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legolaslovely · 4 years ago

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Helios and Morpheus

A/N: Here is my part of our collaboration for the Durin’s Day Gift Exchange for @linane-art ! Thank you for brainstorming with me and being so supportive and patient. You made this even more exciting than I thought it would be, and let me tell YOU, I was thrilled about it all in the first place. I hope you enjoy it. I am so excited to share it! :)

This is somewhat loosely based on Greek Mythology, AKA it’s an Alternate Universe! Rated Gen. Get ready for some LONGING and some FLUFF.

LOOOOOKKKKKKKK AT @linane-art ‘s ARTTTT LOOOOOK AT THE PERFECT BOYSSS!!!! Thank you for giving us SUCH gorgeous works.

The link for Fili is HERE!! And Kili is HERE!! Please go give @linane-art some love!!!!!!

Helios and Morpheus

Tell us of the impossible lovers, O Muse. Those who defied Fates, Furies, and Almighty Zeus, Who found forever hidden in distance between, Paradise more perfect than Elysian serene.

Tell us of Helios, the God of Golden Sun Who rides in his chariot before night’s begun. His radiance shines as he watches and he waits For God of Dreams, Morpheus, to fly from his gates.

Perfumed with his poppies and directives to spare, Roused only by his One with the rays in his hair, Morpheus stars in dreams prophetic and divine, Telling his love in sleep, “You are mine, you’re all mine.”

One alone rules the day as sky’s singular light. Another’s domain lies in the darkness of night. As stubborn as star-crossed, fierce as Cronus, they were, Bridging the cosmos for a love that was most sure.

Book I

To those below and above, he was known as Morpheus. To those around him, however- to his parents and his brothers, the Oneiroi- he was Kíli. To himself, he was a dreamer.

One could suppose that’s how it all began.

From very early on in his eternal life, he was known around the cosmos for his talent of deceit. But the true-hearted Kíli only deluded with his physical appearance. With a bit of concentration and a blink of time, he could shift from his godlike form into any other imaginable. Those below often said that no other was more skilled than he in representing the gait, the features and the speech of men, but little did they realize, Kíli could manifest as much more. Truthfully, he just thought the world of men had very tiny imaginations, even in their dreams.

And so, his talents were put to use. Zeus commended him and dubbed him the leader of the dream makers, called the Oneiroi. He was to spend his nights flying through the world of men, delivering messages from the gods to their pupils through their dreams. Instead of using his skills for amusement, for playing pretend and hiding from his brothers, Kíli- Morpheus- would exhaust himself and his power by playing messenger boy for the King of the Gods.

Still, Kíli learned to have his fun.

You see, though Kíli was explicitly told what message to send to whom, the how was entirely up to him. He could morph into a towering cyclops and poke the belly of his recipient until he listened. He could make a pit stop in the sweetest dream of the prettiest semi-divine woman and make her fall in love with him just before night’s end. He could even visit Hades to make ghost children into brave soldiers, or Hephestus to take a lesson in sword forging. As long as he delivered his messages on time, he had the power to do whatever he wanted.

But it all ended with the rosy-fingered dawn.

Every night had its end. For others, that was a hopeful thought, even a prophetic one, but for Kíli, it just meant he’s run out of time. His freedom was stripped away by the clouds painted orange. For a long while, some thousands of years, he stomped back through his gates like a tantrum struck child, furious at his forced time-out. He’d grunt at the guards and leap over the Rivers of Forgetfulness and Oblivion, and lock himself in his cave to sleep among the poppy seeds until he received the orders for his next outing.

In the recent millennia, however, he’d been risking everything to hide behind the lock of his ivory gate and watch the black night sky lift and glow indigo, then violet. He’d wait to see the golden chariot cross the cosmos, pulling aside the curtain of night to reveal the bright blue day behind it. He’d heard the stories all his life. He knew what happened in the universe that took his time away from him and turned it into day. But he only recently saw the phenomenon for himself and since then, he never wanted to miss the show.

It wasn’t the glittering coat or glistening mane of the thundering horse that he was interested in. It was the one inside the solid gold chariot that first caught his eye. It was Helios, God of Sun, he wanted to watch because, though he was almost blinded by the sunny halo every morning, Kíli was sure Helios was smiling at him.

Book II

Helios was happy. Though others often wondered how he could be.

Those above pitied him for his status. It was unjust for the God of Sun- the deity of something as important as creation, light, and life- to be considered a minor god. He would never see the world below from the peak of Mount Olympus. He couldn’t watch the measly humans through the silver, puffy clouds. Sure, he had his own clouds to peer through way up there on his own throne, but they weren’t as pretty as the ones that surrounded Mount Olympus. Not at all. Helios only had regular clouds. What a shame.

It may have been that those below pitied him even more than the Olympians. Helios was alone. Yes, he had power, eternal youth and breathtaking beauty, but he’d never share any of it with anyone. How sad! To spend the light of day watching the world below, only to be so distant from it. Poor, lonely Helios.

Solitary and depressed, but never forgotten. For who could forget the sun?

In return for his service and out of their pity, the gods above gave him the most beautiful land to shine on and watch over. Artemis kept her trees tall and her meadows vast so long as Helios kept them green. Demeter graced the farmlands, encouraging crops to grow up to the light of his rays. Even Poseidon, grateful for the glimmer of warmth Helios left on his sea, returned the favor and controlled his waves whenever the halo of sun crossed the sky at day’s end. And sometimes, Zeus would throw some thunderbolts and give Helios a day of rest when he especially deserved it after weeks and weeks of impeccable radiation.

Helios was the only being who couldn’t understand the world’s view of him. Between those generous gifts from the higher gods and the worship and prayers from the humans below, how could Helios ever be unhappy? In his opinion, he had it made.

Because he was a minor god, he didn’t have to deal with the problems of Olympus. He was glad the fabricated kidnappings, adulterous adventures, and cannibal snacking rituals were kept way over there on that mountain and his warm, serene hours were spent way over here on his very own throne. He shined his brightest on his own.

Still, that didn’t mean he disliked watching the humans from afar. On the contrary, he adored them.

He smiled down on them as they wept in his name. He peeked through the dreary, grey clouds and gave them warmth as they built his temples stone by stone. Attentively, he watched as they danced and sang for him, begged him for his blessings and thanked him for his creation. In their words, he was gracious. He brought joy to mortals. Again, their words, not his.

He was given all this simply for being beautiful. He was pure light. He ruled the sky for thousands of years and was grateful, never wanting any change.

Then, as randomly as an autumn leaf falls to the ground, his lands brought him something new. Or rather, someone. As Helios crossed the sky and brought the dawn, he looked down on his endless estate and spotted this someone watching him. It was not a farmer, nor a thief or human forced to wake before the day.

Instead, it was clear this Dark One enjoyed the night. He stood unshrinking from the black sky and smiled at Helios, clearing any blame for his bringing the sun. This someone, this Dark One was happy to make his sacrifice to Helios- a ritual the Sun God had never enjoyed until now. Now, it was a gift.

Never in his eternal life had Helios pulled on his steed’s reins to slow the sunrise. It wouldn’t work. His chariot would plow on with its duty with time warping speed, never paying a hair’s attention to the Dark One in the shadows. There was no time. Dawn must come.

With that, Helios crossed the sky, eventually losing sight of his someone below. When he leapt from the gold to gold, from the chariot to his throne, he searched for the Dark One, but his own light stole the shadows and his someone was nowhere to be found. His passing eras slowed to hours. During the time of his reign, he watched the humans find Aphrodite, Hestia, and Hera and when the night came, he himself found his Dark One waiting for him every morning.

Book III

Morpheus had the ability to enter the dreams of any and all. He could punish the dastardly with nightmares so garish and haunting, his victims would change their ways in the morning. Or he could gift the selfless with visions of peace and profit, the lonely with companionship, or the sick with health. Over the span of his existence, he’d delivered messages and prophecies to billions- humans and gods alike.

Tartarus, he could even sneak into Zues’ dreams and feel the power of the King’s Thunder if he felt like it. But Kíli valued his immortality too much for such a thing.

Bottom line: Kíli could visit all who dreamed. Which was everyone. Or so he thought.

It was really just his luck that the one he so wanted to meet- and even eavesdrop on if Kíli was honest- was out of his reach. Contrary to popular belief, the sun never slept and neither did the god who powered it.

He didn’t understand why. What did Helios have to do during the night? Where did the Sun God even go when darkness came? Wasn’t there time for the Golden One to rest?

Kíli was determined to find out.

When darkness came on the Winter Solstice, the longest night, Kíli flew as fast as he could to the dreamers through the lower lands. He delivered a curse here, and a revelation there. Then, dressed in his best disguises, he climbed up to Mount Olympus to greet the two gods he was meant to visit. His foretellings were clear and concise. There was no time for any mix ups or confusions which, despite Kíli’s best intentions, were a common occurrence with drowsy recipients.

After all his duties were finished, he tumbled down to his gate with time to spare. There, hanging onto the delicately etched ivory pillars, he waited alone. The night hours he so treasured ticked slowly past- slower than ever before. More than once he leapt from the ground, wings waving and flapping when he was sure he saw a speck of light coming from the east. But he realized his eyes were only playing tricks on him in his anticipation, and eventual boredom.

Still, he didn’t leave his post.

The sky remained dark for so long, Kíli was sure he’d gone blind trying to make the smallest stars into the golden halo he longed to see. He wondered why nothing was happening, why the blanket above wasn’t lifting to indigo, then violet in preparation for Helios. Had something happened to the Golden One?

He panicked.

It was unbelievable.

For ages, Kíli wished for eternal night and cursed the morning Sun, and now all he wished for was the scalding rays to burn his skin. He’d welcome such a painful end if he could see the Sun God one last time.

Then, there was light.

Real light, nothing Kíli’s eyes or drowsy mind could create. This was it.

His waving wings let him hover just above the ground, his bare toes dipping into the tall grass. He had to be careful, he had to time it right if he wanted a chance to speak to Helios as he crossed the sky and brought the dawn. If his actions weren’t perfect, his flesh would sizzle and leave his bones unsheltered to melt in a matter of seconds. Helios’ light was his end. So he must stay in the shadows.

After such darkness, Kíli could only see a white blur crossing the sky, but after years and years of watching the sunrise, he knew well how Helios’ shining steed cut through the night like a rapier. He raced up to meet it, his every muscle jolting in tandem to flap his wings with enough speed and precision to shoot him to a height that took his breath from his body. There, on the level, he waited.

That was his mistake.

The chariot barreled toward him with such graceful speed, its very own wind left Kíli reeling through the air.

“What are you doing?” He heard.

He found his balance and his rhythm and darted from the heat on his back. It singed the very tip of his wing, but with the breeze of his flight, the fire and pain didn’t travel upwards. So he flew on, grabbing hold of the chariot’s edge.

“No!”

Kíli realized, but it was too late. Of course the gold of the chariot would be as blazing as an open flame. He hissed in pain, but flew on until he matched Helios in his flight.

He called the Sun God’s name, letting it grace his lips for the first time. “Helios!”

“Are you daft?” Helios cried, yanking on his reins with a force that turned his knuckles white, but the horse didn’t slow.

“I’m Morpheus!”

Helios laughed. His eyes sparkled, glittering like the brightest stars in the sky, like the loudest, most dazzling thunderbolt Zues ever threw had been captured inside the golden head of this god.

Kíli knew Helios was beautiful. He knew of the creamy skin, the aureate halo, and the smile as curved and irresistible as cumulus clouds. But he didn’t know of the blue eyes. They struck him and slowed him down.

Still, before he burned, before he circled back and raced to his gates, flying through without a look back, he heard Helios yell something to him. He saw Helios smile at him, as he’d seen every morning for hundreds of years. But this time, his Sun was close enough to touch.

Book IV

Helios’ days were all the same. It was clockwork and routine- the paths he took to and from the farthest corners of Poseidon's ocean, how long the trek took, when and where he’d begin and end. He knew what he’d see along the way. There were never any surprises because nothing was ever different.

At least that was the case until Morpheus loomed by his gate for the first time. His first appearance had been unusual and indeed gave Helios pause at first, but even that had become something expected after thousands of years of his Dark One’s presence.

Morpheus flying to his chariot before dawn, however, that was unexpected. A surprise. Even a fright to Helios that jarred him like nothing else he’d ever experienced. It left him with so many questions. Helios wasn’t used to having any such thing. He was the Sun. He had all the answers. He was the steadiest thing in the cosmos. He was arguably the most dependable god.

But now that Morpheus had flown to him, Helios was unsure. He sat in his throne and glowed dimly over the day, diverting most of his energy to all the questions now crowding his headspace.

Why, he asked.

He’d spent his eternity thus far watching all beings under his light. They were predictable. He was never surprised by their actions. And yet, Morpheus, God of Dreams, left him flabbergasted without a single answer as to why he’d risk his life to speak to a god in the opposite domain. What was the point? What did he want to say? Wasn’t he terrified?

But Helios’ most important question was: Had Morpheus heard him?

He hoped so. For when he wasn’t wondering and pondering, Helios was dreaming. Well, he guessed he was dreaming. He’d heard his humans talk about it in his temples, running to his altar after a night of his blessing their sleep and revealing himself to them in a vision. It was as if they’d truly seen the god, Helios, and had even spoken to him, though it was obvious such a thing was impossible. Helios never strayed from his post.

But he dreamed on with his eyes open and his rays shining. Just before his mind’s eyes were wings twice the size of Morpheus’ body and black as the fur of Cerberus. He even went inside his fantasy and touched the wings with his fingertips, leaving them with what he hoped was a pleasant warmth. As his dream Morpheus leaned into his touch, even closed his eyes to it, Helios’ halo shone ever brighter to the lands below.

Then, as if clouds filled the sky, more questions would clog Helios’ mind and his rays would dim as he asked himself why.

So the day went on, sunlight ebbing and flowing until his steed grew agitated. Sparkling hooves stomped into the ground, the glistening tail swished and the impatient head bobbed, strong neck arching tight in anticipation. Dusk was approaching, as was Helios’ long ride. But even after his exhausting day, he leapt into his chariot, ready to work through until dawn when he’d see his Dark One again.

“Come to me tomorrow,” he’d said.

He hoped it with every glittering speck of himself.

The reflection of his chariot shimmered in the ocean below as he passed through the sky. His steed took him past mount Olympus and over the thatched roofs of Corinth, then Larissa. He passed wide meadows and gentle creeks, waiting patiently for the chance to fly over Morpheus’ gates. Though the Dream World spanned much of the Underworld, Helios knew exactly where the horn entrance would appear at the break of dawn. He knew where Morpheus would be.

Morpheus.

It left the great Sun God trembling, for he was aware of the danger his Dark One faced. If all didn’t unfold perfectly, Morpheus would be no more. And it would be Helios’ fault. Even in all his uncertainty, he was sure of that.

Leaning over the side of his chariot, Helios kept his eyes glued to the ground. He stayed low, remained as dim and cool as he could without giving himself a mortal chill. He waited. All things familiar glowed underneath him until the horn gates of Morpheus’ Dream World glittered in his rays. But Morpheus wasn’t leaning on the post. Instead, he was already flying through the air to meet the chariot. Helios’ gut sunk. His Dark One was wasting his energy. He should have waited!

It was too late now.

As Helios’ golden horse loped on, quickly surpassing Morpheus’ own swift speed, Helios reached out with a cool hand and dragged his Dark One safely into the seat of his chariot. Then he slid to the opposite side, pulling his limbs as far from Morpheus as the chariot allowed.

The two gods stared at each other. Morpheus was squinting at him, even in Helios’ dim light.

“You told me to come back to you,” Morpheus said. “You told me to return at dawn.”

“Yes,” Helios said.

Morpheus scooted closer to him, moving his hand to the back ledge of the chariot to pull himself along. “Why-”

“Don’t!” Helios cried, dragging his Dark One’s hands into his own. “Don’t touch the chariot. It will burn you.”

Morpheus latched onto him. “But you’re not burning me. How is that?”

“It’s only dawn. My rays aren’t as powerful now.”

Morpheus was watching him through narrowed eyes, taking in his every feature as if he’d never seen another being before. Like he’d only ever dreamed them, and never actually saw or touched. It took every bit of Helios’ power not to shrink from his gaze. No one had ever looked so closely at the sun.

Morpheus reached for him and ran his icy fingers around Helios’ ear, tucking his shining hair around it. “You’re so warm.”

“Sorry.”

“No,” Morpheus was quick to say. “It’s pleasant. You feel wonderful.”

Just below them was the shore of the western ocean. Dawn would soon pass into full morning. They didn’t have much time.

“Why did you come? It was dangerous for you,” Helios said. He shifted in his seat to shelter Morpheus from the light creeping up to his back. They were close now, closer than any two opposing gods had ever been.

“I’ve spent so long in the shadows,” Morpheus said. “I wanted to feel your light.”

Helios grinned. Everyone in the cosmos wanted to feel the light of the sun. But he’d keep himself from all the world, he’d let it all freeze over if it meant he could safely shine on his Dark One for the rest of his eternity. Just for a moment, he leaned closer to imagine what it would feel like.

“I wanted to see you, but you don’t sleep!” Morpheus said, bumping the tip of his nose to Helios’ cheek. He jerked away and hissed, rubbing his sizzling face. “You heat up quick,” he laughed.

“You must leave,” Helios said with a wince. “I can’t slow the dawn.”

“I know. But here, take this.” Morpheus reached to the nape of his neck and untied the sticky stem of a single poppy from his hair. He placed it in Helios’ hand and folded his fingers around it. “Tomorrow when the moon rises, I want you to smell this. It’s one of mine. Bring it up to your nose and take a deep breath. Think of me and I will come to you in your dreams.”

“I’ve never dreamt anything before. I’ve never even slept.”

Morpheus reached for him, but stopped himself before he could touch Helios’ scalding skin. He closed his eyes to the blinding shine. “Then I’ll fly to your chariot every day at dawn.”

“No. It’s not safe for you.” The poppy was wilting in Helios’ hand without its maker. “I’ll do as you said. As long as you will come to me.”

“I swear it. There’s no place else I’d rather be.” One eye creaked open and Morpheus smiled before it clamped shut again. “You sure are bright.”

“You must go.”

His black wings rose above the chariot and opened like wide wooden doors before Morpheus blindly leapt from Helios’ side and dove to his gates. There, he disappeared before Helios’ own rays could burn his flesh.

As the Sun God was delivered to his throne, he held tight to his poppy and dreamed with his eyes open about what the night would bring.

Book V

It was rumored Morpheus’ wings had the strength of a thousand soldiers. Though the feathers were lush and silky, the arching bones crowning the tops- extensions of his own spine- were not to be trifled with. How else would he fly through the cosmos from city to city and even to Mount Olympus to deliver himself to the dreams of his recipients? The wings were so robust, so legendary, and yet his flight was as silent as an owl’s, for what good were they if they woke his dreamers?

Tonight, however, his wings were still. He had his scroll, his list of messages to deliver and beings to visit, but instead of rushing out of his gates to tend to his duties, he stood just past the lock to his Dream World. For the first time in his endless existence, he didn’t know where to go.

His most important dreamer didn’t have a regular resting place. As far as Kíli knew, Helios traveled in his chariot all through the night, distributing his light around the universe. It would be impossible to pinpoint his exact location, never mind catch up with the soaring chariot. The only thing Kíli could do was wait to be summoned.

Still, Kíli couldn’t even be sure Helios would be able to dream, or even sleep for that matter. His poppies worked wonders on ailing humans, but he’d never offered one to a god before. It was forbidden by Zues. As was his and Helios’ affair. He knew they were treading a very dangerous path.

Usually, Kíli would be terrified of Zues. He would hide in the shadows of his Dream World, only emerging from it to take orders from the King of the Gods. He’d take his notes with his head down and wings wilted, never quite looking the Maker of Thunder in the eye. Every interaction made him quiver down to his soles.

Now, however, with Helios in his sights, he wasn’t scared. It was as if he had a secret weapon that left him powerful and fearless against anyone who stood in the way of him finding his very own Sun. Nothing mattered beyond his One who glowed and lit up the sky, bringing hope to all in his domain. Kíli felt that now.

So he stood at his gates, daring Zues to threaten him or his love and hoping with every inch of himself that his poppy would work. He waited for Helios’ call.

He closed his eyes to listen.

The wind rustled in the grass and tickled his feet. A cat yowled in the dark. The warm stuffy silence of night muddled his mind.

Then all was clear. When he opened his eyes, Helios was in his arms, asleep.

His plan had worked.

As expected, the Sun God was warm. Kíli had felt this kind of residual heat before when he entered the dreams of sleeping humans who were wrapped up in too many quilts during the night. However, this kind of warmth wasn’t so oppressive. Instead, it was a balmy comfort that washed over his lap and up his arms. Kíli, the God of Dreams who only came out at night, was feeling the Sun for the first time.

Meanwhile, Helios, who never slept and never left his post, conquered his fears and did so for Kíli. He was peaceful. The poppy had worked and it had given him rest. That knowledge only added to the rush Kíli was feeling in his chest as he pulled Helios closer, protecting him, lest he regret placing his trust in his Dark One.

Though Helios was not shining, not even glowing, Kíli was still stunned by his beauty. It wasn’t dull or dimmed in the night, but magnified. This close and without his rays, Kíli could see his true beauty- the lines in his lips from his own heat and those around his eyes left by his gleaming grin. Even now, in sleep, Helios smiled and Kíli didn’t miss the dimples in his cheeks and how the left one was deep enough to cradle the tip of his forefinger.

Kíli took this chance to touch the god, not to take advantage of him, but to appreciate him while there was time to be had, while he was unwatched. He ran his fingers through the silky golden hair, down the strong neck and over the proud, smooth shoulders. It electrified him like the night air never could. Then, after what felt like hours of staring and contemplation, Kíli even dared to kiss his Sun’s head. His lips lingered over the warm skin as he held Helios tight to his chest.

With that, Helios sighed. “Where am I?” he asked, working to focus his gaze on the one above him.

“You are in the arms of Morpheus,” Kíli said, smiling down on him. “Which is to say, you are asleep.”

“Morpheus.” Helios wriggled closer, wrapping his arms around any part of Kíli he could reach. “If this is a dream, then let it never end. There’s nowhere else I wish to be.”

Kíli hummed. “You’ve come over to the dark side then, hm?”

“If that’s where you are, yes. I’ll follow you there.”

Like most things in the world of the gods, Kíli’s flowers affected all beings differently. He was happy enough that Helios had fallen asleep at all, so he couldn’t blame the virgin dreamer for his honeyed state. If Kíli was honest with himself, he didn’t at all mind his Sun’s sweet words, though he knew they were coaxed out by the power of his poppy.

Helios sighed again. “I’d follow you anywhere.”

“You’re quite the romantic in your dreams,” Kíli said.

Helios grinned. It was bright enough to make Kíli’s heart soar, but not to blind him as it had when they shared the sky.

“Have I won you over, then?” Helios asked.

“Do you think I’d risk my life just to speak with you if you hadn’t already?”

“Twice!” Helios said with a wagging finger. “You did it twice.”

“Yes, I did. And I’ll do it again every morning hence if it will allow me the privilege of holding you again.”

The Sun God let his head flop on Kíli’s arm. “Now who’s playing the romantic?”

Kíli would do anything to see those blue eyes more clearly, but as Helios talked on, his lids fluttered shut, lashes feathering against his cheeks.

“I must have- had too much of the poppy. I did as you said, but the first… it didn’t do anything. I needed to see you, so I...” He laughed. “And now I can hardly keep my eyes open.”

Kíli caressed his cheek. “It’s all right. You can relax, I’ll be here.”

Immediately, the Sun turned to sand in Kíli’s arms, burying his forehead in his Dark One’s chest. Again, Kíli felt immeasurable pride. One of the most important beings in the cosmos allowed himself to be cradled and cared for by him. It made him return to his earlier wishes of wanting the night to last forever.

“Morpheus-”

“Call me Kíli.” He smoothed the line between Helios’ brows with his thumb as he explained, “It’s the name my mother gave me. Only when Zues gave me the Oneiroi, did he give me the name Morpheus as well.”

“But that’s not who you are.”

“No.”

Helios said his name. His real name. A lazy tongue flicked its way through the consonants and soft lips curled around the sounds with a smile. Then Helios said it again. “Kíli.” He leaned into Kíli’s night-cool touch that grazed the rounds of his golden cheeks and the cliffs of his thick brow. It rumpled as he said, “I don’t remember a time when I didn’t empower the sun. I’ve always been in the sky. Alone.”

“Not anymore,” Kíli said.

Helios hummed and sighed and sank further into Kíli’s arms as if the disease of his loneliness- an ailment he never knew he had- was cured irrevocably. “Kíli. If you are Kíli, then I must be someone as well. Give me a name, Kíli.”

“Your name is perfect just the way it is.”

He opened his eyes. “But it wasn’t given to me by anyone who matters.” For the first time, Helios reached up to Kíli and stroked his cheek. The touch was long overdue, but Kíli could forgive it because of the tenderness it evoked. He leaned into it, distantly listening as Helios continued. “Call me Fíli. Similar and yet opposite, just as we ourselves are. I’ll be your Fíli.”

Kíli snorted. “I should call you ‘Silly’ instead-”

He squeezed Kíli’s arm and chuckled. “Just give me this.”

Kíli wasn’t in a state to deny him anything. He’d fallen too far too quickly for such things. So he nodded.

“Will you give me something else?”

“Anything.”

Ever so gently, Helios- Fíli- led Kíli’s lips down to his own. Kíli gave him his kiss. In one moment everything between them changed. The cosmos parted and opened the way to a new universe of their own, one in which they could live in harmony and without fear, pain, or isolation. After millenia of giving- Fíli giving life and Kíli giving fantasy- they together stole it all for themselves. They gave each other the impossible.

But Kíli felt himself begin to fade.

Fíli held onto him like a stubborn serpent.

“Don’t leave me,” Fíli said against his lips.

“I won’t. It’s you who are leaving me.”

“No.”

Kíli chuckled and his cool air blew over Fíli’s face, making him shiver. “It’s not your fault. You’re waking up.”

“Stop me.”

“I can’t. Not even you can slow the dawn. But we have forever now, Fíli.”

Fíli kissed him again. Even on the edge of his dream, the sun inside him was rising, leaving his flesh hot in Kíli’s arms. He would be untouchable in a matter of minutes.

“Will you come to me again?”

“Every night,” Kíli assured, risking his fingers to feel Fíli’s smoldering cheek once more. “And I will wait at my gates for you every morning.”

“Not for too long, Kíli. I won’t have you scorching your wings again.”

“You’re starting to sound more like yourself,” Kíli said with a scoff.

Fíli smiled. “I’m still your Fíli. And there’s still nowhere else I’d rather be than here in your arms. But you’re right, we both must go.”

Yet Fíli’s only movement was to kiss his Dark One again. Then he watched until Kíli was a blur in the darkness.

Book VI

When Fíli opened his eyes, he was in his chariot. From the look of the waving blue mountains ahead, he could tell his nightly quest was about halfway through, meaning his trusted steed hadn’t even noticed his mind’s absence. After all, the horse knew the route as well as he did. It was an encouraging display that simultaneously left him bitter with disappointment. While it was made clear he’d be able to remain in Kíli’s Dream World for longer nights in the future, it only reminded him how short tonight’s visit had been.

He didn’t want to wait- not for the day to pass or even the night hours to fade before he could see his Dark One again from high above. But alas, even Zues himself suffered from such impatience for not even the King of the Gods could accelerate time.

What did comfort Fíli, however, was Kíli’s love of the night. Though Fíli was bored by its boring darkness, his love- yes, his love- relished his freedom under the starry sky. It was his time to thrive. Fíli could imagine him, dream of him flying through the cosmos as he leaned back in the seat of his chariot. Maybe one night, the two would cross paths, he thought.

But when he wriggled down into his seat, something crunched. It set off a familiar smell. He reached up, startled to feel something in his own hair, and gently pulled at not one, but three poppies that were neatly tied and tangled together. Kíli must have left them in his golden waves just before he faded away from the dream. Rolling the stems in his fingers, Fíli smiled, bringing too high a dawn for the middle of the night. But he couldn’t help it. These were a promise from Kíli for more nights like this one in a universe of their own.

They’d make a life for themselves in the short hours before dawn. Helios and Morpheus, known to only themselves as Fíli and Kíli, would love for eternity.

#fiki #Durin's Day Gift Exchange #durin's day 2020 #DDGE 2020 #greek mythology

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xxbyimm · 5 years ago

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The beauty and the beast Part II - Kíli x reader

Here’s part II to this story! If you missed the first part, click here. Hope you enjoy the next piece of your request, @soradragon !

xoxo

Summary: The reader is a skilled fighter, using dual swords. She carries a small lizard with her, called Hedera. When she joins the company, Kíli immediately takes a liking to her.

Tags: @theincaprincess @fizzyxcustard, @deepestfirefun, @legolaslovely, @yes-captainstark, @burningcoffeetimetravel, @peneigh-dzredfohl @soradragon Let me know if you want to be added to or removed from my taglist!

Warnings: Ehhh. Overall feels. Embarrassment. Appreciation of Kíli’s fine features, but nothing too explicit! ;D

♦♦♦♦♦

Although Thorin had been reluctant to take you in (‘Whose idea was this? Kíli’s?’), he had agreed fairly quickly. For someone who hadn’t been properly trained, your fighting skills were legendary. Furthermore, the knowledge you had gathered during your travels were an huge advantage to the company. You were a kind, compassionate person with this hidden mischievous side. You loved playing pranks on everyone and at night at the campfire you always had a few jokes to share. With Fíli, Kíli and you being as thick as thieves, Thorin often felt like the moment he had allowed you on the journey, he had adopted a niece.

You were having the time of your life. After losing your family so long ago, you finally had found a group of people who you genuinely liked and more importantly: who made you feel safe. You were one of them and they accepted for who you were. If it was up to you, you hoped the journey would never end.

There was two slight problems, though. Firstly, both Balin and Bofur couldn’t stop making these weird comments about you braiding your hair all wrong. You’ve never had cared much for your own hair and usually kept your wild, long locks in a loose braid, but the continuous remarks made you feel self-conscious. From what you had observed (and by all means, you were no expert), caring for your hair in almost an meticulous manner was a dwarf thing. Since you were anything but a dwarrowdam, you had difficulty understanding the fuss about it, but still it made you insecure. You were too shy to ask what you were doing wrong in their eyes, but yet you vouched to take better care of your unkempt bush anyway.

Secondly, there was Hedera. You loved him to bits, but lately he had made it his personal goal to ensure you had as much embarrassing encounters with Kíli as possible. So far, you had literally bumped into the dwarf several times, successfully tripped over a tree root in his presence, spilled your bowl of food on your lap when the prince had sought out your company during dinner and one time you even walked in on him while he was bathing in the river (Thanks Hedera, for ‘ensuring’ the coast was clear!). The mere thought that Kíli would find you clumsy or stupid already was enough to make you squirm in embarrassment, and Hedera didn’t do anything to make it better.

Normally you didn’t care what people thought of you, but Kíli was different. In fact, you hadn’t experienced something like this before, but whenever the youngest prince of Durin was around your body suddenly started to act all giddy. Your heart would pound in your chest, your legs would tremble uncontrollably. There would be this unstoppable desire to giggle about everything he said, which was not only annoying but also embarrassing. You seemed like a whole other person with him and you were not sure if you liked the change, but you couldn’t help yourself anyway.

When the prince wasn’t around, you would think of him. You often wondered how it would feel to kiss him, to touch his strong jaw, to wander your hands over his strong arms… Even in your dreams you weren’t safe, for he even visited you there, causing you to wake up with a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest and a slight tingle in places you’ve never experienced anything this way before.

But right now, life had finally granted you a night of dreamless sleep and you woke up well rested. You heaved a sigh and stretched your legs. The sun shone on your face and birds were already chirping excitedly in the trees around the camp. You opened an eye. As expected, the whole company was still vast asleep. After all, you were very much a morning person, often waking before everybody else. You rose from your bedroll and shed your coat. As Hedera was still asleep in your hoodie, you carefully dropped your coat on the bedroll and then wandered off towards the river. You longed for a bath.

♦♦♦♦♦

You were sitting on one of the larger boulders that rose from the water, when you spotted a certain prince nearing the river. He didn’t seem to notice you, as he was stripping his tunic and carelessly dropped it on the rocks near the shore. Your heart skipped a beat. In panic you looked around in an attempt to escape before he would see you, but diving into the water just after you had dried up from your previous swim wasn’t that appealing. You grabbed the hem of your own tunic to cover yourself just a bit more, but it scarcely made it over the top of your thighs. You heaved a sigh. This would have to do. If you didn’t move, he wouldn’t be able to see a thing.

Speaking about that… by now Kíli had discovered you and now was waving at you while sending you his usual bright smile. ‘Good morning, Y/N!’ he greeted you cheerfully as he pulled his shoes from his feet. ‘How’s the water?’ ‘It’s nice.’ You replied, hoping he wouldn’t see the current red state of your face from over there. ‘Stay there! I’m coming over!’ The prince hummed as he paced your way. His hands fiddled with the laces of his tunic.

Oh my lord. He was going for it and you had nowhere to go.

‘Kíli!!’ you exclaimed while turning around as fast as you could. ‘Could you just-, god, I thought-’ ‘That you could enjoy a whole river like this just all by yourself?’ the prince said cheekily, his voice closer now. Your cheeks were burning and you lowered your gaze. The thought of the naked dwarf prince behind you was enough to cause a fluttering sensation in your lower abdomen. ‘You must blame Hedera for this.’ Kíli went on, apparently oblivious to what he was doing to you. ‘He said that I smell like… well… I’m not going to repeat what he said. So I followed up his advice and came here.’

Oh? Real smooth move. Thanks again, Hedera.

‘But if you think I’m that hideous, just stay put until I’m in.’ A grand splash told you that he followed through. You teeth caught your bottom lip. Oh god, how could he ever think you’d find him ugly when he was the most perfect being you had ever seen?

‘Kíli? No, it’s not that, I’m sorry.’ You squirmed, your eyes still glued to the shore on the other side. ‘It’s just that I’m not used to human interactions. I… I’m a bit…’ ‘Oh really?’ Kíli said. ‘Because neither am I.’ ‘What?’ you turned to look him straight in the eye. He was standing in the river, the water reaching his hips. His muscular abdomen and the strong arms of an excellent archer were a feast to look at.

Perfection in its’ finest form.

‘Hey, Y/N.’ he grinned. ‘My eyes are up here.’ ‘What?!’ you murmured. ‘I said…’ he went on with a smirk. ‘That I’m not accustomed to human interactions as well.’ ‘Oh, Kíli!’ you squealed as your cheeks burned in a bright red color. ‘You know what I mean!’ ‘I know.’ He smiled. ‘It’s okay. I know you’re shy.’ ‘I’m not shy.’ You hissed. ‘Really?’ the prince said. ‘Your best friend is a lizard, Y/N.’ ‘So?!’ ‘You prefer the company of animals over species with more err- intelligence I’d say.’ ‘What?’ you snorted. ‘People like you?’ His eyes were sparkling with mischief. ‘Aye.’ ‘And do enlighten me what you have to offer what HederAA-’

Your lizards’ name was cut off in a violent shriek as Kíli jumped from the water and pulled you from the rock, dragging you down the water with him. ‘OH! I HATE YOU!’ You screamed as soon as you reached the surface again. ‘Look what you’ve done! Now I’m all wet again, and I-’

The kiss took you off guard. It was so soft, tentative even, that for a moment you doubted your own senses. Had it even taken place? But the way Kíli was looking at you with these gorgeous dark eyes of his, his arms winded around your waist and his lips brushing over yours… ‘I’m sorry Y/N.’ Kíli murmured against your mouth. ‘This was absolutely necessary.’ You couldn’t speak. Your whole body was trembling and your heart was hammering so loudly in your chest, you were sure the whole world could hear it.

‘GOOOOOOODMORNING LOVEBIRDS!’

Both of you jumped up and moved a few feet away in the water, pretending there was nothing special going on. ‘Y/N!’ Bofur greet you while lazily walking towards the shore. ‘And the youngest prince of Durin… You two are up early, eh?’ ‘Just wanted to enjoy the scenery without one of your ugly ass faces.’ Kíli smirked and Bofur broke into laughter. ‘Aye.’ He mused. ‘You’d better hurry though, because the whole lot is waking up already.’ He bent down and splashed some water in his face. Before he walked back towards the camp, the turned and smiled at you.

‘Do tell me, Y/N… Is he braiding your hair already or what?!’

You inhaled sharply and suddenly tears were burning behind your eyes. Enough was enough. First the prince confused the hell out of you by kissing you, and now they were making a fool out of you again? It wasn’t like your hair situation was that desperate, and you were going to tell them that.

‘I don’t know why everyone is so focused on my hair.’ You argued, watching Bofur disappear behind the trees. ‘I didn’t think I was doing such a bad job myself.’ ‘You’re fine.’ Kíli said with a smug smile. ‘Are you all in on something I don’t?’ you inquired sharply. ‘I have this feeling I’m not aware of something.’ Again that knowing smile. What was going on? Which vital piece of the puzzle did you miss? ‘Of course not, love.’ He hushed. ‘But please allow me to untangle that mess for you. I can’t stand it.’ ‘What? So you can do something awful to it and make a fool of me?!’ you huffed while swimming away. ‘Over my dead body!’ ‘I would never!’ ‘Yeah, I bet you do. I’ve seen you tricking others a bit far too much to believe in anything you say you have to offer.’ ‘Y/N.’ he laughed, but his eyes remained serious. ‘I’m my own woman.’ You told him. ‘I can look after myself. And I’m sick of hearing all of you comment on it.’ ‘Hair is special to us dwarves.’ Kíli tried. ‘Yeah, I noticed.’ You snarled. ‘But as I’m not one of you, I don’t care. I just want to be left alone.’ ‘But if you let me explain-’ He began. ‘No. Stop making a fool out of me!’ you cut him off. ‘Like I said, I don’t care what kind of ritualistic meaning it has, it’s weird and I don’t want any part of it.’

And with that, you swam as far away from the prince as you could, staying in the water until he had left you alone.

After that morning, Kíli became distant. He wasn’t seeking out your company anymore and he barely spoke to you unless it was absolutely vital. Although unwritten social norms weren’t your forte, you understood you had been unforgivably rude. You had come to the conclusion that there was a hidden meaning behind braiding hair, but because you didn’t dare to ask anyone what it did actually all mean, you still weren’t one step closer in making it up with the prince. In hindsight, you wished you could turn back the clock and relive the moment all over again.

#kíli #kili #son of durin's folk #kili x reader #kili x you #the hobbit #the company of thorin oakenshield

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