I went to see the Desolation of Smaug this past weekend, and only now have I finished checking and correcting this story, originally written in the wee hours of this morning. Before you go on to read this, I ask that you read my inspirations from/theories pertaining to the themes of the movie:
1) Thorin cares for his nephews a lot, and it doesn't take a lot of squinting to see it. In the movie, Thorin asks his nephews to stay behind. Kili was injured during their escape from Mirkwood, and despite Thorin's half-hearted protest, Fili stays with his brother. I saw Thorin being vulnerable for a moment. He wants his nephews to see their stolen homeland, and yet he wants to keep them safe from the dragon (whom he doesn't even know if status is alive, dead, or dying). Plus, the fact that the youngest got injured makes Thorin that much overprotective of them. You could almost see relief in his expression when Fili stayed behind with his brother. Others say it's the effects of the gold sickness already, but I'm not so sure (see #3).
2) Thorin never wanted Smaug to go to Lake-town. In the movie-verse, the dwarves do their best to kill Smaug within the walls of Erebor, fail, and see him limping off towards Lake-town. Thorin's nephews (again, in the movie) are in Lake-town, compounding the guilt he already feels for leaving them behind. This would not only encourage any actions of vengeance he might take (including preparing the entire mountain to kill Smaug when he comes back, as in his mind he sees Lake-town turned to ash as before and most inhabitants dead), but also leave him more vulnerable to the gold-sickness. Both would result from feeling he failed his boys, who are his only family left at this point since Peter Jackson said his mother is dead in this movie-verse, died before they went on their journey. Those feelings of failing the ones he called his heirs and, more importantly, sons would cause the actions as described in the story below.
3) Gold-sickness affects the person once they are surrounded by gold, not necessarily when shielded from their view by a big mountain with a scaly dragon that needs defeating. Plus, it affects the person more after long periods of exposure, which is why Thorin gets more mad the longer he and the other dwarves remain in the mountain.
Thank you ever so kindly for your patience with these ideas that came to me during and after viewing the movie (good job, Peter Jackson, by the way). I hope you enjoy this fanfic, review at the bottom, and see the movie [not necessarily in that order ;-)]. Update: Thanks to Niobie's excellent memory and keen eye, I fixed the errors concerning our favorite, fluffy-hatted dwarf, as well as the incorrect interchanging of Dale and Lake-town.
Disclaimer: Not ever mine, but I would love to be an extra in the last movie!
Thorin could only watch as Kíli was lowered onto the bed, still writhing in pain from the arrow that had gone clean through his leg. He could only watch as Fíli knelt beside his bedside, begging Kíli to hold on because he couldn't lose him too, not like they had with father and then their mother.
He was aware of his own fear spreading throughout his body; fear that he would lose his youngest nephew, like he had almost the rest of his family. He also became aware of Dwalin's insistent tugging on his arm, and anger spread through him. He had to meet the Master of Lake-town, yes, but surely that could wait! His nephew lay in agony, and the healers were not even sure of his condition!
"Thorin," he looked at Dwalin. "There will be time to check on your nephews later. We must confirm our status with the Master, get refreshed, and get rooms for ourselves. Your nephew must come afterwards." He looked back to where Kíli lay, still thrashing about, with Fíli holding onto his hand. "You know Fíli will take care of him."
"Fine," he ground out. "Let's go." The last thing he saw before striding out of the room was the look of utter fear on Fíli's face, and the wrenching pain Kíli was experiencing.
He wanted to hate himself for being called away.
The next time they mentioned Kíli, they were outside his room, conversing in hushed tones.
"Thorin," Dwalin whispered. "The lad is injured gravely, despite his seeming recovering state."
"I know," he responded. "What is your point?"
"The point," Balin interjected, "is to get you to realize that bringing both boys to the mountain is a fool's errand."
"They are my heirs." Why couldn't they see? "They are all I have left." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I would have them see what they were deprived of."
"They will also see what deprived them of it, and maybe that will be the last thing they ever see," Balin replied. "Would you drag your kin into a battle you are not sure you will win?"
"Would you leave your kin here to be tended by strangers while you risk the lives of others to gain back what you lost?" Thorin shot back.
"Thorin," Dwalin began. "This isn't about whether the boys should come with us or not. Both your boys have proven that ten times over. This is about whether or not they, especially Kíli, will last when we fight against that cursed worm."
"We both know you have worked hard and long for your boys to see our homeland," Balin picked up. "And we both know that if you lose them to that dragon, then we will have lost you as well." Thorin sighed and rubbed at his eyes. He hated that, as leader of the company, he couldn't check up on his nephews as often as he'd like. And now, when they were so close to achieving their goal, the two he held most dear to him wouldn't be there to help him.
"Excuse me?" They turned to see Bofur and Óin standing there, looking hesitant.
"Yes?" Thorin asked gruffly.
"From what it sounds like, both of you will be wanting the boys to stay away from the mountainside," Bofur explained. "I propose that Óin and I stay here with the lads. That way they will be with folk you can trust and you can make the place ready for our arrival."
"Besides," the aged healer interjected. "Your lads need to be looked after by a healer of their own, with more sense than these human ones have." Thorin needed to come to a decision. The dwarves waited with baited breath.
"Alright," he said wearily. "Both of them will remain behind with you, Bofur, and Óin." They bowed to their king. Balin suddenly looked troubled.
"What is it, brother?" Dwalin asked of him.
"Fíli will feel torn in two," he said. "He will want to be there for his brother, but he will also want to go to the mountain with us." He looked to Thorin. "I fear he may choose us instead."
"His loyalty is first to his brother, and then to me," Thorin stated calmly. "He will not leave his brother."
"But what if he cannot decide?" Balin persisted. Thorin sighed.
"I will make that choice for him."
"Kíli, stay here. Rest. Join us when you're healed."
Thorin had finished speaking to Kíli, turning away before his youngest nephew could see the emotion raging in his gaze. He heard Óin saying his piece, and then him speaking as though far away from this scene. He directed the company to the boats that awaited them, watching as each of them got in and moved their packs of food and water around. It was time.
"Uncle." He saw Fíli and sighed internally. He knew what to say to make him stay with his younger brother. He knew what he had to say, both as a king and as their uncle. "We grew up on tales of the Mountain, tales you told us. You cannot take that away from him!"
"Fíli –"
"I will carry him if I must!"
"One day you will be king and you will understand." He wondered if the bitter taste in his mouth was real or imagined. "I cannot risk the fate of this quest for the sake of one dwarf – not even my own kin." He watched as Fíli started to leave the boat, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Fíli, don't be a fool. You belong with the Company."
"I belong with my brother," Fíli replied, cold blue eyes glaring back at him. Thorin could only nod as he got up out of the boat to join Óin. He looked to the house where Bofur had retired to the night before, drunker than normal. He had been worried that Bofur would have spilled out what they were planning, but he needn't have worried as Óin kept an eye on him, visibly unhappy at what the morrow would bring. None of them were fond of this plan, but he could not deny the wisdom of it.
They would remain. They would be safe. He looked ahead towards the mountain as they shoved off.
If he were to die with the wretched creature, he would die knowing that his heirs were alive and would take over rebuilding of both Erebor and Dale. Relief filled his heart to soon be replaced by anger.
He would die before letting Smaug out of Erebor alive.
Fíli sat beside his brother's bed, shaking his head at how their uncle could take them this far only to abandon them once they reached the area of the desolation. Despair filled his heart.
"What did we do, brother, that would make him want to cast us aside?" he whispered. "He knows we would consider it an honor to aid in bringing him down within Erebor, no matter what."
"I don't know," Kíli replied. He looked so miserable, much more so with his fever rising. "I failed him, Fee."
"Hush, Kee," he responded. "He left us. If anything, he failed us." He heard Bofur's and Óin's voices outside the door. Wondering at what they were saying, he looked down at his brother, and sighed.
"Rest easy, little brother," he whispered. "I shall be right back." With that, he eased himself up and off the chair by the bedside and crept towards the door. Hesitating slightly outside the thick pine of the door, he carefully put his ear against it and started to hear what they were saying more clearly. Not spying on them. Not at all.
" – worry for the lad, Bofur," Óin was saying. "That arrow may have been poisoned. We must try other remedies."
"Aye, and I worry for the other one as well," Bofur said, sighing. "Hopefully the others will destroy the dragon and then all will be well again."
"Not everything, Bofur," the healer replied. "You know as well as I do how hurt the lads were at what Thorin said to them. Thorin knew, and he still said those words!" Fíli's brow furrowed in confusion. He looked to Kíli, who raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to continue listening.
"If Thorin hadn't said what needed to be said, then those lads would have come with us all the way into Erebor, to help kill the dragon no less," Bofur argued. "Even you could see how much he wanted them to come along. 'Twas Balin and Dwalin who stopped him."
"Aye, and a good thing at that," Óin grumbled softly. "Those boys were too young to come along. Thorin should never have let them come."
"Thorin knew it was no use." He heard Bofur exhale loudly. "What's done is done. At least we can comfort ourselves that if all goes well, the sons of Durin will be reunited and the rebuilding will start."
"And if they fail," Óin finished. "If our company fails to kill that beast, then at least Thorin knows his nephews will be as far away from danger as possible."
"Exactly." Bofur agreed. "Better for him to die without them falling in front of him. His line is secure this way." Fíli felt shock seep into his soul. Without warning, he tore open the door, leaving both his brother and the two dwarves standing just outside gaping in disbelief.
"You planned this?" he asked, looking at both intently. When it became clear they would not answer, he roared, "YOU PLANNED THE ENTIRE THING?!"
"Only when we overheard Balin and Dwalin talking to Thorin about keeping the two of you safe," Bofur tried calmly.
"Fíli?" Kíli asked warily, wincing around the spreading pain in his leg.
"They planned this, brother." He glared at the two dwarves he thought to be comrades, friends. "They convinced Uncle he should leave us behind!"
"What!" He heard Kíli yell out, both in pain and anger. "But why? We all know I'm not a burden. I could have made it there like this!"
"Let's all calm down," Bofur soothed. "We can explain –"
"No." Fíli made to shove past him. "We're going to help uncle."
"Oh no, you're not."
"Of course we are!" Kíli snapped as he tried to remove himself from his bed, wincing when his leg was being cooperative. Fíli nodded and glared at them when they wouldn't budge before him.
"I swear to both of you," he gritted out. "If you don't –"
"IF NEITHER OF YOU SIT DOWN AND BEHAVE, I SHALL USE MY STICK ON YOU, SO HELP ME, MAHAL!" Óin shouted. His glare tempered the fight left in Fíli, and he subtly nodded to his brother, who then relaxed. "Now, you lads sit together."
"But –"
"SIT." Fíli went to comply, helping adjust his brother so he was more comfortable on the bed. Óin looked intensely at each of them before nodding and standing at the very foot of the bed, Bofur standing behind looking quite nervous. "Now, lads, you know that your uncle left you here." He looked to Fíli, who locked eyes with him. "And you've just heard part of the reason why he did so."
"He did so because you told him to!" Fíli almost thundered. "You don't think us capable of helping end that beast!"
"Not in your condition, no," Óin countered smoothly. "And he wasn't going to do what needed to be done if he had to watch over you two constantly." Fíli looked at his brother, then looked back at the healer.
"What do you mean?" he asked quietly.
"You see, lads," Bofur took over. "Thorin planned on the beast being dead or dying when he got this far. He planned on ending the beast within Erebor, and that would be that. What he didn't plan on was on taking a barrel ride down the river and one of you being injured. Right now, no one knows the condition of the beast. Thorin didn't want to take any chances with you."
"We've been injured before," they argued in unison, but Bofur waved them off.
"Injured with more than adequate healers and medicines, not on a journey to reclaim a homeland from the beast who slaughtered more of us than have come back to reclaim it." He sighed. "Now less than that." He allowed the ensuing silence to swallow his words.
"So… " Kíli paused. "Uncle isn't mad at us?"
"No, lad," Bofur shook his head. "Worried sick and proud of ye, oh most definitely. But you were injured, and fortunately he was made to see reason regarding the attack on Smaug."
"What kind of reason?" Fíli asked guardedly. Bofur looked to Óin, who shrugged, and only then continued.
"Basically, the remainder of our company that has journeyed on will work on defeating Smaug within the walls of Erebor and thus end his reign of terror. If they succeed, all will be well and everything will be right as rain with you three." He paused. "Thorin realized that if he and the others fail, at least you two will be safe. He would rather die by defeating Smaug – and know that if there is no other course of action, he would do it! – and giving the two of you a home than all three of you dying together." He met their glares equally. "He would rather die as one than die and lose you two as well." The two brothers absorbed the elder dwarf's words in silence, and nodded.
"We understand," Fíli stated. He went to pick up his acquired clothing and weapons. "But he understands that we will do anything – ANYTHING – to keep him safe. Even if it is to protect him from dragon's fire."
"But –" Bofur protested.
"We know what you all did," Kíli stated, again shifting out of bed. "But if we are not there for Uncle, we won't forgive ourselves." His eyes grew moist. "WE can't lose him!" he burst out. Fíli moved over to his brother's side, helping raise him from the bed.
"You can't do this!" Bofur exclaimed.
"Can, and are," Fíli said shortly. "Kíli, where are – Kíli? KÍLI!" He quickly moved his brother back over to the bed and helped him ease down upon it.
"'S okay, Fee," Kíli murmured. "We gotta meet up with Uncle." He made to stand only to groan aloud and go limp upon the covers.
"In a moment, Kíli," Fíli assured him. He watched as Óin felt his forehead; it was burning up.
"Damn!" he heard Óin swear. "Fever's spiking again." He dimly hear Óin discuss possible remedies with Bofur, where they could find them, but focused his attention on his little brother who continued to cough while his entire body writhed once again in extreme pain.
We are coming, Uncle, he vowed silently. Once Kíli is better, we are coming. You made a mistake leaving us behind. We will prove it to you.
Thorin watched as the beast stumbled out of the mountain and towards the Lake-town. Barely hearing Bilbo's words, he felt sick as each step the dragon took brought him closer to his injured kin, his injured boys.
Why does every attempt I make to better the lives of those around me fail miserably? He thought angrily. Why couldn't we have destroyed him here? WHY? Mahal, do you even care that not only your children but the humans as well will burn tonight through no fault of their own? He turned to face the remainder of his company, blackened with soot and identical looks of shock on their faces. He sighed.
"Prepare for the dragon's return," he ordered. "Let's make this entire mountain his deathtrap." Grim smiles and nods accepted the order. Once the dragon killed their kin, all this gold they were surrounded by would not be worth living for. Better to kill the dragon and die surrounded by it than live tortured by the deaths of their beloved kin, the ones that they were inadequately prepared to save.
Forgive me, Fíli and Kíli. I have failed you as your Uncle and as your King. I swear upon these halls I shall not rest in avenging your deaths. The molten gold that flowed past him looked tempting to the eye, tempting to touch and feel, tempting to reshape into something worth using, but he pushed it out of his mind for now. Maybe afterwards he could take a look at all of it, if he was unfortunate enough to survive.
"Bilbo, come with me." He gestured in front of him. "I want you to show me what you found inside our halls. I need to know all that you know if we are to be prepared to end the worm once he gets back." Together they scurried back into the mountain, vengeance singing through their veins. They may have failed in their first, poorly planned assault on the dragon, but they would not fail a second time.