So someone requested a One-Shot based on Kíli being wounded in "The Desolation of Smaug" that included a lot of brotherly love and no Tauriel. And of course I couldn't help but oblige since I am the biggest sucker for brotherly love and you all know that. I wish I could give a personal dedication to the person that requested this story but since the ask on tumblr was anonymous, I can't really.

So anon, this little drabble is for you, I hope you'll enjoy it :)

The light oft he many candles scattered across the parlour flickered violently as the wooden door burst open to reveal the frame of a Dwarf, rugged, dripping from falling into the freezing waters of the Long-Lake occasionally and, for a change, unable to say a single word for he was still out of breath.

"K- Ki-", before he could even finish his sentence, Óin had snatched the drenched weed from Bofur's hands, casting a worried glance at the still squirming and trembling youngster on the kitchen table. "-ingsf-f-f-oil. I-I b-b-elieve." The toymaker had found it by the sties, just as Bard had predicted and maybe he should not have taken the detour across those thin, rickety planks. It was Sigrid who eventually shooed Bofur to the hearth and put a warm blanket around his shoulders.

"Hold'im down! Steady, I need him steady!"

Steady. Fíli almost huffed, trying yet again to get a good grip on his struggling brother. Every groan, every scream resounded tenfold in his head and if he had taken an arrow to the leg himself, his pain could not have been any greater. He grit his teeth, grasping Kíli by the shoulders and chest once more, only to immediately release his grip again when yet another pain-filled scream echoed through the small cabin.

"No no, hold tight! You're not hurtin' him, the wound is!"

"But what if I hurt him too?"

"Believe me laddie, you'd rather hurt'im than let'im die, wouldn't you?"

Fíli drew one last sharp breath before digging his fingers firmly into his brother's clothing, pushing him down with a force he had never used on him before. And still it did not seem enough.

While Óin hurried to mix the weeds with boiling water and a dash of alcohol to cleanse the wound, creating a paste that soon filled the room with the scent of orchards and sunshine, Fíli felt every pang, every agonising movement and he dearly wished to be in his brother's place only to end his suffering. His fingers dug into the linen of Kíli's shirt until his knuckles stood out white and he whispered a silent "Please just calm down. Please. You're only hurting yourself."

Yet Kíli heard none of it.

"Girls!" It was once again Óin's hoarse voice that cut through the groaning and pain and without any hesitation at all, both Sigrid and Tilda firmly grabbed both of Kíli's arms while Bofur dropped the blankets and took a good hold of the young prince's legs, not caring about the freezing water dripping off his clothes anymore.

"Hold him right down, don't let him move- Fíli by Mahal's sake! Get a grip!"

"I- I can't", the youngster hesitated once again. "I don't-"

"You have more strength in you than that, now use it! Spoiled little princes the both of you, ye're a young fella, I know what you can do! Sit on his bloody chest if you must but do not let go!"

Another gut-wrenching scream echoed across the Long-Lake and Bofur would not have been surprised if it had been heard all the way to Erebor. Kíli squirmed one last time before Fíli finally put all his weight in and held his brother down just fine.

Ripping the thin fabric at Kíli's leg, Óin easily exposed the wound, not hesitating to pour a good gulp of brandy over it and cleaning the blood off with a clean cloth, entirely ignoring the screams of agony and despair coming from the young Dwarf on the table. "Hold him!" The paste burned in the wound, turning the skin around it bright red within only a few seconds. Fíli screwed up his eyes, wishing dearly to be blind and deaf in this very moment only so that he would not have to see his brother's anguish any longer. It shattered his heart into a million tiny pieces and he surely would never forget those nightmare-inducing sounds again in his life.

Within a mere minute, though for Fíli it felt like hours with time passing by painfully slow, it was all over. Kíli drew one last rattling breath before finally calming down, his eyes falling shut and in a streak of panic, Fíli almost grabbed him to shake him up again, force him to look at him but a mere warning glare from Óin stopped him before he could cause any more harm.

"Have some faith, laddie", the old healer muttered, wrapping a clean bandage around the wound. "He's of Durin's blood. Your kind is hard to kill, you've proven that over an' over in the past."

The sudden silence almost seemed deafening. While Bofur returned to the hearth to warm his soaked bones, Sigrid offered a hot mug of tea to the young prince, which Fíli accepted with trembling fingers. Not for a second would he leave his brother's side, not even to warm his own shaking body by the fire. His gaze rested on Kíli all the time, fingers occasionally brushing a dark strand of hair from his face. It wasn't until Kíli's breathing became somewhat regular and deep again, that Fíli calmed down a little. He settled down on one of the wooden stools, elbows resting on the table beside his brother's head and occasionally took a sip from the tea.

Soon Bofur's snoring echoed through the cabin and even Óin had settled down, a blanket pulled up to his nose while he stared into the fire, leaving Fíli unsure whether he had fallen asleep or not. The two girls had disappeared into the shared bedroom already and Bard and Bane had not returned. The young prince stayed awake though, way into the night and when the moon already stood high above the lake, he flinched at a sudden movement by his side. Maybe he had dozed off a little, he couldn't tell. Ever since Kíli had been shot, the whole world had seemed somewhat unreal.

"Hey."

Half a landslide seemed to fall off Fíli's shoulders when he heard the weak, raspy voice of his brother. Though exhaustion still held both brothers firmly in it's grip, they both managed a smile, small but so earnest that it could have brightened the day without much effort.

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

"Fine. I think. Just tired", Kíli shrugged, shifting a little and regretting it the next minute for the wound on his leg still ached and throbbed but it was a good kind of pain. The kind of pain that came before the healing began. "You look awful though."

"Look who's talking", Fíli heaved a sigh, shaking his head to himself. "You idiot had me so worried."

"Nah, I'm fine. Just a flesh wound."

"By Mahal if you weren't beat up enough already I'd knock your lights out right now."

Kíli chuckled and it was the most beautiful sound Fíli had heard in ages. It sounded like the dripping of water to someone close to dying of thirst. He gently clasped his brother's hand, a smile glistening in his blue eyes like it had barely ever done before.

"They've all gone, haven't they?"

"Yeah. But no worries, we'll follow as soon as you're healed."

"You could've gone with them you know?"

To that, Fíli merely shook his head, no words needed. Leaving his brother behind was no option. Even if it meant that everything he had ever dreamt of would have to wait, even if it meant ignoring the wishes of his uncle, his king. Because no matter what wonders they would face, no matter how tempting an adventure would be, none of it was more important than a brother.

"It wouldn't be the same. That moment, that very moment when we'd have entered Erebor for the first time, that was always a moment we shared. Ever since we were kids, I've always imagined it being you and me together walking through that door and I-" Fíli shrugged. "I couldn't imagine seeing our home without you. I'd rather wait a hundred years more than going there on my own."

Weak fingers squeezed Fíli's hand, a thankful smile on Kíli's lips. "I'd have done the same. You know, if for a change you'd have been the idiot to get shot."

"That's never gonna happen. You'll always be the idiot between the two of us."

Again Kíli chuckled and this time Fíli joined in, still a little quiet, still a little shaky but honest and relieved. He would make it. He would survive the Orcish witchcraft and travel to Erebor with him soon and then everything would change forever. A bright and prosperous future lay ahead of them and they'd greet it together because neither of the brothers could imagine it any other way.

"Thank you. For taking care."

"That's what bigger brothers do."