AN: This is slight AU set after the Battle of the Five Armies - the events leading up to it are the same as they happened in the films, save for the relationship between Kíli and Tauriel - they are simply friend's in this.
WARNINGS: This fiction is SLASH between Fíli and Kíli. Please do not read if this isn't your cup of tea and if you do; remember it's only fiction.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything by J. R. R. Tolkien or Peter Jackson.
Thank you all for taking your time to read this and I hope to hear what you all think.
Chapter One
- O -
As Kíli, son of Dís walked towards the training hall, the sounds of metal clashing upon metal reached his ears.
The young prince smirked and silently slipped into the vast stone room, stopping for a moment to observe the two dwarves duelling for victory within the sparing ring. He wasn't the only spectator, a small crowd had gathered around them, having given up an pretence of training in favour of watching the contest unfold.
The larger warrior of the two was taller and broader even than most, but moved with a lithe grace that spoke of unmatched experience against enemies, and in war.
Dwalin was certainly a force to be reckoned with, many a brave dwarf who challenged him ending up sorely regretting their offer. However, his opposition on this day easily kept up with the larger dwarf with a surprising amount of grace and skill of his own.
In a whirl of golden hair, corded muscle and wielding his dual swords, Fíli perhaps even matched Dwalin's technique as they clashed, sword against axe, over and over, unable to bring down the other. However, it seemed that his brother's good fortune was to last.
In a move too quick to follow, the Crown Prince knocked one twin axe from the warrior's grasp, kicking his feet from under him and pinning the larger dwarf - the very tips of his swords pressed against his throat.
"Do you yield, Master Dwalin?" And there was more than just a hint of triumph heard in Fíli's voice.
"Aye! Aye! Get off now will ya', lad?" Came the gruff reply, and the prince backed away, his grin not easily missed.
Kíli walked towards the ring then, his hands clapping together in recognition of his brother's conquest. "Why brother, I wouldn't gloat so. After all, this is but one victory against hundred's lost."
Fíli turned towards Kíli in surprise, but his smile was no less bright even with the other's taunting words. "Indeed, this is the first against Dwalin, but I daresay not the last."
The youngest prince hoisted himself over the wooden barricade and went to his brother, clapping a hand against his bare shoulder. "Let us hope not, brother. Your ego may never recover otherwise."
Fíli laughed heartily and returned the embrace. "Aye. Now come, Kíli. A drink at the Smith's Hammer is in order I think. Let's celebrate."
Kíli readily agreed, but before leaving, turned to the defeated warrior with a grin. "Master Dwalin-"
The dwarf glared at him. "It was pure luck." He interrupted with a growl.
Kíli simply laughed. "Or you're getting rusty with age."
"Ya' think so, lad? Shall we test that then? You and me?" As Dwalin reached for his remaining axe, Kíli took an unconscious step back to the uproarious laughter of his brother.
"That's what I thought." The larger dwarf smirked, knowing full well that he could beat the youngest prince with one arm tied behind his back.
Fíli was still laughing as he pulled his brother back over the partition and away from the ring.
As they made their way out of the training hall, Kíli couldn't help but glance at the elder, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of his brother's face flushed with happiness. An all too familiar feeling clawed at Kíli's heart and, like always, he forced down the emotion.
It was approaching on two decades ago that Kíli first realised that the love he felt for Fíli wasn't purely of a platonic nature. Since that day, he had tried his hardest to hide his shameful emotions, fearful of his brother's reaction above all others.
It was very rare, but not unheard of, for dwarves to fall for those with whom they shared the same blood, but it usually happened between cousin's, never siblings. Even so, Kíli would often allow his thoughts to wonder, imagining what it would feel like if Fíli loved him in return, if their relationship was accepted by others. But deep down, he knew that it was impossible. For starters Thorin would never allow it. Why would he? Fíli was the future King Under the Mountain and was expected to one day marry and produce heirs of his own.
Kíli tried desperately not to think about that, but it was impossible and every time he did, his heart twisted painfully and his breath felt short in coming.
"Why the long face, brother?"
The young prince looked up startled, not realising that he had been letting some of his emotions play across his face. "I am fine. I was just lost in thought is all." And as the weight of Fíli's gaze bore down on him, he gave his brother a pat on the back and a laugh to hide his discomfort. "Truly I am fine. Now go and dress, Fee. Otherwise you will be fending off suitors left and right in your state on undress."
Seemingly convinced that Kíli was, in fact, alright, the elder grinned before heading off to his chambers to find a fresh set of clothing.
- O - O - O -
The Smith's Hammer was the only tavern within the Lonely Mountain and thus a popular place for dwarves to gather, drink and be merry.
Sitting at the far end of the bar, Kíli could hear his brother, who was sitting at a table further away, as he spoke animatedly of his victory to all who would listen.
Over the brim of his tankard, the young prince allowed himself a rare moment to gaze unreservedly upon his brother. He saw the way his eyes lit up in good humour, how his mouth seemed curved into a permanent smirk, the swish of his braids as he moved and spoke, and the way that every dwarf gathered around him hung off his every word.
Kíli hated every single one of them.
In the pit of Kíli's stomach, an ugly feeling reared it's head. Jealousy. As hard as he tried to push it down, it grew as his eyes tracked each unwanted brush of fingers against his brother's arm, leg or shoulder.
Unconsciously, his hand clenched into a fist and his gaze turned dark until nearly murderous.
He cursed his bloodline, and not for the first time. However, the young prince didn't wholly mean it, else he wouldn't have the close relationship with his brother as he did.
Fíli's re-enactment of his victory finally drew Kíli from his black thoughts, and he couldn't help but laugh as his brother made a show of how he'd managed to disarm Dwalin.
"Excuse me, but would I be wrong in assuming that you're Prince Kíli?"
Kíli turned to the raven haired male in surprise, realising that he had been so caught up in looking at his brother, that he had failed to notice anyone approaching.
After taking a moment to observe the short bearded dwarrow with dark blue eyes, and realising that the dwarf didn't appear to be much older than himself, the prince bowed his head in acknowledgment. "Just Kíli, please. You can save the titles for my brother."
The dwarrow rocked back on his heels, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "Erm…well yes, yes, fine."
When the dwarf didn't elaborate any further, Kíli raised a brow of his own and he took a quick swig from his tankard before speaking. "And you are, Master Dwarf?"
"Oh! Yes, forgive me your High-Kíli. I'm surprised is all. I didn't expect you to be so…so…"
"Relaxed?" He helpfully supplied.
"Exactly!" The dwarrow took in a deep breath and seemed to compose himself. "I am Rordin, son of Ordrin. At your service." And he gave a short bow.
"Well met, Master Rordin. Have you recently arrived to Erebor? I don't recall seeing you before now."
"Please, forget the title. And aye, I have journeyed from the Iron Hills with my father for the anniversary of your victory."
Ah yes. Kíli thought. In two weeks time it would have been five years since the Battle of the Five Armies and now that Erebor had been rebuilt, Thorin, with the weighted encouragement of his advisors, was throwing a celebration in remembrance of our triumph.
"Well then, allow me to welcome you properly into our Mountain." And he set aside his empty tankard, signalling the bartender for two more.
"Oh, well thank you." The dwarrow seemed a bit flustered and Kíli couldn't help but smirk at his discomfort.
"So tell me, Rordin. Why do you keep your beard so short?" It was quite a rude question to ask, especially considering he'd only just met the dwarf, but Kíli was unable to contain his curiosity at such a rare sight. Aside from himself, Uncle was the only dwarf to keep his beard deliberately shorn and that was out of respect and in remembrance of those who had fallen since the dragon came.
Rordin bristled at bit at such a direct question, but didn't seem overly offended. "I could ask you the same thing."
"Archery." Kíli said instantly, unashamed of this fact.
The dwarrow grinned then. "Then we have something in common."
The young prince couldn't help but be surprised and his own smile spread easily across his face.
Archery, although used when needed, was not a common practise for dwarves as they often found the skill better suited to elves.
Their tankards of ale were set upon the counter then and after thanking the bartender, Kíli passed one to Rordin, holding his own in the air. "Here's to the oddity of archery and short beards!" And they both laughed heartily before taking a swig of the amber coloured liquid.
"I…admit that our meeting wasn't purely by chance." Rordin said after a moment, looking down briefly before meeting the prince's eyes once more.
Kíli regarded the dwarrow with sudden wariness. "Oh?"
"Not many of the dwarves favour the bow and I had heard of your skill with the weapon."
Kíli relaxed and couldn't help but flush in pleasure at hearing this.
"I…had hoped…" Rordin trailed off and the prince grasped the other's arm, suddenly understanding what the dwarf was trying to say.
"Would you like to shoot with me?" And he sorely failed at trying to temper down the excitement in his voice.
The dwarrow grinned without reserve, raising his tankard into the air "It would be an honour indeed, Kíli!"
The young prince couldn't help but laugh, never before having the pleasure of a shooting companion. The very thought was exhilarating.
At that moment his eyes sought out his brother, and noticed with a start that Fíli was already staring at him, a frown creasing his brow. Even so, his heart gave a familiar flip and he spared his brother a smile, before turning back to his companion and clamping a hand over the dwarf's shoulder.
"Are you busy tomorrow?" He asked eagerly.
Rordin shook his head.
"Well ready your bow, we shall go into the forests and shoot something other than mere targets."
The dwarrow looked surprised, but incredibly pleased by this. "When shall I meet you?"
Kíli thought about this for a moment. "The front gates, mid morn?"
Rordin grinned and nodded his agreement. "I look forward to it, it will be a true pleasure!"
"What will?"
Kíli couldn't help but tense at the sound of his brother's voice, suddenly and unexpectedly so close. "Brother, allow me introduce Rodin, son of Ordrin." And when he glanced over his shoulder, started at the fact that Fíli stood with less than an arms width between them.
Heart suddenly in his throat, Kíli took a small step forward as Rordin gave the Crown Prince a bow.
"Prince Fíli. It is an honour." The dwarrow said once he had straightened.
His brother bowed his head in return. "Likewise. So, what were the two of you discussing before I interrupted?"
"Kíli has asked me to hunt with him, it seems that we both have a love of the bow."
Kíli was unable to decipher the look that passed through his brother's eyes then, but in an instant it was gone again.
"Well it seems as though you are no longer the odd one out, Kee." And Fíli grinned teasingly at him.
"Neither of us are anymore." And as Rordin laid his hand on Kíli's arm, the youngest prince smiled in return, missing how his brother looked upon the grasp with a slight frown.
"Now then, the hour is late and if I hope to be on time tomorrow, I must retire. Goodnight Prince Fíli. Kíli, I will see you in the morn." And with one last smile and a bow, the dwarrow quickly disappeared into the dwindling crowd.
After watching Rordin leave, Fíli turned back to his brother. "I see you have made fast friends with that dwarf."
Kíli's grin came easily as he missed the undercurrent within in the elder's voice. "Aye indeed. Perhaps the coming banquet won't be so boring after all!"
"Oi!" Fíli exclaimed, elbowing his brother. "I'll be there."
Kíli laughed, slinging an arm around the elder's shoulders. "Yes, but you'll actually have to behave like the Crown Prince with all of those foreign dignitaries visiting."
Fíli scoffed. "As will you, brother."
The youngest prince merely smirked. "No one will be paying as much attention to me. Besides, I have full intentions of leaving once the actual feast is over."
The elder looked slightly affronted. "And leave me to deal with them all by myself?"
Kíli pretended to look thoughtful for a moment, earning himself another elbow, and grinned. "Oh you know I'd never leave you, Fee."
Suddenly his brother's gaze held a weight that Kíli didn't understand. "I hope not," But before the archer could try and decipher the look, Fíli smiled light-heartedly. "I wouldn't know what I'd do without my little brother."
Kíli couldn't help the choked sound that bubbled in his throat and covered it up with a laugh. "You'd be utterly bored. Now come, brother. Let us finish our ale's before we return to our rooms."
To be continued…