Come to Morning Through The Shadows

Voices in the Dark

"Mist and shadow

Cloud and shade

All shall fade

All shall fade"-J.R.R. Tolkien

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the tingling in his fingers and the aching desire he felt to hold that orb again.

Kili knew it was foolish. He always knew when he was being foolish. He wasn't stupid. He could see the flaw in his actions, the sheer lack of consideration for rational thought.

But something still called to him. That orb, his curiosity, his penchant for doing reckless things...it all called to him, prodding him forward even what logic begged otherwise.

The orb ruled his thoughts.

He needed to investigate.

Just to take a look.

Just to see.

Even if Gandalf was wary of it the orb himself.

Even if he knew that Fili and his uncle would be furious.

He had to look at it again, had to understand what it was and why it had felt so warm and pleasing in his hands.

Using all the agility he could muster, the young dwarf prince slithered from his bed, careful of where he placed his feet and hesitantly maneuvered over wayward weapons and snoring persons towards Gandalf, who—by some strange twist—was asleep with his eyes open.

They'd all retreated from Isengard to Rohan and after

Kili's fingers itched as he edged closer, stretching his arms out to touch the small bundle in the white wizard's arms.

Hesitantly, he pulled the object towards him, careful to watch Gandalf's expression (which, thankfully, remained unchanged).

"Kee!"

Fili's low hiss had Kili jerking backwards awkwardly, nearly dropping the orb in surprise. He shot a glare towards his brother.

"What are you doing?!" Fili's voice pitched in surprise. "Put that back!"

"I just want one more look," Kili muttered, half listening. His eyes were fixed on the obsidian sphere as he let the cloth that covered it fall to the floor. "I just need to look at it one more time."

He placed his hands back on the smooth stone, feeling the trickle of warmth seep into his fingers. He watched the swirls of the obsidian orb change suddenly, moving like liquid, entrancing and enticing his attention.

A half smile graced his lips as his worries lessened.

This wasn't so terrifying.

He didn't know what the fuss was.

******

She'd never get used to this: the thick, warmth of blood trickling rapidly down her hand. It rolled over her fingers, smattering across her knuckles and wrist, staining the hem of her shirt.

Lyla was shaking, her knees nearly buckling as sweat prickled against her brow. The fatigue that had settled on her during her captivity in Gondor continued to grow, making her vision swim every now and then. She felt her stomach roll, the sharp lances of pain in her wrists and ankle snapping at her attention, begging to be noticed, even as the young hobbit forced herself to pit her attention on the creature that slumped, gurgling almost silently as it thrashed at the small, blonde creature who buried the jagged blade deeper into its belly.