There no such Halls here, she says, and Kili finally has to lift his head up to meet her gaze, the warmth of her lips still lingering on his forehead, with a curious sort of expression. This is not Middle-earth, of that he is sure, but if Tauriel is not here to guide him to the great Halls to be with his brother again and if this is beginning to feel far too real to merely be a dream, Kili cannot quite comprehend what that might mean.
His eyes travel back downward, past the loosely tied tunic he wears beneath his hauberk of golden chain, and he sees there something he knows had not been there before: a hint of scar, healed over when it should be fresh from a wound he'd had no hope of healing from, a wound that had drawn his last breath, and he spends a long moment staring at the way it peeks from his clothing, almost as if it shouldn't be there at all. It should't be, he supposes, just as Kili shouldn't be here, wherever they are.
"Where are we?" he asks, bringing one hand to his chest before looking back up at her, as if with renewed purpose. He hadn't believed this could last, seeing her and being with her and touching her, but it cannot be that they'd both be brought here only to be torn apart again if Kili isn't to be led to the Halls. Perhaps it is a foolish, fleeting thought, very much like the one he'd had of believing he could save them both, but Kili has never been one to flee from that. Foolish thoughts, it seems, have taken him to places he never could have imagined and here he sits, on the floor of the wood with the Elf-maiden who never should have loved him. This cannot be for nothing. "Tell me, amrâlimê, what is this place that it would bring you back to me? Just like our promise."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2015-01-26 04:01 am (UTC)His eyes travel back downward, past the loosely tied tunic he wears beneath his hauberk of golden chain, and he sees there something he knows had not been there before: a hint of scar, healed over when it should be fresh from a wound he'd had no hope of healing from, a wound that had drawn his last breath, and he spends a long moment staring at the way it peeks from his clothing, almost as if it shouldn't be there at all. It should't be, he supposes, just as Kili shouldn't be here, wherever they are.
"Where are we?" he asks, bringing one hand to his chest before looking back up at her, as if with renewed purpose. He hadn't believed this could last, seeing her and being with her and touching her, but it cannot be that they'd both be brought here only to be torn apart again if Kili isn't to be led to the Halls. Perhaps it is a foolish, fleeting thought, very much like the one he'd had of believing he could save them both, but Kili has never been one to flee from that. Foolish thoughts, it seems, have taken him to places he never could have imagined and here he sits, on the floor of the wood with the Elf-maiden who never should have loved him. This cannot be for nothing. "Tell me, amrâlimê, what is this place that it would bring you back to me? Just like our promise."