ᴍᴀʀᴀʟᴍɪᴢɪ | KILI DURIN¹ ❦

➺ Denial ➵

It wasn't long before I realised what I was doing. Baffled by my behaviour, I quickly exited the warmth of his embrace. It felt bittersweet, but that was hardly relevant over the fact that it happened at all.
I shifted to the other end of the little bench, regaining as much composure as I could.

"Apologies, that was unprofessional of me," I said awkwardly. It repulsed me to have been so vulnerable with a stranger.

"You haven't the need for an apology," he replied, looking a little sheepish.

I paused for a moment, unsure of what to say next. I imagined how my disappearance must have looked from the perspective of the dwarves; how weak did that make me seem? I bowed my head to my feet in anguish.

"Nobody saw weakness in your distress, if that's what is bothering you," Kili chimed softly, as if reading my thoughts, "If there is one thing my people can understand, it is loss." His fingers played nervously in his lap while his gaze shifted elsewhere.

With a nod, I remained silent. Kili stayed sat on the bench, tamed by the tension in the air. After a while, I spoke hoarsely, "What of Gandalf? Why did you come and not he?"

Kili appeared rejected by this. The dwarf responded bluntly, "He was bombarded with questions as soon as the door shut behind you. I thought to help where he could not."

"I see," A beat passed, "I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Kili."

The dwarf's dejected face grew cheery, roses returning to his cheeks. I continued, "You have a kind heart, I can tell that much. Though I do not know you well."

"You know that I like beer. As my brother says, that's all there really is to me," He jested.

"Hm," I smiled, "You're funny too, I suppose."

"A stream of compliments I've been bestowed with, it seems. Fancy me, do you?"

"Not at all."

"I must be losing my charm," He pouted.

"Not at all," I smiled.

The moon was full, with a lasting presence among the clouds. They gathered from the west, forecasting a night of rainfall. The fireflies were parading about the neighbouring flora, illuminating the moisture slicked on the leaves. One small luminous friend arrived to say hello to Kili, it landed on his head gently; he hadn't noticed a thing. Kili was a peculiar fellow. He was persistent to nab the heart of a total stranger—with no shame about him. I had never met anyone quite like him; it intrigued me in honesty, but I wasn't to let that sway my priorities. He was kind and pretty, but utterly naive.

"Seyda?"

"Hm?"

"I thought to apologise—uhm—for earlier. I didn't intend for my flattery to cause any discomfort. Your eyes are nothing like I've ever seen before, is all," Kili said.

I thought back to the comment he made in the study:

"... They're mesmerising to me. They remind me of fireflies after nightfall or the embers of a new born flame..."

I sighed in regret, "Well, in honesty, you had caught me off-guard. Many who have questioned my features in the past have done so with malice, but you were different. There was no judgement. All of your previous remarks and behaviours were silly to me, but this one spoke true kindness. You did nothing wrong."

"Ah, I see," Kili nodded with a smile, "Oh, and I am going to pretend that you did not just say my romantic gestures were silly," He joked.

"Oh, romantic, is that what they were? I just thought you had something in your eye every time you looked at me."

In that moment, I had truly forgotten the reason I was outside on that bench with the strange dwarf. The same bench that I had seen Bilbo basking on just that morning. Perhaps the bench was a beacon of contentment. Perhaps the bench was a sign of the many good things to come to the company of Thorin Oakenshield. Or perhaps it was just a bench, and the people who have sat on it are the true beholders of goodness in Middle-Earth. Kili included.