july 9

Jul. 11th, 2015 12:21 pm
willnothide: (listening so make it good)
[personal profile] willnothide
He supposes he could have gone to Tauriel.

Walking back toward Candlewood, Kili wonders why, indeed, he'd chosen to text his brother (Time for a quick chat?) this evening when he knows very well what will come of the conversation, which is to say nothing but overreactions and Thorin-like huffs of frustration. Courage isn't the only thing either of them had inherited from their uncle, after all. Kili can already anticipate Fili's reaction when he walks through the door, a casual smile in greeting that will quickly give way to comically widened eyes at the sight of the blood soaking through Kili's torn clothing.

The wound isn't dire, though Kili has a fairly skewed vision of dire now that he's already been killed once, a mere cut to his side that had been a result of his own foolishness. He'd left his apartment this evening on what he'd convinced himself would be a lovely, quiet stroll, though he'd armed himself with one knife in each boot and another attached to his belt. He would have brought his bow and arrow but that, he'd decided, would be less justifiable.

He'd come across, as he'd privately hoped, a certain bit of a panic in an alleyway as he'd neared Petros Park--a vampire attacking a young, blonde woman who had reminded him very much of Beth, aside from her muffled cries for help as the creature had aimed to sink its fangs into her neck. As he plans on telling his brother, he'd had no choice but to intervene. He's only gone wrong briefly, taking his eyes off his opponent with his knife wielded in front of him to check on the poor woman, and the vampire had wrenched it from his hand before parrying forward with a swipe of its wrist.

Kili hadn't cried out, for which he is proud, but even after he'd pulled his second knife from his boot to dispose of the creature, he must now admit that he feels just a bit affronted that the woman hadn't even stayed long enough to thank him for his help. He'd been wounded in her name, after all, a name he doesn't even know. He'd taken one look at the cut, grimacing at the sight, and decided that in spite of his stubborn urge to ignore it, the wound needed care.

It comes as no surprise to him that Fili is the first he'd go to for this sort of thing, his brother had always been the one to mend his lesser wounds in the Ered Luin or fetch Oin for the ones he could not properly dress on his own. Their mother, though fretting, would allow it without much other fuss, if only because in his younger years, Kili would screech and writhe unless he'd been under the attentive care of his older brother. Still, he thinks as he waits for the elevator to take him to their floor, he could have gone to Tauriel and kept mum about this entire incident.

But he'd promised no more lies and so, he walks through the door, smiling from ear to ear to distract from the primary reason he's entered so hastily.

"Not busy were you, Fee?" he asks cheerfully, unbuckling his belt and letting it fall loose to the floor, though he makes no effort to hide his wound. His brother has always had a knack for spotting his vulernabilities, after all. "I'd hate to be the cause of a ruined evening."

Date: 2015-10-12 03:47 am (UTC)
sonofdurin: (Default)
From: [personal profile] sonofdurin
"Mahal be praised, he learned something after all," Fíli says dryly. It's not that he doesn't understand why Kíli had tried to hard to keep the severity of the wound to his leg hidden, nor can he honestly say that he wouldn't have done the same thing, had their positions been reversed. But where his brother's concerned, in Fíli's opinion, anything that doesn't kill him is grounds for mockery - a fact which Kíli knows perfectly well. "There's hope for you yet, Kee - maybe by the time you're Thorin's age, you'll have even learned not to let your enemies get your weapons away from you."

With one of the spare bandages, he wipes away most of the blood obscuring the wound so he can get a better look at it. It will need stitches, though not as many as he'd initially feared, the blood having made the cut look worse than it really is.

"And you must have lost more blood than I thought," he adds, carefully cleaning the wound, "you're talking nonsense. If I made you clean my floor, it would only wind up dirtier than when you started, and I'm not that much of a fool."

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Kili

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