Thorin, When We Look Upon the Halls of Our Fathers--

[youngestone]

Who: Killian and Thorir
When: July 7th
Where: The Thorsson's
What: Other than his own physical changes, Killian's had an Echo bouncing around in his head since the blackouts about being really, really sick and hiding it. He wants to ask Thorir if he knows what was up.

[Killian is finally home from Vegas. He loved the trip, minus the freaky stuff going on in the city, and he loved the time alone with Ariel, but he is so glad to be home.

Which is a weird feeling, honestly, going somewhere and then going home. Before, he was always "home". He kind of likes this feeling better.

After showering, napping, and eating, Killian feels more or less like himself--which reminds him. He has the pulse he wants to talk to Thorir about.

Tugging a bit at his sleeves (he almost wishes he were just shrinking and not getting broader, none of his clothes fit right anymore), he knocks on his uncle's office door]

Thorir?

Comments

[disdainfully]

[Thorir is currently going through some reports. He's adjusted the table that he is using, it's significantly lower now than it used to be, below and not above average people size, though he is still taller than Killian (though by a lot less than he used to).

He calls Killian in after a moment and then after yet another moment looks up and smiles at his nephew, setting aside his work to talk to him.]

It's good to see you back safe and sound.

[youngestone]

Vegas was fun, but I'm glad I'm home.

[Still tugging at his sleeves, he find a chair and flops down in it]

Can I talk to you real quick? It's, uh, it's about a pulse.

[disdainfully]

Sure.

[He gets up and heads to the small fridge in the corner, which is now technically too high up for him - he hasn't gotten around to readjusting it yet, has seen no sense in doing that while he still doesn't know how short he will get. Fil's height?]

Do you want anything to drink?

[Because if Kíli- Killian (the height has brought him even more trouble with slip-ups) seeks him out to talk about one of the pulses, it will probably be better to sit down for it in the little "talk" corner of the office, and also to quickly greet him back, hear two words about the trip before going back to work.]

[youngestone]

Soda?

[Since yeah. He glances at the fridge]

D'you want me to help you move that down to our level?

["Our level." So weird to say that to his uncle.]

[disdainfully]

[He stares grimly at the can of soda that he just fished out of the fridge - he has to reach up now, but it's still within reach.]

Once I know where that will end up to be. [There is still almost a foot between him and Fil, and who knows if Fíli was just really short for a dwarf or average...

But he grabs a second can and then closes the fridge, putting down a coke and a dr pepper on the little table between the two chairs. At least the chair that he sits himself down on seems to have gotten adjusted to his age - swapping out two chairs wasn't much of an act.] But that isn't what brought you here, is it?

[youngestone]

Not really. [He takes the Coke] Uh...d'you have any memories of Kíli being really sick?

[disdainfully]

I haven't yet pulsed back memories that would have been specifically about him at all. Nor about Fíli.

[Because he feels that those usually came in a set.]

[youngestone]

Okay, damn. Only I got one during those blackouts when I was at Ariel's and...I'm really, really sick in it. Like, it's a miracle I'm able to stand up and be coherent and do things sick but I'm hiding it from you--from Thorin--and I have no idea why. I mean, I know I got shot with a poisoned arrow or something so I'm guessing that's this but...

[He makes a noise, frustrated. Why wouldn't he tell the Company he was poisoned?]

[disdainfully]

That's irresponsible.

[He leans forward, elbows on his knees and hands hanging down, and frowns at Killian. It's thoughtful, but also rather intense - that sounds like a really bad idea, to keep an injury like that from those one is travelling with, both because they might put unnecessary strain on the person and thus make it worse and because, going by what they know of that world, it might be a danger to everyone in the group.]

[youngestone]

You're telling me! That's why I was hoping you had a memory of it--I have no idea what he was thinking. I mean, I'm guessing it was on their quest? But why risk dying on it?

[disdainfully]

Misplaced pride and the feeling that he couldn't seem weak in front of the rest of the group?

[He pauses.]

Do you remember if, and how, the others found out about it?

[youngestone]

[He shakes his head]

Fil mentioned back when I hurt my leg that he remembered nearly losing me to what I'm guessing is that poison so obviously he eventually knew. I just--okay, I know I'm one to talk about not telling people when something's up but if I'm sick I'm not going to hide it. And he was hiding it from his uncle--from you.

[And that's what's bothering him the most.]

[disdainfully]

He was with- [And then he abruptly stops, the echo hitting him with more force than he has felt them hit him with in a while. Maybe, he thinks, because it must have been about as hard for Thorin as some of the earlier memories. His mother and Frerin might have died without him being able to help, but here he had to deny someone very important to him a thing much desired, had to leave him back in a horrible condition, all for the better of his people and the person himself (and maybe other reasons, he doesn't know; but these are the ones that are clear to Thorir from the small memory that he just received).

There is a heaviness in the memory; one that he can understand, that he has felt before to a degree when unpleasant executive decisions had to be made or he had to regal one of his children in some way, but... but this is more, there are so many more layers. For a moment he simply sits there, trying to process the memory, trying to reconcile it with the picture that he has so far had of Thorin.

He doesn't even notice that he's suddenly wearing entirely different clothes.]

[youngestone]

Holy shi--Thorir, your clothes are changed.

[Killian realizes that his uncle is thinking about something very important but his clothes literally changed in front of him. Magically.]

[disdainfully]

[He looks up at Killian. What?]

[youngestone]

You look...well, like a king. Sorta.

[He gestures]

[disdainfully]

[He almost says I am a king, Kíli., reprimanding; stops himself at the last moment, horrified at himself. I'm not him.

Instead looks at his clothes, or what of them he can see without a mirror.]

I do?

[youngestone]

Yeah! Hang on, stand up and I'll get a picture so you can see better...and then I can go get you some other clothes so Mardís doesn't see you like this. She'll probably laugh at you.

[disdainfully]

You don't have to take a picture, I can use a mirror later.

[Who knows what would happen with that picture. He's less worried about Mardís - yes, she will probably laugh, but she's also bound to see them anyway and they've both laughed at each other like that before. He's more worried about running around like this in front of his employees or the other family members.]

...and are you sure? Fíli and Kíli looked like their clothes were too large for them.

[youngestone]

Well, it does look a little big but you're not done shrinking yet, are you?

[disdainfully]

[Don't remind him.]

Probably not. It's much slower than Fil's; it will be hard to tell the end of it.

[youngestone]

[Sorry?]

Anyway, it's a good look for you! But I'm guessing this came from a pulse--what about?

[disdainfully]

It did.

[For a moment, he wavers about how to go about it, but then he puts a hand on Killian's shoulder, only a moment, before dropping it again.] Get me something proper to wear, and then we will continue the conversation from before.

[Because an employee could always poke their head into the room with something urgent, and... yeah.]

[youngestone]

Be right back, then.

[He hurries up to Thorir's room, grabs a change of clothes for his uncle, and then hurries back]

I kinda like the cape, not gonna lie. Very cool.

[disdainfully]

Very warm, too. All of this is.

[He's by now gotten rid of most players, standing there only in the pants and shirt.]

They don't seem to have lived in the warmest climate.