Chapter Text
In Exchange
Summer – June
“I’m sorry if I’ve made things difficult for you,” Ori said one slow evening, his head bowed as he stood behind Kíli at the bar, having nothing to do in the kitchens as yet.
Kíli stirred a drink quietly. It had been some time since he and his uncle had spoken properly. Twice more he’d been caught coming home in the pre-dawn hours, and arguments had ensued with Thorin threatening to lock him out of the flat if he came home late one more time.
He made good on the threat the following night when Kíli stayed back to once more cover for Ori, sliding the dead-bolt into place so Kíli could not open the front door even with his key. Kíli had then shouted and threatened to scale the walls (where he could walk along the narrow ledge that ringed each floor of the block) and creep in through his bedroom window.
Thorin only opened the door then because he knew Kíli was fool-headed enough to actually try it.
“It’s no trouble at all,” he replied as he placed the finished drink on a tray holding others and the customer returned to claim them. “I’m glad to help.”
“Don’t lie to me,” Ori said. “I live – on and off – with a liar and I can see it in people’s faces when they lie to me. I can see it in your face that you’re lying, and that it does cause you a lot of trouble.”
Kíli sighed and tried to change the topic. “No more trouble than your brother causes you. Why don’t you leave him in that cell to rot?”
“Because if I don’t look out for him, who will?” Ori shifted on his feet. “If I don’t bail him out, he’ll call someone else. He’ll owe that someone else a debt, and I don’t want to think of what they might make him do to pay that debt back.”
“Has he paid your debt back?”
The younger lad shook his head slowly. “It doesn’t matter to me. I’m just glad to have him alive. He and Dori… they’re all the family I have left. I don’t want to lose anymore.”
Kíli forced a smile. “There, see? That’s why I don’t mind helping you.”
Ori smiled back. “I’m trying to talk to Nori, to make him stop so that I won’t have to keep asking you to cover for me.”
“It’s alright, Ori.” Kíli’s gaze wandered over to where Legolas was standing, between the bar and the DJ, chatting with a couple of patrons. “I don’t mind it so much, and it doesn’t really take that long.”
Ori followed Kíli’s gaze and hid a smirk that Kíli didn’t see.
They stood in companionable silence for a while, listening to the music that was playing, Kíli trying to stop himself from staring too hard at the blond, dressed today in a powder blue shirt that brought out his eyes, and soft dove-grey pants. He almost startled when another customer approached the bar with orders for several drinks and some snacks, and quickly got to work mixing, while Ori disappeared back to the kitchen to serve up the food.
When he looked back up to place the last drink on the tray, Legolas was standing to his left, head tilted and smiling that little smile that made Kíli’s throat tighten slightly every time it was directed at him. Thankfully, before Kíli had to force himself to talk, Ori came back out with the food order and the customer moved away. Legolas’ gaze shifted to the younger of the two.
“Ori, could you please make Bofur his sandwiches for the night,” he asked. Ori nodded and returned to the kitchen. “Kíli, he requested a lime and cola to drink. Could I trouble you to bring them to him? I’ve got some guests to entertain in the VIP lounge.”
“Of course.” Kíli’s forced his face to remain a mask. Legolas was the manager. It was his job to mingle with guests and keep them entertained so they would bring their business back to the club.
“Thank you both.” With a glint of blond hair, he was back amongst the patrons, making his way to the far end of the club.
Mentally scolding himself for reading into things that weren’t there, Kíli mixed the requested drink and poured it out as Ori emerged a few moments later with neatly made chicken-mayo sandwiches on a little plate, covered with a damp cloth. He glanced in the direction Legolas had gone.
“You shouldn’t worry about him.”
Kíli blinked, then snatched up the plate and glass. “I’m not worried.” He stepped from behind the counter. “Help me watch the bar, I won’t be long.” And if his path happened to let him glimpse into the VIP lounge, well… there was nothing in the rules that forbade a passing glance.
=====
The DJ’s console was on a slightly elevated platform situated across from the bar and separated by the dancefloor which, even on a slow night, was still packed with people. It was the shortest way from the bar to the console since going around meant either weaving in between the seating areas on the left or intruding on the cordoned off VIP area on the right.
Kíli attempted to navigate this crush of writhing bodies without dropping the food or spilling the drink while trying not to stare through the thin chiffon curtain that offered some privacy to the higher-paying guests, hoping to catch a quick glimpse of the floor manager. He thought he saw the glint of blond hair mingling with dark brown like his own, but dismissed it as a trick of the light and focused instead on reaching his destination.
He tried to be annoyed at Legolas, whose job it usually was to look after their resident DJ. Kíli had never met the man till now, but his music was popular with the patrons who kept the dance-floor packed, even on slow days, and thus ensured business at the bar since dancing was, well, thirsty work. Even so, he cursed as he was jostled before finally managing to reach the other side.
“Thank ye kindly, lad,” the DJ – Bofur, if Kíli had heard the name right – reached down to take the plate and glass from him. “I’m much obliged and sorry for the trouble. I know Legolas usually does this, but seems he’s a little busy tonight.”
Kíli wondered how he managed to keep the funny hat balanced on his head as he moved to set the items down on a small table beside him. “You’re welcome. It's nice to finally meet you.” He glanced towards the curtain. “Who are they?”
“Just the daughter of Hidden Valley Medical Center’s founder, and her brothers. Old friends of his, and quite generous with their spending.”
“Oh.” Kíli wasn’t sure how to respond to that and shifted uneasily on his feet.
Bofur studied the slight slump of his shoulders and the way the younger man looked away as if resigned to some particular fate. “Your name’s Kíli, isn’t it? Legolas mentioned you a fair bit.”
The dark head came up. “Has he?” Kíli raised his eyebrows.
Bofur nodded, partly to himself, and partly to Kíli’s question. “Oh aye.” He took a sip of the drink and bite of a sandwich. “Seems ye’re good for business and have a talent with the drinks. The last guy wasn’t nearly as good-lookin’, and was far less a gentleman.” He turned away to change the music. “I think ye’ll bring a good energy to this place.”
“I thank you for your faith in me.” Kíli’s expression was unreadable as he spun on his heel. “I should be getting back to the bar.”
The DJ tilted his head at Kíli’s reaction, but let him go. “Of course. Don’t mean to keep ya from your job.”
The trip back to the bar was easier now that he had his hands free, though his head was filled with muddled thoughts about the blond and where exactly he stood with him. Were they friends? Just working colleagues? Was there something else? Kíli sometimes thought he felt something resonate from Legolas, but dismissed it as reading too much into it, though he couldn’t be sure if it wasn’t him resonating something towards the older man instead…. And then there was Bofur’s information…
“Please let me go.”
Kíli’s head snapped up from his musings as he reached the other end of the dance-floor closer to the bar and saw Ori staring up at the much larger man who loomed over the bar counter and him. As he drew closer he saw the man’s hand closed around Ori’s thin wrist, and the younger boy looked noticeably uncomfortable.
“What’s this?” he asked.
Ori shot him a distressed glance. “He asked for a glass of water. I’m sorry, I know it’s not my job to handle the drinks, but it was just water so I thought…” Sure enough, there was a glass of water on the counter near them.
“It’s alright, Ori, you did nothing wrong.” Kíli turned to face the man. “Let him go.”
The man leered at him as he got a good look at Kíli. “Well aren’t you a pretty thing.”
The breath that reached his nostrils reeked of too much cheap alcohol and almost made him gag. Kíli glowered. “I said, let him go.”
“Or you’ll do what?” The man gave a guttural laugh. “Pretty thing like you is probably only good for one thing.” The leer widened, exposing badly kept teeth, even as his grip tightened around the smaller wrist and Ori gave a squeak of pain.
Kíli reacted, throwing himself at the man to push him off. Startled by his sudden movement, the man released Ori and stumbled back a step before grabbing Kíli’s upper arm with a large bony hand. Kíli struggled and the grip tightened enough to bruise.
“Ori, go back inside the kitchen,” he ordered.
“But…” Ori made to argue.
“Kitchen. Now.” Kíli glanced around as Ori fled, but the strobe lights and the music made it hard to get anyone’s attention for help. He glared back at his captor.
The man smirked. “You’re prettier than him anyway. You’ll do.” He started to drag the brunet to a darker area of the club, closer to the back doors.
Kíli dug his heels in, putting up as much resistance as he could against the bigger man. “I don’t think so.”
“Oh, I don’t think you have a choice, boy. I’m a paying customer; I can take whatever I want, especially a pretty young thing like you.” He took hold of Kíli’s other arm in much the same manner and hauled him to the doors.
Kíli wondered if a kick to the crotch would earn him a broken arm, and decided he would prefer that over what would possibly happen if the man got him outside the club.
“Is this man bothering you, young one?” a light voice asked, and Kíli looked up past the man’s shoulder to see the familiar red hair of the tall female bouncer. “Tauriel, at your service.”
The man turned his head and frowned at her. “Leave us, woman. This is not your concern. We were just stepping out to have some fun, weren’t we, pretty one?”
Kíli didn’t answer and Tauriel shook her head. “I won’t ask twice.” She glanced down at Kíli’s leg and gave a slight nod. Kíli got the hint.
He missed the crotch, but still managed to get in a decent kick to the man’s thigh that startled him enough into letting go. As soon as Kíli was free, Tauriel grabbed the man’s arms and wrenched them up behind his back, her own grip like iron and belying her lithe, slender frame.
“Now come quietly or I will break both your arms.” The ice in her voice promised she would make this happen if he did not comply.
“I am a guest here!” the man shouted. No one else in the club gave any indication they had heard him over the music.
Save one. “Fortunately, you are one guest we would rather not have return.” Legolas approached them, eyes cold as he looked the man over. “Tauriel, please remove him from the premises.”
“Gladly.” She hauled him to the same doors he had been trying to drag Kíli to, proceeding to throw him out and ensure he did not come back in.
Kíli made his way back to the bar where Ori had come out again. Legolas joined them a moment later and studied them both, eyes searching for any signs of injury.
“Are either of you hurt? Did he do anything uncivil?” he asked.
“My wrist is a tad sore, but I’ll be fine,” Ori said, then smiled at the brunet. “Kíli showed up just in time. Thank you, my friend.”
Kíli gave him a hint of a smile. “It was nothing.”
Legolas’ glance lingered on the bartender, noting the mostly expressionless face, but seeing the dark eyes slowly ease their blaze. “Take the rest of the night off, Ori,” he said. “Both of you. Go home and take some time to recover. I’ll finish here and close the club for tomorrow.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” The words were out of Kíli’s mouth before he could stop them. Both Ori and Legolas looked at him. “There’s no need to close, and I’ll finish tonight.” He glanced at Ori. “But he’s right; you should go home, Ori. You’ve had a bad scare.”
“I’ll ask Tauriel to escort you home,” Legolas said as the red-head approached and smiled at the youngest. “If you wouldn’t mind, Tauriel?”
“Not at all,” she replied and held out her arm to Ori who blushed scarlet and took it. “Come, Master Ori. Let’s get you back safely.”
Once they were gone, Kíli filled a glass with water and drained it swiftly before turning back around to attend to a customer who approached hesitantly and placed her order. The brunet offered as assuring a smile as he could and quickly made her drink, nodding thanks when she dropped a tip in the jar and left. Legolas watched him closely through all this.
“Kíli…”
“I’m fine.”
“Kíli, stop.”
The brunet turned to glare at him. “There’s no harm done. Please leave it.”
“I saw him grab you.”
Kíli only shrugged.
“And I heard what he said to you.”
“And you think this hasn’t happened before?! You think I haven’t heard all of it before?! Men trying to be funny because I look the way I do? That was high school. I’ve learned to cope. I’m not going to crumble to pieces because of one drunk and dirty old man.” Kíli frowned.
Legolas blinked looking horrified, and Kíli couldn’t help but wonder why. “You’re just 19.”
“Don’t pity me.”
“You shouldn’t be…”
“I can do my job.” His features hardened to shield the sadness in his eyes. “And you don’t have to pretend to be friends with me so that I’ll stay on. I know me being… pretty… helps the business here at the bar, and I’m okay with that. That’s probably why I was hired anyway.”
The blond’s eyes widened incredulously. “Who…”
“Legolas?”
Kíli looked up and tried not to stare at the beautiful dark-haired woman across the counter from him.
“Lady Arwen,” Legolas replied. “How may I help?”
She gave Kíli a small smile before looking at the blond. “I was hoping I could get that bottle of champagne you mentioned? My brothers are insisting we try it.”
“Of course.” Legolas stepped around Kíli to retrieve the bottle from the cooler while the younger man readied four tall glasses on a tray, leaving room for the bottle that Legolas set down on it.
The woman – Arwen – smiled and picked up the tray before Legolas could. “I can manage.” She walked back to the concealed area with a grace Kíli could only dream of having.
Legolas glanced down. “Kíli…”
“You should entertain your clients.”
He sighed and moved to follow Arwen, but Kíli caught the whispered “I wasn’t pretending,” as he left.
=====
Later, once the club had closed, Legolas watched from the back doors as Kíli changed from his shirt to his jacket for the ride home. The streetlight showed bruises in the shape of fingers already forming on the brunet’s upper arms that made Legolas’ stomach twist uncomfortably.
Kíli had refused to speak about the matter anymore; the only words they exchanged being work formalities. It saddened Legolas, who wanted nothing more than to hug this poor lad and keep him safe from the ugliness of the world.
Don’t pity me
The words echoed in his head and made him cringe as he realized that was exactly what he had been doing. He watched as Kíli rode off, then glanced back as Tauriel joined him at the doors, back from safely delivering Ori home.
“Someone who spends his days trying to be strong will never appreciate anyone trying to make him appear weak.”
Legolas glanced at her. “And you know this because?”
“I’m a woman with a pretty face. People look at me and they only want one thing. Kíli may not be a woman, but he’s no different.” She looked at him. “The world outside Greenwood is not a very nice place. You and your father are different because you both have a sense of honor, but out there… what do you think that man would have done to Kíli had he made it out the door?”
Legolas frowned. “I’m not naïve, Tauriel.”
She looked down the now-empty street. “No, but it doesn’t change the fact that there were probably others like him in Kíli’s life. Even if they were not out to rob his innocence, his face would have probably gotten him lots of offers – model, salesman, escort.” She sighed when Legolas stiffened. “You cannot wrap him in cotton, nor should you try to, if you want him to keep working here.”
“I’d never use him like that. He’s not here because he has a nice face!”
“Then why is he here?”
“He intrigued my father.” The blond groaned. “Alright so I can see how Kíli would think that.”
She nodded. “Are you truly his friend, Legolas?”
“I would like to be.”
“And why is that? Because he has a pretty face?”
“Because he deserves a friend.”
“Then be a friend, not his knight in armour. He does not need a saviour, nor does he need your charity. He needs someone who can look past that and just let him be who he is.”
“Don’t you think I’m trying to do that?”
“Perhaps not hard enough.” Tauriel smirked. “You should learn from the kitchen lad.”
=====
Summer – July
“Excuse me, Kíli, I’m sorry to interrupt…”
Kíli gave a small smile and looked up from where he’d been laying out glasses for the night’s shift that would start in a couple of hours. “Yes Ori?”
“That is… I wanted to say… regarding what you did for me last month…” The younger lad shifted on his feet before placing a small package on the counter. “Here.”
Kíli looked down at the brown paper package tied together with simple white string and tilted his head, looking back to Ori in some confusion.
“Just something to say thanks you,” Ori said quickly. “You can open it.”
Curiosity getting the better of him, Kíli undid the string and carefully unwrapped the brown paper to reveal a pair of soft, sturdy black woolen gloves that he picked up and examined. Then he looked at Ori again.
“You shouldn’t have, they must have been expensive.”
Ori looked sheepish and stared at the ground, pink coloring his cheeks. “Actually they didn’t cost a thing.”
Kíli’s eyes widened. “Did you knit these?!” A nod. “That’s incredible!” He tried them on and found them to be as comfortable as he’d imagined them to be.
“I know you ride a bike; I know you have a helmet and jacket, but I’ve never seen you wear gloves. I thought these might help protect your hands. They’re not leather ones, but they’ll keep out the cold a little bit.”
The next moment, Ori found himself wrapped up in a warm hug that he returned happily.
“Thank you,” Kíli murmured, before letting go and stepping back. “It was very thoughtful of you.” He tucked the new gloves away under the counter so as not to spill anything on them.
“Well, you helped me with that awful man. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
The brunet thought back to the dark bruises that had marred his arms for about a week. How his uncle had come into his room every night to apply a soothing balm to the marks when he thought Kíli had been asleep, and how at last Kíli revealed one night that he was awake. They had talked till the sun rose before Kíli finally fell asleep again.
“It was nothing that could not be mended,” he replied truthfully.
“That’s good.” Ori smiled and then added. “I’m sorry for the trouble though.”
Kíli smiled back. “Oh hush. You didn’t ask to be harassed. Don’t blame yourself.” He studied the younger lad. “Though… if you’re going to help me at the bar next time, you ought to know how to make a few of the simpler drinks.”
Ori’s eyes widened and he squeaked. “Me?! But that’s your job. I wouldn’t know… I don’t think I’d even be allowed to touch the alcohol!”
“Why not? You’re legal enough, and you’ve proved to be a decent cook. Besides, what if I’m taken ill and can’t come in to work. They need to have some sort of backup, why not you?”
The lad’s voice softened. “No one’s given me a chance before.”
Kíli’s voice softened, too. “I’m giving you a chance now. C’mon.” He grabbed some sheets of paper and a pen and passed them to Ori. “Take notes, these are simple, basic cocktail recipes even a child could make.”
Blinking hard in bewilderment, Ori took the writing materials and started jotting down notes and little tips that Kíli shared with him, watching closely as Kíli made a small glass of something non-alcoholic (seeing as how they couldn’t really drink on the job) and passed it to him to try.
“Won’t you get in trouble for this?” Ori asked.
Kíli shrugged. “They have too much of it, and if I don’t use it, they’ll just throw it out anyway. Don’t worry.”
“Well, it’s very good.” Ori set the glass down. “Did you have to learn to become a bartender?”
The brunet paused as he rinsed out the shaker at the small bar sink. “No. I’m just out of high school. My uncle… he… he keeps a small bar at home. Sometimes he’d ask me to make him a drink, so I’d experiment. Other times I’d just watch what he did. I guess I taught myself.”
Ori picked up on Kíli’s slight discomfort and let the subject of his family drop. “You’re very good at it.”
Kíli glanced over and smiled a little bit at him. “I’m glad you think so.”
=====
Legolas pretended he couldn’t hear the conversation going on behind the bar as he pretended to be reading some of the log books and making notes regarding stock updates and other little things in the club that needed seeing to.
Kíli barely spoke to him since that night. Nothing outside of work-related issues like needing supplies of ice when he was running low, or letting him know when certain mixers were reaching their Best Before dates so they could run a promotion and clear as much of the stock as possible. It was all very Manager-Employee and Legolas hated it.
He hated the formality of it; the coldness. He hated that he couldn’t talk to Kíli like he used to, and shameful as it was, he hated that Nori hadn’t gotten himself caught again so he could attempt to actually talk to the younger man while they worked overtime. Most of all he hated agreeing to this stupid plan of his father’s in the first place, because now he genuinely wanted to be friends with Kíli… if nothing more.
“Kills ye, doesn’t it?”
Legolas looked up as Bofur took a seat across from him. “What does?”
“The fact that it’s Ori who can make him smile an’ not ye.”
The blond frowned. “He’s allowed to have friends.”
“And yet he doesn’t consider you one. Must hurt.”
Legolas closed a book a little harder than he should have. “Did you just come here to gloat?”
Bofur held up his hands. “Relax, lad. I know it’s tough. It’s easier for him with Ori ‘cause they’re co-workers. You’re technically still his boss and that’s still playin’ on his mind.”
“It doesn’t seem to bother you.”
“Well I’ve known ye longer.”
“And what would your advice be, since people are so keen to give me theirs?”
The DJ grinned. “For starters, don’t be so uptight. Ye make him nervous. Let him know he can relax around ye. Second, you’re his friend, not his mother. Y’don’t have to be there to help him cross the road or clean his nose.”
“You spend too much time with Tauriel.”
“She’s a nice lady.” Bofur chuckled. “Finally, if ye got the balls for it, just buy him a drink and ask him t’dance. Gotta be hard for him, cooped up behind that li’l counter all night long.”
Legolas wondered if their resident DJ had truly gone insane.
=====
“Did you two have a fight?”
The club was open and in full swing and Kíli looked over as Ori brought in a batch of newly washed glasses and helped Kíli stack them. “What?”
“You and Legolas. I didn’t want to say anything earlier, but… I noticed you haven’t really been talking.”
“We’re fine.” Kíli blinked. “We talk.”
“Work stuff, sure. I’ve heard that. But you don’t talk like you used to. You barely smile at each other… ever since that night.”
Kíli sighed. “It’s nothing.”
Ori’s shoulders slumped a bit. “I like working here ‘cause everyone is friendly, and kind to each other. It’s not like that at home y’know. Usually it’s just me and Dori and we don’t really see each other because our schedules are different. But then Nori comes home sometimes and it turns into this whole Cold War scenario where they just exchange small talk even though there are so many issues they need to talk about. And it hurts because I love them both and yet they can’t stand each other.”
The boy’s hands curled into fists on the counter. “Please don’t do that here.”
“I’m sorry, Ori.” Kíli placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t know it upset you that much.”
“Why would you not talk? Weren’t you friends?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘friends’, no. He’s still my boss.”
“He’s everyone’s boss, but not by choice. And it must get lonely, knowing everyone only talks to you or listens to you because you’re in a superior position to them and not because you’re friends.”
Kíli looked at where Legolas was standing some ways off, leaning against a pillar and watching the dancefloor, but not really seeing anything. He wondered what the blond was thinking of.
“He seemed to have a lot of friends visiting.”
Ori actually scoffed. “You’re not as smart as I thought you were if you think he considers them his friends. He’s nice to them because they help business, but you already knew that.”
“I think I liked it better when you were still shy to talk to me,” Kíli quipped, earning himself a smack on the arm.
“You were nice to me. It’s easy to be friends with someone who’s nice to you.”
Kíli sighed. “I just don’t like being fussed over or made to feel helpless.”
“I’m sure that’s not what he intends to do, but you know he IS responsible for us and what happens to us. It’s his job to take care of us while we work, and if anything happens, he has to shoulder the blame.”
The brunet mulled this over. “Never thought of it like that…. Thank you, Ori.”
“So you’ll talk to him?”
“I’ll try.”
Ori picked up a tray of dirty glasses for washing. “You know he gets hit on a lot, too.”
“I get it, Ori, I said I’ll try. Now shoo!” Kíli smiled as he sent the younger boy off.
He turned back to the bar counter in time to catch Legolas looking at him. Remembering what Ori had said about his brothers, Kíli sighed again and gave the blond a small smile. He saw Legolas’ face light up, and the shy smile he got in return could have rivaled the sun with its brightness, and warmed a part of his heart he didn’t know had turned cold.
Maybe all would be okay again after this.
=====