Chapter Text
You see him by a roaring fire within the dance hall that many of the citizens of Erebor have congregated in, to celebrate yet another year since the kingdom was rid of Smaug the Terrible. A fire drake who had once been deemed the greatest calamity of the age. From the perspective of the Dwarrow of Erebor and their descendents or extended family elsewhere, anyways. The only heat you're thinking of though is the one brought to your cheeks when Kíli, son of Dís, meets your eyes across the room.
His circlet is slightly askance and he appeared a bit bored, until your eyes connect with his. However, a charming grin soon makes its way across his features and your heart flutters to see it.
Kíli raises his tankard to you, and you smile in return. Because though a bit taken aback by the sudden attention, you are still a Dwarf, and will not balk entirely beneath it. Especially when you are wearing your best outfit and your hair looks better than it would on a normal day. Best to show it off now than being caught unawares at a time less optimal than this one.
At least, it would have been, had someone not collided with you, then leading to your clothes as well as your person being utterly drenched.
Stunned briefly, you stand in a crowded ballroom, no longer fit for company. A few moments pass by and you realise there are profuse apologies being uttered at you, but you cannot stand to hear them, nor reply either.
The shock, it would seem, has not fully passed.
A light touch on your shoulder makes you jump, only to find the individual who did so is none other than Prince Kíli. Otherwise known as the last individual you wish to see at this time.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," Kíli says.
"You would be but the second tonight," you reply.
He nods.
"I noticed, and thought I might offer my help."
You frown, gazing up at him. Kíli is a bit tall for a Dwarf, so he is marginally taller than you. Which matters little, except you must glance upwards so that your eyes can connect.
"How so?"
He wastes no time in saying, "I've got spare clothes you can have."
"You mean borrow," you respond, not considering whether or not you should be correcting royalty.
Kíli waits a beat then replies, "Only if you're asking to see me again."
You snort.
"Quite forward of you, Prince Kíli," you say, but the two of you fall into step beside each other directly after.
"Is it? I have eyes," Kíli replies, his voice lilting with amusement as he speaks.
"Funny enough, so do I," you tease.
A laugh follows; it is rich and warm.
Silence sneaks its way between you both as your combined steps lead you elsewhere, to a place you never thought you would find yourself; the restricted Royal Wing of Erebor. Despite this, you only glance around every so often, as you don't want to appear suspicious. However, you realise the game is up when Kíli says, "It is fine to be curious. I would be more surprised if you weren’t."
"Bring many others here often?" you joke.
Unlike before, Kíli shakes his head rather than emoting anything close to laughter.
"Not really, so do try not to garner too much attention while you’re here."
For the first time all night, Kíli is a bit more serious than you've ever seen him. Either in passing or briefly earlier where you had watched him then interacted following the errant drink spill.
"Why me?" you ask.
"Would you like the honest answer, or something else?" he responds, not missing a single beat in his steps, moving forwards with a purpose that you have to work to keep up with.
Still, you reply, "Honesty."
"I was bored." He sighs. "Perhaps it is a bit reckless of me, but I needed a reason to leave, and as sorry as I am about your garments, your predicament afforded me the perfect opportunity to escape."
You roll your eyes.
"Not fond of balls?"
"Dances and such are fine, sometimes. However, as the night wanes, others pair off.” He pauses, before adding, “I'm told I'm fine for a dance or a lay, but anything else, well…" He trails off, quieting.
Afterwards, Kíli seems to use the need to open a door as an excuse to cease talking entirely.
You enter a receiving room with a fire that must have been lit by staff prior to your arrival.
Once the door is shut, Kíli holds up his hands saying, "Wait here, please."
So you do, but from beside the fire, which is a balm to the disaster that has become your clothes. The warmth which finds you eases your mind the longer you stand there.
You are not sure how much time has passed when you hear heavy steps again, but once you do, you turn to them.
Well, him.
Kíli.
He returns bearing a pile of clothes that is held out to you, which you gladly accept, then say, "Thank you. Even if not wholly altruistic in nature, I appreciate your aid."
He shrugs.
"It was nothing." Kíli pauses, a mischievous smile on his face. "I should be thanking you."
"Why's that?" you ask.
"You saved me being party to witnessing my newly married brother and his One's penchant for tooth-rotting displays of their love. I can only handle so much without finding myself with a belly ache."
It is said good-naturedly, even if the words are tinged with annoyance, which is normal younger sibling behaviour.
You smile.
"It is a beacon of hope to many that the Crown Prince and his consort love each other so openly. They are heralds of a new age in our kingdom."
Kíli sighs.
"Yes, yes. I know. I've heard it all before. I am very happy for them, I assure you. It's wonderful, truly." He hesitates then adds, "However, quite a bit lonely when you're unattached, while the rest of your family is either married to their craft or bound by the love of their One." He grimaces, meeting your eyes. "My apologies. That's likely more than you care to know, and hardly what you bargained for when following me here."
Something tugs sharply at your heart, so you step forward. Kíli's eyes track your movements even when you come to a halt before him.
In the light of the fire, his brown irises glisten.
"For all that's said about you outside your purview, you are allowed to be more than what others think, Kíli."
Thoughts of how others disparage his looks - the more ghastly Durin prince, some say. Up close, all you can see is the kind face Kíli trains upon you, and those warm brown eyes that have melted a part of your walls which were up earlier, but have now incrementally come down.
You are no fool. Kíli is a prince of Durin's line. Such an entanglement could prove far worse for you if it doesn't work out than the reverse. You had known that even as you entertained his attention amidst gaiety during the ball.
Except, something draws you to Kíli, who is still watching you as your heart pounds harder beneath his piercing gaze. Away from the revelry, where it is just you two, there is little way to conceal emotions, especially when Kíli is perceptive.
You recall he is an archer with deadly accuracy, which is why it is no surprise to you when Kíli notices the way your breath soon hitches standing next to him.
The clothes he had handed to you earlier are still in your hands, but something about the way you are being looked at, your mind entertains the idea of whether or not you'll need them quite yet.
Despite the caution within you, there's something about this moment that makes you feel particularly reckless.
"Has no one ever told you that?" you ask, doing your best to stave off the feeling, though your eyes remain trained upwards, not daring to look away.
The moment has now become charged in his silence, which from what you know, there is less of that when the Dwarf before you is about.
"No one, outside of my family, who ever meant it," Kíli whispers, slightly swaying towards you.
This moment is the walk towards a precipice, and at its edge, you jump.