Too Darn Cute for Words
I haven't stopped writing fanfic, but I've been trying to finish one of my oldest WIPs and it decided to turn into a novel. It's already the longest thing I've ever written and still nowhere close to being done.
So here's a bit of silliness in the meantime to fill one of my old kinkmeme prompts. These vignettes probably could have been posted as separate chapters, but for reasons that should become clear by the end, one long story made more sense overall :) It may be the only other story that I post this year.
Title: Too Darn Cute for Words
Pairings: None (though slight hints of Kilbo)
Warnings: Mostly just ridiculousness/Smile-based manipulation
Word Count: 2996
Disclaimer: If I owned the hobbit it would be sillier
Summary: Five times Kíli's smile saved the day
“Kíli! What do you think you're doing?”
The dwarrowling froze in place, half sitting on the counter with one hand on his mother's jar of prized venison. That tone struck fear into the hearts of all misbehaving children. That voice was the last thing Kíli wished to hear right now.
Until I look, she isn't real. But the dwarrowling could only turn his head so slowly and he blanched when he finally met his mother's eyes. Dís was standing in the doorway, her scolding face pulled on, and Kíli felt a shiver of regret from head to toe. But he was a son of Durin and his uncle always said that Durin's sons stood against all challengers.
Of course, it was much too late to pretend that he wasn't stealing jerky - his mother wasn't blind - so the dwarrowling took refuge in audacity instead.
“There you are, mother!” Kíli exclaimed, smiling as brightly as he could. “Can you help me get this down?”
“I- What?” Dis asked. Her scowl melted into confusion, clearly thrown off guard by the lack of begging from her son.
“Please?” he wheedled. “Fíli had a rough sparring session with Dwalin and I thought some venison would make him feel better. But now I'm sort of stuck.”
Kíli wasn't really expecting this to work. Once his mother got over her surprise, she'd probably scold him even worse. But in for an anvil, in for the hammer. So the dwarrowling cranked up his grin another notch, trying to make his eyes wide and guileless. He smiled until his cheeks hurt, expecting to be shooed off the counter any second now. However, Dis still wasn't talking and as she looked at his wide smile, the annoyance in her eyes slowly disappeared.
“You're going to give me grey hair by the time you're eighty,” his mother sighed. The dwarrowdam walked forward and nudged Kíli off the counter, but didn't start to scold him afterwards. Instead, Dis opened the jar and took out two large pieces of venison before putting the container back on the top shelf.
“One for each of you,” she said, handing the jerky to her son. “Now run along until supper. And next time you want to cheer up your brother with my special venison, ask permission first.”
Kíli did as instructed, still not quite believing his good luck. However, it wasn't just luck, was it? And when the dwarrowling burst into the room that he shared with his brother, he waved the jerky in the air and shouted, “Fíli! My face is magic!”
---
---
“Do you think the hobbit is going to come with us?” Kíli asked his brother with a frown.
“I'm not sure,” Fíli answered. “He doesn't seem too fond of Thorin and his face got really pale when we brought up the dragon.”
“Well, we can't have that,” the younger dwarrow said. “We need him. And he looks like he could use an adventure anyway.”
Kíli nodded once decisively and then handed his drink to his brother. “Fíli, hold my beer.”
“Where are you going now?”
“I'm just gonna grease the wheels a bit,” was the reply. “Make sure he knows exactly how much he's appreciated.”
“Should've done that earlier, after you got his name wrong,” Fíli chided gently before taking a swig of his brother's beer.
“I thought it was a done deal. I didn't know we had to woo him,” Kíli protested. “Besides that was hours ago. It doesn't matter now. Just sit back and watch a master work.”
The other dwarrow just waved off his excuses and took another drink, hiding a fond smile behind his mug. Fíli had learned to roll with the punches where his brother was concerned. That hobbit is in for a surprise.
So he just watched as Kíli marched straight over to the fireplace where their host was tidying up his doilies. The young dwarrow squared his shoulders and then asked cheerily, “Hi, Mr. Baggins. Can I help?”
Bilbo startled at the question. He wasn't expecting any of the dwarves to bother him after the whole fainting incident. The hobbit had planned to keep himself busy until his uninvited guests finished their drinks, make slightly awkward farewells, and then return to his safe staid life again. No more ill-mannered dwarves bursting in to bother him.
He definitely didn't expect whatever this was. As though he'd let just anyone touch his mother's doilies. But Bilbo's polite refusal died on his lips when he turned around and saw the dwarf who'd spoken. It was one of the younger ones, Kimli or some such, and the force of his smile slammed into the hobbit like an unexpected hug.
Yavanna's grace, those dimples, Bilbo thought helplessly, struck too dumb to argue as the dwarf took the doilies from his hands.
“We're so excited to have you as our burglar,” Kíli said brightly while lining up the lace on the mantel carefully. “Uncle won't ever say it, but this quest means the world to him. He's dreamed of retaking Erebor since Fíli and I were children and it means so much that we were allowed to come along.”
The young dwarf chattered on, his smile somehow growing more heartfelt with every word. “It's true it could be dangerous, but we'll be right there with you. We'll do our best to ensure that you don't come to any harm.”
Kíli's eyes were wide and earnest, so earnest that the hobbit wasn't sure whether he wanted to pinch his cheeks or hug him until he squeaked. So Bilbo simply stammered, “Ah, I'm not sure if I'll agree. It's such a long way over the Misty Mountains and my folk don't really travel much.”
“Oh,” the dwarf replied, grin disappearing as his entire body drooped. “If you really don't want to join us, of course we'll understand. We'd never make you leave your home against your will.”
Kíli seemed sincere despite his clear disappointment, but that just made the hobbit feel even guiltier. Although Bilbo was standing by the fire, he shivered at the loss of the dwarf's smile, suddenly cold without that bright warmth aimed at him.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, he found himself thinking. Just one adventure like I always dreamed of and then I can go back to being respectable again.
“It's probably not that hard to be a burglar,” Bilbo said, his heart leaping traitorously when Kíli perked up instantly. “And just because we usually don't travel doesn't mean we can't.”
“Does that mean you'll join us?” the young dwarf asked, so eager, so hopeful that the hobbit nodded despite himself.
“Yes, I think it does.”
Then Kíli was beaming at him, dimples back in force, and strong arms wrapped around Bilbo's waist.
“Thank you!” the dwarf exclaimed, swinging him off his feet. “Uncle! We have our burglar!”
What have I agreed to? the hobbit wondered as the other dwarves gathered round and the contract was shoved back into his hands. This is probably a mistake.
But with Kíli grinning brightly, he couldn't bring himself to care.
---
---
“Send Kíli first,” Fíli said, interrupting their wizard's needlessly complicated introduction plan.
“What.” Gandalf sputtered. “But Beorn... We have to...”
“Make him like us so that we can stay in safety even though he dislikes both dwarves and visitors,” the dwarrow summarized. “I was listening. And you should send Kíli first. Maybe him and Bilbo to be certain; they look most innocent.”
“Yeah, we'll be great,” Kíli added, throwing an arm around the hobbit's shoulders and looking up at Gandalf pleadingly.
The wizard honestly held out longer than Fíli expected. He knew those dimples well. But when Bilbo threw his support behind the archer, Gandalf finally caved. He'd always had a soft spot for their burglar.
“Oh fine then,” the wizard muttered. “Come along.”
“Do your thing,” Fíli told his brother quietly, clapping him on the shoulder before the trio headed off into the night. Kíli didn't need any other advice.
Then the dwarrow settled back against a tree and made himself comfortable. He could hear his companions talking with each other, trying to decide what they would do if Beorn wouldn't give them shelter. But Fíli wasn't worried. He knew exactly how that meeting would play out.
Indeed, Gandalf and Bilbo walked back into the clearing barely twenty minutes later. The wizard told his companions to start gathering their gear but Fíli was packed already. So he just stayed seated as the hobbit dropped down next to him.
“Your brother is a menace,” Bilbo said, sounding slightly traumatized.
“Yep,” the dwarrow agreed laconically.
“That's why you volunteered him,” their burglar added.
“Yep,” Fíli said again. “Where is he now?”
“When we left, Beorn was introducing your brother to his beehives,” Bilbo answered. “Our new host was terrifying, ready to throw us out upon our ears. But Kíli just smiled at him and now they're the best of friends.”
“Sounds about right. It wouldn't be the first time,” the dwarrow told him and something seemed to click inside the hobbit's mind.
“ Kíli did that to me, didn't he?” Bilbo asked. “The night before we left. A pretty grin and pleading eyes and I folded instantly.”
“He was worried that you wouldn't come along,” Fíli told their burglar with a shrug. He didn't try to sugarcoat that revelation, no point in lying now. But the dwarrow kept one eye on Bilbo to see how he'd react. He didn't need the hobbit trying to hurt Kíli when they met up again. However, Bilbo simply shook his head with a soft sigh.
“Seriously, a menace,” the hobbit muttered. “But it isn't mind control. I might not have joined your quest without the nudge, but I signed that contract of my own free will and I can't regret it. Deep down I've always wanted to go an adventure and you seem to have your hands full. How in Yavanna's name do you keep him out of trouble?”
“Practice and that smile,” the dwarrow said with a grin of his own. “Besides, I've got you to help me now.”
“Yeah, I guess you do,” Bilbo replied, his chuckle tinged with disbelief. “I'm doomed, aren't I? Wrangling your brother is going to be a lifelong job.”
“Yep. But at least it won't be boring,” Fíli answered before climbing to his feet and offering the burglar a hand. “Come on. Let's go join Kíli before Beorn gets too attached. I don't want to fight another bear for my brother's company.”
---
---
Kíli wasn't sure that he could this. The dwarrow was hardly at his best now: tired, hungry and still covered with too many spider webs. But given that their company had just been dragged into the throne room of one very angry elf king, he didn't have too much to lose. Kíli had to try, preferably before his uncle spoke and ruined everything. There was no way that Thorin planned to be diplomatic with that glower on his face.
So the dwarrow inched forward slightly, saying a quick prayer of thanks to Mahal that Bilbo got away. At least their burglar would be free and clear if this plan went down in flames. Then Kíli plastered on his widest smile and exclaimed, “Thank you, great king Thranduil, for your hospitality.”
The entire room went silent as dwarves and elves alike stared at him in shock. But Kíli was used to being stared at, so he just barreled forward anyway.
“You have our gratitude for saving our company from those spiders. We likely would have died without your aid and the skill of your warriors was truly exceptional,” Kíli continued, focusing his attention on the trio at the far side of the room: the king, his captain, and what was likely Thranduil's son. “I know we've imposed upon you already, but a place to rest our aching heads would be divine. It's been ages since we've had the chance to sleep in a real bed.”
With each sentence, the dwarrow added a bit more sparkle to his expression. Kíli widened his eyes, aiming for the perfect pleading expression that even his mother still folded to sometimes. He smiled and waited until the silence finally broke beneath a lilting voice.
“Father, what is happening?” Legolas asked in elvish, not willing to sound uncertain before their prisoners.
“He seems to be saying thank you,” the king answered. Thranduil's face was expressionless, stern and cold as stone, but his eyes kept drifting back to the young dwarf's grin.
“I know that,” the prince hissed. “But why do I...”
Legolas trailed off as he stared at Kíli, his tone now slightly horrified. But the dwarf met his gaze with an even brighter smile and eventually the elf couldn't hold back anymore. “Why do I want to pinch his cheeks and say that he'll be fine?”
“Oh you too?” their captain asked with a slight hint of relief. “I thought that maybe I was just going mad. Do we have to throw them in the dungeons?”
“These dwarves are our enemies!” Thranduil snapped, both prince and captain jolting upright at the tone. But then the elf king met Kíli's shining eyes again. “He is... very young, isn't he? Barely more than a child. And several of his companions seem just as young as well. Perhaps only the elders need be locked away.”
“That could work,” Legolas agreed. “Except... they're probably friends or family. What if it makes him sad?”
The prince spoke the word with a touch of horror, already imagining those wide eyes filled with tears. There hadn't been an elfling in Mirkwood for as long as he could remember and this young dwarf was stirring protective instincts Legolas hadn't known he even had.
Next to him, the captain actually sniffled and a cold chill ran down Thranduil's spine. Because he could picture it too, that bright joy turned to sorrow, this child lost and grieving once he was ripped from his kin. It was far too clear an image. One where the elf king was the villain and he couldn't let that stand. The dwarf's smile was a shining sun within the dark of Mirkwood, like Thranduil hadn't felt in far too long, and he couldn't be the one who snuffed it out.
“I could just imprison Thorin,” he suggested weakly. “Would he truly mind just one?”
But Thranduil already knew the answer to that question. He could already see the pleading and he let out a deep sigh.
“Curse me for a fool,” the elf king muttered before standing from the throne to address the dwarves at last. Most of them watched him warily, having understood exactly none of that soft conversation. However, Kíli just kept on grinning up at him.
“Welcome to Mirkwood,” Thranduil pronounced. “Your eloquence in gratitude is well met within these halls and you have indeed found succor. Rest and recover from your travels so that you may leave these woods swiftly before I change my mind.”
That last was delivered with a pointed glare toward Thorin and only Balin's sharp elbow stopped the dwarf lord from retorting back in kind.
“Legolas will show you where to go,” the elf king continued, waving his son forward to take charge of their guests. As the prince walked by, Thranduil murmured quietly, “Give Thorin the smallest room, the one with that bad draft.”
Just because he was surrendering to the inevitable didn't mean that Thorin shouldn't suffer at least a little for his pains. Legolas simply nodded his agreement before corralling the dwarves and ushering them toward to the door.
“All right then, follow me.”
The elf prince didn't remember most of the walk through his palace. As soon as they left the throne room, that young dwarf started chattering about archery and his smile was even more blinding this close up. Indeed, by the time Legolas dropped him and his brother off at the last room, the biggest and most comfortable of course, the prince had somehow agreed to an archery lesson bright and early the next day.
“Rest well,” he told them, ushering the dwarves inside and then wandering back down the hall in a slight daze. Kíli just waved goodbye before closing the door and flopping face first on the bed.
“Oh my lord, this is amazing,” the dwarrow groaned. “Fíli, you have to feel this mattress.”
However, his brother simply shook his head in amusement and sat down in a nearby chair to take his boots off first. Fíli had just finished when the door suddenly creaked open and both dwarves tensed in alarm. But it was only their burglar slipping quietly into the room.
“Bilbo! You're all right!” Kíli practically shouted, lunging for the hobbit. The dwarrow grabbed him by the arms and pulled him into a hug, dragging him down onto the bed. Bilbo hugged him back, tightly enough that Kíli's ribs creaked, before settling beside him more comfortably.
“I'm all right and so are you,” their burglar said. “Though I can't believe King Thranduil actually gave you rooms to stay in. I thought I'd be forced to stage a prison break for sure.”
“You had me worried, brother,” Fíli admitted. “I wasn't sure that you'd pull through this time around. Elves really seem they should be immune.”
“I know, right? But apparently my face truly is magic,” Kíli told him with a laugh before speaking words that struck terror into his brother's heart. “Hey, Bilbo, do you think my dimples would work on dragons too?”
---
---
As it turned out, yes, they did.
End
So here's a bit of silliness in the meantime to fill one of my old kinkmeme prompts. These vignettes probably could have been posted as separate chapters, but for reasons that should become clear by the end, one long story made more sense overall :) It may be the only other story that I post this year.
Title: Too Darn Cute for Words
Pairings: None (though slight hints of Kilbo)
Warnings: Mostly just ridiculousness/Smile-based manipulation
Word Count: 2996
Disclaimer: If I owned the hobbit it would be sillier
Summary: Five times Kíli's smile saved the day
“Kíli! What do you think you're doing?”
The dwarrowling froze in place, half sitting on the counter with one hand on his mother's jar of prized venison. That tone struck fear into the hearts of all misbehaving children. That voice was the last thing Kíli wished to hear right now.
Until I look, she isn't real. But the dwarrowling could only turn his head so slowly and he blanched when he finally met his mother's eyes. Dís was standing in the doorway, her scolding face pulled on, and Kíli felt a shiver of regret from head to toe. But he was a son of Durin and his uncle always said that Durin's sons stood against all challengers.
Of course, it was much too late to pretend that he wasn't stealing jerky - his mother wasn't blind - so the dwarrowling took refuge in audacity instead.
“There you are, mother!” Kíli exclaimed, smiling as brightly as he could. “Can you help me get this down?”
“I- What?” Dis asked. Her scowl melted into confusion, clearly thrown off guard by the lack of begging from her son.
“Please?” he wheedled. “Fíli had a rough sparring session with Dwalin and I thought some venison would make him feel better. But now I'm sort of stuck.”
Kíli wasn't really expecting this to work. Once his mother got over her surprise, she'd probably scold him even worse. But in for an anvil, in for the hammer. So the dwarrowling cranked up his grin another notch, trying to make his eyes wide and guileless. He smiled until his cheeks hurt, expecting to be shooed off the counter any second now. However, Dis still wasn't talking and as she looked at his wide smile, the annoyance in her eyes slowly disappeared.
“You're going to give me grey hair by the time you're eighty,” his mother sighed. The dwarrowdam walked forward and nudged Kíli off the counter, but didn't start to scold him afterwards. Instead, Dis opened the jar and took out two large pieces of venison before putting the container back on the top shelf.
“One for each of you,” she said, handing the jerky to her son. “Now run along until supper. And next time you want to cheer up your brother with my special venison, ask permission first.”
Kíli did as instructed, still not quite believing his good luck. However, it wasn't just luck, was it? And when the dwarrowling burst into the room that he shared with his brother, he waved the jerky in the air and shouted, “Fíli! My face is magic!”
---
---
“Do you think the hobbit is going to come with us?” Kíli asked his brother with a frown.
“I'm not sure,” Fíli answered. “He doesn't seem too fond of Thorin and his face got really pale when we brought up the dragon.”
“Well, we can't have that,” the younger dwarrow said. “We need him. And he looks like he could use an adventure anyway.”
Kíli nodded once decisively and then handed his drink to his brother. “Fíli, hold my beer.”
“Where are you going now?”
“I'm just gonna grease the wheels a bit,” was the reply. “Make sure he knows exactly how much he's appreciated.”
“Should've done that earlier, after you got his name wrong,” Fíli chided gently before taking a swig of his brother's beer.
“I thought it was a done deal. I didn't know we had to woo him,” Kíli protested. “Besides that was hours ago. It doesn't matter now. Just sit back and watch a master work.”
The other dwarrow just waved off his excuses and took another drink, hiding a fond smile behind his mug. Fíli had learned to roll with the punches where his brother was concerned. That hobbit is in for a surprise.
So he just watched as Kíli marched straight over to the fireplace where their host was tidying up his doilies. The young dwarrow squared his shoulders and then asked cheerily, “Hi, Mr. Baggins. Can I help?”
Bilbo startled at the question. He wasn't expecting any of the dwarves to bother him after the whole fainting incident. The hobbit had planned to keep himself busy until his uninvited guests finished their drinks, make slightly awkward farewells, and then return to his safe staid life again. No more ill-mannered dwarves bursting in to bother him.
He definitely didn't expect whatever this was. As though he'd let just anyone touch his mother's doilies. But Bilbo's polite refusal died on his lips when he turned around and saw the dwarf who'd spoken. It was one of the younger ones, Kimli or some such, and the force of his smile slammed into the hobbit like an unexpected hug.
Yavanna's grace, those dimples, Bilbo thought helplessly, struck too dumb to argue as the dwarf took the doilies from his hands.
“We're so excited to have you as our burglar,” Kíli said brightly while lining up the lace on the mantel carefully. “Uncle won't ever say it, but this quest means the world to him. He's dreamed of retaking Erebor since Fíli and I were children and it means so much that we were allowed to come along.”
The young dwarf chattered on, his smile somehow growing more heartfelt with every word. “It's true it could be dangerous, but we'll be right there with you. We'll do our best to ensure that you don't come to any harm.”
Kíli's eyes were wide and earnest, so earnest that the hobbit wasn't sure whether he wanted to pinch his cheeks or hug him until he squeaked. So Bilbo simply stammered, “Ah, I'm not sure if I'll agree. It's such a long way over the Misty Mountains and my folk don't really travel much.”
“Oh,” the dwarf replied, grin disappearing as his entire body drooped. “If you really don't want to join us, of course we'll understand. We'd never make you leave your home against your will.”
Kíli seemed sincere despite his clear disappointment, but that just made the hobbit feel even guiltier. Although Bilbo was standing by the fire, he shivered at the loss of the dwarf's smile, suddenly cold without that bright warmth aimed at him.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, he found himself thinking. Just one adventure like I always dreamed of and then I can go back to being respectable again.
“It's probably not that hard to be a burglar,” Bilbo said, his heart leaping traitorously when Kíli perked up instantly. “And just because we usually don't travel doesn't mean we can't.”
“Does that mean you'll join us?” the young dwarf asked, so eager, so hopeful that the hobbit nodded despite himself.
“Yes, I think it does.”
Then Kíli was beaming at him, dimples back in force, and strong arms wrapped around Bilbo's waist.
“Thank you!” the dwarf exclaimed, swinging him off his feet. “Uncle! We have our burglar!”
What have I agreed to? the hobbit wondered as the other dwarves gathered round and the contract was shoved back into his hands. This is probably a mistake.
But with Kíli grinning brightly, he couldn't bring himself to care.
---
---
“Send Kíli first,” Fíli said, interrupting their wizard's needlessly complicated introduction plan.
“What.” Gandalf sputtered. “But Beorn... We have to...”
“Make him like us so that we can stay in safety even though he dislikes both dwarves and visitors,” the dwarrow summarized. “I was listening. And you should send Kíli first. Maybe him and Bilbo to be certain; they look most innocent.”
“Yeah, we'll be great,” Kíli added, throwing an arm around the hobbit's shoulders and looking up at Gandalf pleadingly.
The wizard honestly held out longer than Fíli expected. He knew those dimples well. But when Bilbo threw his support behind the archer, Gandalf finally caved. He'd always had a soft spot for their burglar.
“Oh fine then,” the wizard muttered. “Come along.”
“Do your thing,” Fíli told his brother quietly, clapping him on the shoulder before the trio headed off into the night. Kíli didn't need any other advice.
Then the dwarrow settled back against a tree and made himself comfortable. He could hear his companions talking with each other, trying to decide what they would do if Beorn wouldn't give them shelter. But Fíli wasn't worried. He knew exactly how that meeting would play out.
Indeed, Gandalf and Bilbo walked back into the clearing barely twenty minutes later. The wizard told his companions to start gathering their gear but Fíli was packed already. So he just stayed seated as the hobbit dropped down next to him.
“Your brother is a menace,” Bilbo said, sounding slightly traumatized.
“Yep,” the dwarrow agreed laconically.
“That's why you volunteered him,” their burglar added.
“Yep,” Fíli said again. “Where is he now?”
“When we left, Beorn was introducing your brother to his beehives,” Bilbo answered. “Our new host was terrifying, ready to throw us out upon our ears. But Kíli just smiled at him and now they're the best of friends.”
“Sounds about right. It wouldn't be the first time,” the dwarrow told him and something seemed to click inside the hobbit's mind.
“ Kíli did that to me, didn't he?” Bilbo asked. “The night before we left. A pretty grin and pleading eyes and I folded instantly.”
“He was worried that you wouldn't come along,” Fíli told their burglar with a shrug. He didn't try to sugarcoat that revelation, no point in lying now. But the dwarrow kept one eye on Bilbo to see how he'd react. He didn't need the hobbit trying to hurt Kíli when they met up again. However, Bilbo simply shook his head with a soft sigh.
“Seriously, a menace,” the hobbit muttered. “But it isn't mind control. I might not have joined your quest without the nudge, but I signed that contract of my own free will and I can't regret it. Deep down I've always wanted to go an adventure and you seem to have your hands full. How in Yavanna's name do you keep him out of trouble?”
“Practice and that smile,” the dwarrow said with a grin of his own. “Besides, I've got you to help me now.”
“Yeah, I guess you do,” Bilbo replied, his chuckle tinged with disbelief. “I'm doomed, aren't I? Wrangling your brother is going to be a lifelong job.”
“Yep. But at least it won't be boring,” Fíli answered before climbing to his feet and offering the burglar a hand. “Come on. Let's go join Kíli before Beorn gets too attached. I don't want to fight another bear for my brother's company.”
---
---
Kíli wasn't sure that he could this. The dwarrow was hardly at his best now: tired, hungry and still covered with too many spider webs. But given that their company had just been dragged into the throne room of one very angry elf king, he didn't have too much to lose. Kíli had to try, preferably before his uncle spoke and ruined everything. There was no way that Thorin planned to be diplomatic with that glower on his face.
So the dwarrow inched forward slightly, saying a quick prayer of thanks to Mahal that Bilbo got away. At least their burglar would be free and clear if this plan went down in flames. Then Kíli plastered on his widest smile and exclaimed, “Thank you, great king Thranduil, for your hospitality.”
The entire room went silent as dwarves and elves alike stared at him in shock. But Kíli was used to being stared at, so he just barreled forward anyway.
“You have our gratitude for saving our company from those spiders. We likely would have died without your aid and the skill of your warriors was truly exceptional,” Kíli continued, focusing his attention on the trio at the far side of the room: the king, his captain, and what was likely Thranduil's son. “I know we've imposed upon you already, but a place to rest our aching heads would be divine. It's been ages since we've had the chance to sleep in a real bed.”
With each sentence, the dwarrow added a bit more sparkle to his expression. Kíli widened his eyes, aiming for the perfect pleading expression that even his mother still folded to sometimes. He smiled and waited until the silence finally broke beneath a lilting voice.
“Father, what is happening?” Legolas asked in elvish, not willing to sound uncertain before their prisoners.
“He seems to be saying thank you,” the king answered. Thranduil's face was expressionless, stern and cold as stone, but his eyes kept drifting back to the young dwarf's grin.
“I know that,” the prince hissed. “But why do I...”
Legolas trailed off as he stared at Kíli, his tone now slightly horrified. But the dwarf met his gaze with an even brighter smile and eventually the elf couldn't hold back anymore. “Why do I want to pinch his cheeks and say that he'll be fine?”
“Oh you too?” their captain asked with a slight hint of relief. “I thought that maybe I was just going mad. Do we have to throw them in the dungeons?”
“These dwarves are our enemies!” Thranduil snapped, both prince and captain jolting upright at the tone. But then the elf king met Kíli's shining eyes again. “He is... very young, isn't he? Barely more than a child. And several of his companions seem just as young as well. Perhaps only the elders need be locked away.”
“That could work,” Legolas agreed. “Except... they're probably friends or family. What if it makes him sad?”
The prince spoke the word with a touch of horror, already imagining those wide eyes filled with tears. There hadn't been an elfling in Mirkwood for as long as he could remember and this young dwarf was stirring protective instincts Legolas hadn't known he even had.
Next to him, the captain actually sniffled and a cold chill ran down Thranduil's spine. Because he could picture it too, that bright joy turned to sorrow, this child lost and grieving once he was ripped from his kin. It was far too clear an image. One where the elf king was the villain and he couldn't let that stand. The dwarf's smile was a shining sun within the dark of Mirkwood, like Thranduil hadn't felt in far too long, and he couldn't be the one who snuffed it out.
“I could just imprison Thorin,” he suggested weakly. “Would he truly mind just one?”
But Thranduil already knew the answer to that question. He could already see the pleading and he let out a deep sigh.
“Curse me for a fool,” the elf king muttered before standing from the throne to address the dwarves at last. Most of them watched him warily, having understood exactly none of that soft conversation. However, Kíli just kept on grinning up at him.
“Welcome to Mirkwood,” Thranduil pronounced. “Your eloquence in gratitude is well met within these halls and you have indeed found succor. Rest and recover from your travels so that you may leave these woods swiftly before I change my mind.”
That last was delivered with a pointed glare toward Thorin and only Balin's sharp elbow stopped the dwarf lord from retorting back in kind.
“Legolas will show you where to go,” the elf king continued, waving his son forward to take charge of their guests. As the prince walked by, Thranduil murmured quietly, “Give Thorin the smallest room, the one with that bad draft.”
Just because he was surrendering to the inevitable didn't mean that Thorin shouldn't suffer at least a little for his pains. Legolas simply nodded his agreement before corralling the dwarves and ushering them toward to the door.
“All right then, follow me.”
The elf prince didn't remember most of the walk through his palace. As soon as they left the throne room, that young dwarf started chattering about archery and his smile was even more blinding this close up. Indeed, by the time Legolas dropped him and his brother off at the last room, the biggest and most comfortable of course, the prince had somehow agreed to an archery lesson bright and early the next day.
“Rest well,” he told them, ushering the dwarves inside and then wandering back down the hall in a slight daze. Kíli just waved goodbye before closing the door and flopping face first on the bed.
“Oh my lord, this is amazing,” the dwarrow groaned. “Fíli, you have to feel this mattress.”
However, his brother simply shook his head in amusement and sat down in a nearby chair to take his boots off first. Fíli had just finished when the door suddenly creaked open and both dwarves tensed in alarm. But it was only their burglar slipping quietly into the room.
“Bilbo! You're all right!” Kíli practically shouted, lunging for the hobbit. The dwarrow grabbed him by the arms and pulled him into a hug, dragging him down onto the bed. Bilbo hugged him back, tightly enough that Kíli's ribs creaked, before settling beside him more comfortably.
“I'm all right and so are you,” their burglar said. “Though I can't believe King Thranduil actually gave you rooms to stay in. I thought I'd be forced to stage a prison break for sure.”
“You had me worried, brother,” Fíli admitted. “I wasn't sure that you'd pull through this time around. Elves really seem they should be immune.”
“I know, right? But apparently my face truly is magic,” Kíli told him with a laugh before speaking words that struck terror into his brother's heart. “Hey, Bilbo, do you think my dimples would work on dragons too?”
---
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As it turned out, yes, they did.
End