The Heart of a Warrior

Toxin of Spiders

Kili heaved a breath as he watched Elves surround him, his brother, and the eleven other dwarves. The leader of the elven group, who had shining blonde hair and thin eyebrows, shouted something to the other elves in... Sindarin? Kili wasn't vast upon his knowledge of language, but he had studied Sindarin for quite a time. An elf stalked up to Kili and heaved him upon his booted feet; Kili had been resting upon a pile of leaves covered in spider web before. After the fight with the spiders, Kili had found himself rushed with adrenaline, and found nothing to be wrong with him. But, as the elf yanked Kili up and placed him on his feet, the dwarf swooned. Kili stumbled forward and fell, scattering leaves around him. The elven guard who had put the dwarf up snickered.

Balin the dwarf was known for his kind nature. And if there was anyone that could tell that another someone was hurt or sad, it was him. And as Balin looked around at the elves with stern but fair faces, his eyes fell upon a certain dwarf that was lying on the ground, with leaves covering his back. Balin rushed over to the fallen dwarf, and asked, "Are you alright, Kili?" The younger dwarf pushed himself upward, and Balin offered a gloved hand. "I'm fine, Balin." But Balin knew that something was wrong with his younger cousin.

Fili suddenly emerged from the shadows and looked worriedly at Balin, then gestured over to his brother. "A spider must have racked him up on poison. Kili feels warm, and his cheeks are rosy." Balin quietly told Fili. And just as if nature was putting Balin's words to work, Kili fell limp, and collapsed to the ground.

Kili awoke to a calloused hand upon his forehead. The coolness of the touch made the hot dwarf relax. "Balin- wh-what happened?" Kili's grating voice sounded like a broken record, but it was the best that he could do as the dwarf felt trickles of fire leap up in his veins. Kili wildly looked around, trying to see where he was. His turquoise eyes finally focused and fell on the dwarf whom had his hand resting on Kili's febrile temple. Balin sighed. "You are harrowed with spider poison. And... You have a slight fever running."

"A fever?" Kili questioned his throat scratchy. "Balin, you always overreact. I am fine." Balin grunted. "We'll see, my young cousin." Kili felt himself moving, but he wasn't active. "Who-"Kili looked up to see his brother's face, scrunched with worry. Fili had readjusted his brother to make Kili more comfortable. "I am sorry, brother. I regarded you as uncomfortable." Fili cleared his throat as pushed himself up and responded, "Oh, I am just annoyed that Balin keeps telling me that I have somehow contracted a fever."

Balin's white, bushy eyebrows lowered in frustration. "I know a fever when I see one. You can't deny it. Anyway, you look like you have just run a mile! Can't you rest a while?" Balin pleaded. The three cousins heard a grunt behind them. Then, a flat voice said stiffly, "There will be no resting right now. Prince Thranduillion is taking everyone to his father, and our king's palace." The voice was austere, and its owner was an elf. While speaking, the elf had cunningly slipped bounds around each of the dwarf's hands. "Drat!" Fili exclaimed loudly, "we should have escaped when we had the chance!" The elf drew a silver knife, intricately designed, and threatingly said, "Make one move, dwarf, and I will lacerate you." His voice was as cold and as deadly as ice. Fili balled his hands into fists and growled. Kili couldn't stand it anymore. "Eca, a mitta lambetya cendelesse orcova!" He was cranky and tired, and wasn't going to put up with any nonsense. The elf was clearly taken aback by the comment, but didn't respond.

Prince Legolas Thranduillion was an elf of high power. He stood erect on a rotting log, and looked around at the scene that was playing out in front of his seething blue eyes. As he watched the dwarves being bound, an elf with swarthy skin, brown eyes, and dark brown eyes walked up to the prince. "They are all here, Prince of Logs." The elf stifled a laugh as he walked away. "I will tell my father of this Keth-ather!" Legolas jokingly called. Keth-ather was Legolas's right-hand, and the Prince's father was on great terms with Keth-ather's father, Vonama." Move out!" He yelled to the other elves, and jumped off of his perch.

Kili leaned heavily upon his older cousin as the dwarfs were taken to the heart of Mirkwood. He was starting to think that a short rest would feel good at this moment. "Hypochondriac," he scolded himself quietly for thinking of such a thing. "Sorry, I didn't catch that. What was it that you said?" Balin asked Kili, expectantly waiting for an answer. "Oh," Kili stuttered," it was nothing." Kili hated to lie, but he also detested to admit that he was wrong. Kili felt a tickle in his throat, and coughed. Before long, he was half bent over, hacking up his lungs. Keth-ather heard the dwarf's distress, and sighed. "King Thranduil will not like this," Legolas warned, as Keth-ather pulled back from the Prince's side and walked to the dwarf. Keth-ather took from his leather belt that hung around his slim waist a small alembic, and popped the cap off. "Drink this," he urged the dwarf as Kili lost the ability to breath. Keth-ather ceased Kili and poured the liquid into his mouth. Then, Keth-ather bounded back up to Legolas; his golden armour flashing in the bright sun.

For the rest of the journey into Mirkwood, Kili tried to focus on not being sick and instead thought of what King Thranduil would act like.