Chapter 14 - The Passing
Clash.
Dodge.
Aim.
Pierce.
Move on.
How many times already?
How many times more?
His muscles were sore and his breath short, yet naught could he feel nor think of. For the pain was overwhelming. The pain and...
Emptiness.
An empty void was burning in his chest. As a hole left after ripping one's heart out, leaving the hot blood dripping from the open wound, filling his lungs, suffocating him.
An ever bleeding wound.
No.
Clash.
Dodge.
Aim.
Pierce.
Move on.
How many times already?
How many times more?
It didn't matter. It hurt so much. So much. Too much.
He... He wasn't trying to ease the pain. He was not trying to drown his grief in orc blood. He...
He was not trying to live.
Did he want to live? Does he want to die?
Clash.
Dodge.
Aim.
Pierce.
Move on.
Fili...
How? How could he live without him? Without his brother? Without himself? For without Fili he felt incomplete. Damaged. Ripped apart.
His brother was his everything. And he would not have it any other way. He would not trade his beloved brother for naught else. No amount of treasure or power would he trade him for. No poem, battle song or never dying glory would ease his pain.
For he was incomplete.
And could an incomplete person even exist?
Clash.
Dodge.
Aim.
Pierce.
Move on.
By Mahal, he would take them all. He would kill them. Slash their bodies and spill their blood. End them.
They took his brother.
He took his brother.
And Kili, son of Dis, sister-son of Thorin Oakenshield, would avenge him.
Reckless? Young? Foolish?
Yes.
Three times yes to all of that.
For it did not matter.
His recklessness would give him courage to stand against so many enemies alone. His youth would give him energy to stand tall against them. His foolishness would give him a blind eye towards his own inevitable doom.
For it did not matter.
Clash.
Dodge.
Aim.
Pierce.
Move on.
Could an incomplete person even exist?
Could a person perish from anger? From such immense pain that he felt as if his soul would burn through his body, leaving his flesh in a pile of ash.
Such pain. Unimaginable pain.
His chest was so full of pressure. Of tangible rage that felt like thousands burning spikes driven through his flesh.
Clash.
Dodge.
Aim.
Pierce.
Move on.
It did not bring him ease. It did not bring him peace.
It only filled him with more rage. With pure fire, as if the great Forger himself lit its flames in his cold body of stone.
Countless had fallen. Countless. His sword ended lives of so many. So many... Dead were beyond count. Death was beyond measure.
But it was not enough. It would never be enough.
As he was ascending the stairs, a tall orc faced him, losing his head before he could even understand what was happening. Kili would not be derailed. He would not be thrown off his path. Of a path that was really leading nowhere.
For where could he go? Where could he be? What could he do to ease the raging pain that was boiling his blood and blurring his vision?
Even if he knew what to do, where to go... would he? Did he want to live on without his brother? Did he want to continue this empty existence, living as an empty shell...
Another orc. Another clash of metal on metal. Another dodge of the fatal blow. Another hit. Another spring of black blood. Another accursed monster sent to the void.
Time mattered not to him. Time stopped a while ego. Ever since his brother fell, every minute has been as long as the age of the earth itself.
If he cared for such things, he might have asked himself how long had he been slaying every orc that still drew breath. How long had he been there alone, like a flame in the snow, burning its way through the frost...
But time did not matter. Time had stopped.
Clash.
Dodge.
Aim.
Pierce.
Move on.
But his breath hitched in his throat. His heart skipped a beat. For he had heard a voice calling his name... Yet this voice was scared, filled with emotion and fear.
It was different from the mad screams echoing through his head.
The orc before him met his end. And again, his heart stopped.
"Kili!"
Her voice echoed through the emptiness. Through the cold air around him and the flames inside of him. It was her. Her. She was here.
She...
Tauriel.
It could not be.
It was not possible.
It could not be.
For she was worlds away. Walking in ethereal starlight, her beauty evergreen in the vastness of eternity. She was away. Oh, so far away. So far away from him...
Not..
Not here... Not here, with him...
Not here, looking for him... Trying to save his worthless life once more... Always...
Not...
No.
No.
No. Not her. Not her as well.
She could not be here.
Not. Here.
"Tauriel!"
A cry escaped his throat before he could grasp it. Before he could stop both fear and relief escaping his lungs.
She really was here.
But he was not.
He was not there.
He was an unworthy empty shell. Pain and rage eating through him ate away the poor remainder of him, leaving him completely empty.
He was dead.
Yet still... The thought of her surrounded by the same dirty black stone that took away his brother... The thought of her... The thought of losing her...
No.
Not her.
Not her as well.
He had failed him. He had failed Fili. He had failed his brother.
He could not save him. He did not save him.
He was too far and too late.
He was worthless.
But her... Her he could save still.
Her he could save...
As another orc lost its sorry life on the end of his sword, he leapt towards the same stairs he had ascended moments before.
Or were it hours? Days?
He trailed the same sweet air that brought her voice to him, jumping over stones and dead bodies bathed in their own black blood.
She was not worlds away. Once again, she was there. So close. So near.
Amrâlimê...
She was here. Once again, she came for him. She called for him. The empty shell of a dwarf ran through the snow, holding onto her breath as onto life.
But her whimpers and cries reached him. And filled him with horror.
Not her.
No.
He had failed his brother. He would not fail her as well.
Not her...
She was there. Lying on the ground. Her fiery hair was sprawled over the dirty snow, like open flames warming the cold winter morning.
But her emerald eyes were scared. For she was holding no weapon. And an orc was nearing her...
Without a thought, without even a doubt, he leapt onto the devil's back. His sword missed its mark by only a little and the accursed orc blocked his attack.
His eyes met hers and relief washed over him. Her soft but immensely worried eyes brought him relief beyond hope.
And there, he found his relief. On the back of an orc, in a clash of swords, his pain eased. It would never truly go away, no... But he found a meaning. A goal. Something to hold onto.
The lone thought of saving her drove him forward. The thought of giving away everything he had ever had just to save her from the fear that worried those beautiful eyes...
It drove him.
It brought him back.
When thought dead, she brought him back.
When thought gone, she returned him.
All that mattered was she. Her safety.
He had failed his brother. He would not fail his love.
She would live. She would live on...
When the orc disarmed him and grabbed his throat, he felt neither fear no regret. For she would have enough time to flee and save her life.
But no. Once again, she tried to save him. Once again she tried to save his life when he was beyond saving. But she did not understand.
He needed not saving. Even if he could be saved no more, she had already saved him so utterly and entirely...
He had failed his brother. He would not fail her.
He would save her.
She would flee. She surely would. This orc would not be the end of her. She would go on and live a life full of starlight and happiness. And he would watch over her, only hoping for a glimpse of laughter in her eyes when she finally sees a firemoon...
When the cold steel pierced his chest, he felt pain... But it still could not overshadow the pain that already was there, though dulled. The empty void in his breast was still filled with acid, yet now a real hole formed. Now a blade pierced his heart, forcing it to stop.
Now his life would end.
He had failed his brother. But soon enough, he would fall on his knees before him and ask him for forgiveness. Soon enough they would be together.
Fili and Kili.
One would never go where the other could not follow.
But...
Why was she still there? Why could she not leave?
Why was she lying on the ground, so devastated and utterly broken? Tears trailed paths across her freckled skin, watering her green eyes...
Why was she crying?
She loved him. Oh, yes, she loved him. She loved him...
Maybe even as much as he loved her.
Amrâlimê...
He would have given the last of his strength last just to wipe those tears away...
He would have given the last of his breath just to tell her those three simple words.
I love you.
But breath hitched in his throat again. And now he could no longer catch it. His lungs felt like cold stone, unable to welcome the fresh air, releasing venomous pain instead.
His vision blurred. Shadows lurking on the edge were slowly creeping onwards. Light was blurred. Dimmed.
Yet still, he could see her. Her fiery hair and emerald eyes shone like his personal beacon in the night.
When blackness surrounded him, he still saw her, like a personal goddess guarding his soul.
But he could not speak. He could not tell her.
She knew.
He had said it already. He had used the secret, ancient language of his people. He had spoken the words only meant to be spoken between the two souls pledged to one another.
But still... He wanted to tell her.
He wanted her to know. Even if she knew already.
It was his last chance...
A tear escaped him. A tear of both happiness and grief.
For he had given all he could to save her. And she would be saved.
But he would never see her again.
Not in the afterlife. Not in the Halls of Awaiting, for she was not of his kind. The Light of the Eldar shining in her would never lead her to him.
It was only a dream.
But that dream was so very real.
Before the darkness claimed him, he smiled, for he could do no more.
Never would he tell her how she had saved him so completely. Never would he tell her how much he loved her...
Never...
Never would he taste the sweetness of her lips again. Nor hold her in his arms.
Never would they have a future.
It was only a dream.
But that dream... It was so very real.
He could see naught but darkness. Deep, black, cold darkness. His back hit the hard floor, but he felt neither pain nor discomfort. Where once was pain, pain was no more. Coldness first gripped his fingers, and slowly crept upon him. But it was cooling. Refreshing.
The darkness was before him, around him... in him.
The cold... It was darkness itself. And the darkness was cold.
Deep inside of him... was it even inside of him? He felt the light... Light brighter than the darkness. But it too was inviting the shadows in. Calling for them. Welcoming them.
The darkness crept upon him, yet he dreaded it no more.
Parts of it before him were lighter, almost the colour of that granite stones he and Fili had discovered in the mines of Ered Luin. Upon death, the dwarves would return to stone, surely... Rich red lines, beautiful like the fires of the forge, broke the surface of the dark stone, dancing like flames in the night.
He remembered a fire so bright and emeralds so ethereal, it filled him with warmth. But where warmth came, soon coolness claimed its place. And he could not find it in him to object...
But then he heard. He heard a voice calling him. Crying for him. Moaning. Wailing... It was faint. Oh, so far away... Yet he heard it still.
Sad it was, the voice. Beyond sad. He could feel the grief within it as the cries became fainter. Slowly, oh so slowly the voice vanished. And he could hear it no more.
How many ages have passed? How many?
The never ending darkness consumed him so completely. He felt neither time nor life within him. Yet he still felt.
After ages of darkness, shadows became fainter. The comfortable coolness was slowly withdrawing its fingers off his body. Warmth was soon filling him, slowly, yet steadily... until he could feel life within him once more.
As if unsure, he slowly drew a small breath... a breath that filled his lungs with air so sweet...
Shadows were now gone. Golden light danced before his closed eyelids. A light strong, but so pure, so... beautiful...
When he opened his eyes, the light bothered him not. For it too was as sweet as the air.
His gaze met the ceiling so high, so pure... it seemed to be crafted from light itself. Beautiful it was. Breathtaking...
As Kili of the Line of Durin slowly stood up from whence he lied, his eyes met what he thought was gone.
An unruly mane of golden hair surrounded the beloved face of his brother. Of his fallen brother. Him who had died and was now standing before him with a warm smile on his lips.
Fili...
His uncle was beside him. Thorin. Looking younger than he had ever seen him. The greys in his hair were darker, the burden on his shoulders seemed lighter...
A small company of dwarves stood before him, all proud and regal in death as they were in life. He knew their faces even though he had never seen them before. Frerin. Thrain. Thror. His uncle, grandfather and great-grandfather all shared a warm smile pointed at him. And...
And...
And a young dwarf with unruly fair hair and blue eyes. Something about him... all about him reminded him of his brother, only as if he had suddenly grew older...
It... It could not be... But in his heart, he knew it was.
As Kili lied his eyes on his father for the first time in his life, he knew he was where he belonged. He knew he was with his family... And they would help him bear the pain of loss throughout the eternity...
For he was now amongst the stars.
He was now the one far away. So far away. He was walking in starlight in another world.
He was now the one so far away. So far away from her.
Forever...
AN: Gosh, I started writing this chapter, and I swear, I rewrote it a thousand times! I'm still not satisfied entirely.
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And remember - THIS IS NOT THE END!
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