caves of the Mountain. I was mortified and would not show my face in public again. Then Hera found me, and she comforted me. It was there, after only two weeks of knowing each other that we kissed for the first time.» Fíli sighed of the memory and touched his lips as if in trance.
This last sentence shook Kíliel to the core.
They kissed after only having known each other for two weeks? It could not be right. «But… how… how did you know? How did you know that you wanted to kiss her, or that she wanted to kiss you?»
«I just knew,» Fíli chuckled, his gaze still deep in the flames.
Kíliel sat frozen for a moment. She did not understand. Was she the only one who never knew her own feelings? Was there something wrong with her to be so indecisive?
«You are right, I am not like you. I do not understand feelings.» She cupped and hid her face in her hands. «It took me twenty years to kiss Thekk, and only because I did not want him to leave,» she breathed into her hands. «I am so stupid.»
Fíli chuckled and laid his arm around her shoulder. She was as tall as him when they sat like that, and it actually surprised her how small he suddenly seemed to her.
«You are not stupid, Kíliel,» Fíli began. «This is what I mean. You will be a perfect Queen exactly because you are not controlled by your emotions. From what I can tell, every decision you make are based on a well thought-out desire to one day become Queen.»
Kíliel lowered her hands and looked at Fíli, a tear tracing down her cheek. He smiled encouraging, and it lit a tiny light of hope in her chest. As he said it she realised it was true. And then she was defeated again.
She looked at Fíli with a deeply worried expression. «But does that mean I will never allow myself to love, or be loved? I am so afraid of being weak, or to relinquish my heirship to the person I decide to love. Can I not have it both ways?»
Fíli was quiet for a moment, then he exhaled, and lowered his gaze. «I am sorry, Kíliel, for I feel responsible for giving you these fears. I wish we had never made you believe that Thekk was to marry you and be King. It was a dirty scheme, and I resent the Council for it. You should not fear your feelings, and no matter what you decide you are our heir, Kíliel. Ignore the Council. This is between you and Thekk.»
Kíliel turned from Fíli, her gaze finding the flames. Her and Thekk. And Legolas. Her thoughts were a big mess of emotions, and she could not find heads or tails to any of her worries. She exhaled and embraced herself, hugging herself as if she was cold, even with the warmth of the hearth on her face. A chill moved down her spine. What would she choose?
She shook herself and turned back to Fíli after a moment, her smile sweet. «Forgive me, I keep interrupting your story.»
Fíli chuckled and ruffled her hair again. «Don't worry about it, lass, I have nowhere to be today.»
Kíliel giggled and brushed her hair with her fingers, though it made little difference with her mad curls.
Fíli proceeded to tell her of the aftermath of the kiss. He had even told Thorin and Kíli about his hope of marrying Hera. They hadn't understood, especially Thorin had brushed it off as a silly romance. It pained Kíliel to hear this bit, to see and understand the disappointment young Fíli must've felt. They had left Orocarni, and upon departure Fíli and Hera had promised to keep their love true until the next time they met.
«It would come to show that young love is not so enduring as I had hoped,» Fíli muttered, the fire burning in his eyes. «We were young, and the years of the young pass quickly, changing many things in our hearts and minds. But I always loved Hera, her fierce and kind heart. What I did not understand at that time was that a fierce heart is also an impatient one.»
Kíliel pushed her shoulders towards her ears, her heart beating faster, fearing what was to come. Fíli's expression was so sad, so longing and regretful. He scratched his beard before he continued.
«Ten years passed before our travels brought us back to Orocarni. It was the happiest journey of my life, and for each tired mile I felt myself dragged forcefully towards the woman that I had loved faithfully. I thought it was her thoughts of me that pulled on me, but I was quite wrong.
«When we finally made it through the gate and was greeted by the royal family, and my eyes caught Hera standing in the second line of greeters, I wanted to run to her. She was so beautiful, fully mature, looking truly like the Queen she was born to be. But something stopped me as I jumped off my pony. Her gaze was cold, and she made no show of happiness or excitement at my coming, so I remained behind Thorin, awaiting to be greeted as tradition dictates.»
Kíliel sighed. Why was it the way that love never endured?
Fíli exhaled heavily, his face growing ever more somber by the painful memories. «After the longest afternoon in my life, filled with banquets and official meetings to discuss things of importance, I snuck away to find her, so that I might understand her reaction. I found her in her chambers, and when I asked why she was not pleased to see me, she started sobbing and told me the truth. She had married another, for the sake of her father and also for her lonely heart.»
Kíliel gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. «How could she?» She breathed. Fíli exhaled again, and in the light of the fire, Kíliel saw a single tear leave his eye.
«I was as surprised as you are. It had never occurred to me that she did not love me as I loved her, even after ten years apart. I was a foolish and naive child, and yet I still love her. Even after her rejection of me, after a hundred years, I will always keep her in my heart.»
«How can you? Does it not hurt terribly?» Kíliel held his arm, partly to support him and party to support herself. She looked at him intently, her eyes big and glazed with pain for her uncle.
«Kíliel, you are both elf and dwarf, and I do not know about the love of elves, but there is something you need to understand about dwarves, and particularly dwarven men; when we first love someone, we cannot stop it, even if we are not chosen. Our love is so rare and so strong it endures like the mountain tall. Our love is hikhthuzul amrul.»
«Forever love?» Kíliel mused. It was a new expression to her, but the weight behind the words hit her hard.
«Yes. Our love is everlasting, which is why most dwarves tend to avoid it. The risk is too high.» Fíli's eyes were far away and hollow, and it seemed to Kíliel that she could see his broken heart aching for Hera, a woman who had rejected his forever-love. The more Kíliel thought on it, the more she realised how Thekk must be feeling, and she refused to hurt him like Hera hurt Fíli.
«Dwarrow-dames are expected to marry, and therefore they have to be more adaptive in their love, more reserved. I do not know if Hera still loves me, but even if she does there is nothing to be done about it. It is always the woman who chooses, and she chose someone else.» Fíli talked solemnly, but also sternly, his hand resting on Kíliel's as she tightened her grip on his arm.
«Have you not seen her since?» Kíliel's eyes shone with despair.
«I saw her a few times while I still traveled, but that is many years ago. We receive news from Oricarni, and I always wish to know how she fares, but that is all. She is married, her husband King and she his Queen.»
Fíli shook himself lightly, as if shaking off the painful emotions. He then turned to Kíliel, his expression poised and Kingly yet again.
«Now it is your time to choose, Kíliel,» Fíli declared, his voice soft yet stern, and she knew it was a warning as well as an encouragement. «I know you will make the right choice, regardless of any repercussions or any advice you might receive from the people around you.»
Kíliel sighed as Fíli stood. He winked at her and turned to leave.
«How do you know which choice is the right one?» She asked, still facing the fireplace. Fíli stopped right as he reached the door.
«I suppose… the right choice is the one your heart is fighting to make.» Then he left and closed the door behind him.
Kíliel looked into the fire, her eyes seeing only Thekk before her. She knew what choice it was her heart was fighting for. But she was afraid. Like Fíli, she was afraid to put all her love on one choice and be left heartbroken and alone. But did it also mean that it was hopeless? She did not want to believe that.
Her choice was simple; she would fight for Thekk and her love to stay true until he returned, no matter what it would cost her.
—
hikhthuzul amrul = Forever/always love (Khuzdul)