Warnings: implied incest, dwarfcest. Durincest
Written for my Hurt/Comfort prompt - Emotion
EMOTIONAL JOURNEY
Chapter 1 – Bag End and the Beginning of the Journey
Fili spent the first half of their journey to Bag End trying to keep Kili moving forward when he insisted on stopping to touch, smell, and examine every form of animal, fowl or fauna in their path. He was relentless in his passion and exuberance, something Fili had always envied in him and made him proud to be his brother. Kili was fearless, unassuming, naive at times and blunt as the dullest knife in the forge. His heart was also as big as any mountain, and Fili adored him. He was Fili's other half, the dark to Fili's light, the spark to Fili's calm, but his excessive curiosity was certainly an encumbrance when they were supposed to be getting from one point to the next.
The second half of their travels saw Fili trying to tamp down the overwhelming excitement and relentless chatter Kili forced upon him as they neared their destination. Truth be told, Fili was secretly relieved for the distraction that was, and had always been, his little brother. His own nerves were threatening to revolt, so close to burrowing through his skin to see the light, to wreak havoc on his outsides as they did his insides, that Fili wasn't sure he wouldn't just tumble to the ground in a writhing mass of anxiety.
Kili kept his mind occupied so he didn't have to consider the steely, on-edge anticipation that was about so much more than their uncle's quest. It was an important task, to say the least, but in Fili's thoughts it came a struggling second to seeing Thorin again.
He felt foolish in thought and clumsy in action as they finally found their way into Hobbiton in search of the mysterious mark on one of the hobbits' doors. Kili bounced on ahead, stumbling here and there in the darkness while Fili sought to keep his own excitement and worries compressed. Kili found the door first, not even bothering to open the tiny white gate but vaulting its height instead while barely managing to avoid trampling an entire row of flowers. It was not the way Fili had intended their arrival to be.
Fili hissed out a warning, summoning Kili to his side with a well-practiced furl of his lip and quirk of his eyebrow. "Relax, brother," he spoke softly while they paused outside the green door. "You'll want to make a good impression, won't you? Remember, we're among the youngest to be present, and we don't want to cause Uncle any undue shame or embarrassment."
Kili groaned and Fili was sure he was close to stomping his feet as he'd done so often as a young dwarfling when he didn't get his way or life just moved too slow for him. He grinned when Kili finally leaned in for a brief but desperate hug, then let out a big whoosh of breath.
"All right. I'm ready."
When they rang the bell, Kili's face was stone cold sober and Fili barely smothered a smirk at the ridiculous seriousness of his little brother's usual carefree demeanor. He supposed it was a sign of maturity on Kili's part but also an act of solidarity with Fili in order to make Thorin proud. It was also important to Fili to find some respectability amongst the group of dwarves who were mostly far older and experienced.
Of course, their mature respectability went straight out the window when Kili called the hobbit the wrong name. Fili held back from smacking him on the forehead. Despite their shaky arrival and the confusion of whether it had been cancelled or not, they somehow still managed to forcefully—Kili's doing—push past the hobbit who did not appear the least bit happy to see them.
Fili reached deep within himself for courage to bypass the giant butterflies flapping in his belly as he strolled through the door with his usual façade of arrogance and calm. He shoved his knives at the hobbit, barking instructions he couldn't even remember twenty heartbeats later, but nonetheless thought were necessary to show some sort of status with the stranger.
Dwalin and Balin were surprisingly the first to arrive, and after disrespecting the hobbit's glory box Kili quickly rushed to his hero's side. Whereas Fili had always had a single dwarf he'd emulated for his entire life, Kili's allegiances rocked back and forth from one hero to the next—with the exception of Thorin, of course—but Dwalin had always been one of his favorites. Fili slipped into the dining room behind his brother, smiling his pleasantries then helping to move tables and more importantly, to crack open a new barrel of ale.
It didn't take long for Kili to drag Fili into the dwarf festivities, and he found himself involuntarily lowering his anxious, protective guard and participating in the fun. He'd even gone as far as singing and misbehaving with his brother—he loved to sing and rarely indulged himself anymore because of a skewed sense of responsibility.
Being heir apparent had weighed heavily on Fili's shoulders ever since Thorin had started his plan to reclaim Erebor. And though it wasn't as if he was being groomed as Thorin's second yet, Fili dreamed of ruling beside him, with him, and it was high time he started gaining his own respectability.
Still it had been a relief to allow himself the freedom of just letting go for even a moment, especially since he'd felt so pent-up and impatient with himself and the thoughts that had roved his mind since they started their journey. Anticipatory worry and stress had kept him awake for the last few nights, and he was positive he was running on adrenaline alone. Yet he felt no weariness as he recklessly stomped across the table handing out ale to his fellow dwarves—and deliberately ignoring the ever-present responsibility chant in his head.
He was disappointed when Thorin hadn't joined the party when they all sat down to eat, but he held his letdown close to his chest and proceeded to partake in the frivolity. He suffered a mixed bag of confused feelings really. He wanted to get his meeting with Thorin over with quickly so his nerves could settle back under his skin and he could focus on the journey's beginning. But there was also a spiral of dread coiled tightly in his gut and he worried something would go wrong. He supposed he had more time to prepare himself within the environment of the hobbit house before Thorin appeared and the real meeting began but it did little to console him.
Fili took in each member of Thorin's company as they sat and regaled each other with tales at the dining room table. They were a ragtag bunch of dwarves, many of whom Fili and Kili have never met before that very day, but as it was with most dealings of his kind, they were an easy lot to relax with and simply enjoy. He tried hard to follow the various conversations and goings-on, while the thrill and opposing dread of Thorin's expected arrival still burned a hole in his gut. When the final knock on the door alerted the company to their leader's arrival, Fili's heart pounded loudly in his ears and he felt almost lightheaded in his excitement.
Nevertheless, he hung back, as was his usual practice, one eye on Kili at all times despite the warm friendliness of those around them. Kili, of course, rushed to greet Thorin, and the sweet smile their uncle graced on his brother sent an unusual streak of green envy straight to Fili's heart. It was silly to feel such a thing when Thorin had always been a big part of both their lives, and whether Fili's heart was fulfilled in the end or not, always would be.
Thorin handed his cloak to Kili as he concentrated on his first words with Mr. Baggins. Fili quickly scurried up behind Kili to take it from his arms, carrying it as if it was precious cargo down the hobbit's hallway. He left Thorin's enthralling presence long enough to deposit the cloak safely in a corner of the great room, but not before he thumbed slowly across the collar and allowed himself to breathe in Thorin's scents which mingled on the fabric.
He returned to find Thorin and the others gathered around the dining room table. His gaze casually slipped to Thorin as he wiggled and squeezed himself to the back of the table where Kili has saved him a chair. But Thorin hadn't paid him any heed, his focus on a bowl of soup in front of him and the soft murmurs of Gandalf who hovered close at his side. Fili's spirits plummeted with his uncle's lack of attention, but he quickly chastised himself for putting so much emphasis on himself when there were far bigger things to be discussed and attended to.
Fili's attempt to contribute to the conversation went over well the first time, his voice strong and his heart true as he slapped his hand on the table.
"We may be few in numbers. But we're fighters, all of us! To the last dwarf."
He'd immediately looked to Thorin for a reaction to what he'd thought had been a firm show of solidarity and powerful statement to his commitment. There'd been none, and Fili's next announcement—"If there is a key, there must be a door" sounded like nothing more than musings of a foolish dwarfling than the revelations of an heir apparent. Kili had quickly piped up with his own observation, and to Fili's silent delight, it was more juvenile than what Fili had offered.
He gazed adoringly at his brother for a moment, knowing with no doubt that Kili's over-shadowing presence was often a mixed blessing. Kili was endearing to a fault, and Fili wouldn't have wished for any other dwarf to hold such an important role in his life. He wondered if that statement would always remain true. They would both—Aule willing—eventually find their Ones, but Fili hoped Kili would always be no more than a room away in his life, or a single royal wing away in the very least.
When he dragged his focus from Kili's joyous face, Fili was certain he caught the blink of Thorin's eyes in his direction. The king quickly looked away, but the glance displayed an unpleasant shadow on Thorin's face as he peered down at the table. Fili wondered if his scowl was one of disappointment toward Fili or just the result of an exhausting day for Thorin. Nevertheless, he sat up straighter in his chair, moving so he wasn't slouched into Kili's side, but rather mirroring his uncle's majestic pose.
He was gifted with no more passing looks from Thorin, nor did he seek out his uncle's gaze. When the time was right Thorin would greet him in his own gruff way, and Fili would be proud to have been patient.
That time never came.
Instead, as Fili made his way through the house, he overheard Thorin speaking with Balin about miners, toy makers, warriors and the like. Thorin hesitated when Balin asked about his time in the Blue Mountains over the past year and Fili paused to eavesdrop.
"To be honest, I wasn't there long. It was uninspiring," he said. "It was a pleasure to see my sister, as always, but the rest of my time was spent in frustration with my nephews' lack of progress in their training. Perhaps it just came to me how young they actually are to be heading out on such a expedition."
Fili was confused. Thorin had been in Ered Luin for nearly eight months, and he'd certainly not spent his time in frustration or disappointment…at least as far as Fili was concerned. As for inspiration and his youthfulness, Fili wasn't sure if he should be offended or try to strike the personal connotation from his mind.
"Aye, laddie. They are not as young as all that. And what of their skills? Does Kili still wield the bow?"
Thorin huffed out a breath and Fili could almost picture him shaking his head while he contemplated Kili and his weapon of choice. "I dare say the boy is an excellent shot, but you'll not hear me admit such a thing to him, lest he get a bigger head than he already has."
They laughed in that relaxed manner old friends have and Fili found himself smirking at the context of Thorin's remark. He was just about to leave the two dwarfs to their catching up when Balin asked his next question.
"Your nephews have grown into fine young dwarfs, though I'm happy to see they didn't inherit your ugly mug or grumpiness."
Thorin's laugh rumbled deep in his chest, striking a chord very deep in Fili's chest that curled and twined through the rest of his body. He shuddered but quickly contained himself.
After a moment or two, Balin coughed out his last chuckle before clearing his throat. "Do they have any prospects yet—the lads? To go about producing a Durin heir for the future I mean? It seems unlikely you'll be having one of your own, since I know which way the wind blows for you. I suppose I'd assumed Fili or Kili would carry the bloodline into the next century."
"They're both still young but there are indefinite plans to include Dain's niece in the consideration of producing an heir. Fili is the obvious choice since he's first in succession, and if we keep it somewhat in the family, it will establish a bond with Dain's folk and hopefully evoke some loyalty directed back at us. Dain is not my favorite dwarf at the moment for his refusal to join the quest, but for the better good, I can bow to his callousness."
A sharp stab of pain resonated with Fili's next four or five heartbeats. He slumped down the wall, his head dropping to his chest as he wound his arms around his waist. His thoughts whirled to whether he might have mistaken Thorin's words. Perhaps he'd meant to say Kili in his answer or was merely speaking without thought after his long journey. He had mentioned he'd been lost twice in search of Bilbo's house, so that spoke volumes in the revelation of how near exhaustion he undoubtedly was.
"And yourself, Thorin? Have I spoken out of turn in assuming you haven't found your One after all these years alone?"
"Hope never dies, my friend. Perhaps one day I'll have an heir of my own. One never knows these things, do they?"
Fili shoved up from the floor, using a nearby chair for leverage as he steadied himself on wobbly legs. He pulled his fur collar tighter together, feeling a sudden chill that struck deep in his bones. After squaring his shoulders and forcibly assuming his relaxed saunter, four steps took him around the corner to where Thorin and Balin reclined on two separate wooden benches across the alcove from one another. Despite the cloud of dread that hazed his mind and roiled his belly, he stopped in between the two dwarfs, summoning his best casual grin and bowing his head in respect.
"Balin. Thorin. Might I fetch you some more ale or, perhaps, red wine from the pantry?" He was pleased his voice remained calm unlike the shaky pain that stung him to the core.
"Thank you kindly, Fili," Balin replied. "I believe I'll just retire to the fire with my pipe though. Good evening, my friends."
Fili dipped his head again as Balin lifted up slowly from the bench, taking a moment to arch his back before stepping from the alcove.
"Uncle? Might we have a word in private? I've not had the chance to ask you about your journey thus far." Fili smiled adoringly at Thorin, but his uncle remained stoic and sober.
"Is your mother well, Fili?"
"Yes, she's quite well, though she was unhappy with Kili's and my departure."
Thorin nodded, his hair falling forward like a curtain hiding his face, streaks of silver shining brightly in the light of the lanterns. "Yes, I gathered she would not be the image of acceptance to have her dwarflings leave the nest."
"With all due respect, Uncle. I'm no longer a dwarfling, and if anyone should be privy to that fact it would be you."
Thorin lifted his head but displayed no reaction to what Fili had hoped would be a lighthearted attempt to open a more intimate line of communication between them. Instead, he pushed off the bench and rose so he stood tall and beautiful, mere inches from Fili's face. His hot breath tingled against Fili's skin and Fili struggled not to lean in and press their lips together.
"I picked up some extra supplies for you and Kili. We'll sort them out in the morning. I trust you and he have found a place to bed down for the night."
Fili stumbled on his words. "I had...had hoped we could be near you tonight since we've not see you for a few months." He'd never felt such apprehension in speaking his mind with Thorin before and it sent that same thread of nervousness spiking through him.
"I've no plans to sleep this evening, but you and your brother need your rest. We've a long journey ahead of us and neither of you have experienced being on the road before."
"With all due respect, Kili and I traveled here without incident."
Thorin's eyes narrowed but Fili was certain he saw a steely sadness behind the scowl. "There is no comparison of the two, Fili. You've not gained experience simply by traveling from your mother's arms to Hobbiton. I need you both at your best come morning, so find somewhere to rest for the night as I've instructed."
With a thick swallow, Fili nodded. "As you wish."
Thorin made no move to touch Fili even though Fili had witnessed him share different levels of contact with everyone in the tiny hobbit house including Kili. He reached out and softly gripped Thorin's forearm in a simple show of welcome—and a hopefully hidden desperation to touch him—but Thorin stepped quickly away. Fili contained the gasp that rose up from the very depths of his soul when Thorin turned his back and stepped past him.
The room was suddenly closing in on Fili, the air heavy and smothering. He needed to step out, to breath, to gather his whirling feelings. And since those were the only thoughts that made any kind of sense in his head, that's exactly what he did.
Kili's eyes were closed when Fili crawled into the bedroll beside him a few hours later. He'd shed his boots and coat by the door, not wanting to wake anyone with his rattling about since the house was stone cold silent. Kili stirred when Fili finally settled himself on the floor, pulling the blanket up to his chin as he lay flat on his back.
"Where were you?" Kili rolled to his side, propping his head on one hand as he gazed sleepy-eyed at Fili.
Fili should have known his brother wouldn't doze off without being sure he was safe.
"You missed the song. You know the one Uncle always sang to us when we were small. I know how much you love it, but when I looked around you were nowhere about."
"I took a walk," Fili replied quietly. He moved to roll away from Kili but was stopped by warm fingers cupping his jaw. He looked up into the deepness of Kili's eyes again. "Go to sleep, brother. Tomorrow is a day of new beginnings."
Kili thumbed over Fili's jaw before moving his hand back. "He has a lot on his mind, an entire company and kingdom in fact."
Fili closed his eyes and attempted to shut out his rattling thoughts as well as his brother's insistent need to talk. What he really didn't want was Kili attempting to speak logically...and it was such a rare turn about of roles. "I'm sleeping, Kili. I suggest you do the same."
"Has that ever worked for you before, Fee?"
"What is it you wish me to say?" He felt Kili settle beside him, one arm draped over Fili's chest as he snuggled in close.
"The truth as you've always spoken it, as you've always taught me. I've been by your side forever and I know when your heart is aching."
"My heart has ached for a long time. Today is no different than any other day."
"But it is. Things are not the same after what the two of you shared. Out of anyone in the world, it is you who should know what he is like and how his focus is rarely on one thing at a time."
"I don't wish for his focus."
Kili lay his hand flat over the rapid pounding inside Fili's chest. "Perhaps not, but you wish for his heart."
"I only want him to accomplish that which he needs in order to make him happy and have contentment in his own heart."
"At the cost of your own."
"I've paid no price to love him, Kili. It's simply been a part of me for as long as I can remember, and if the time I've spent with him is all I'm ever allotted, at least I had that much. Can we rest now?"
Kili sighed heavily against Fili but he, of course, wasn't finished. "I have faith in the two people I love most. It's only been one day. You'll still rule Erebor together and I'll never have to lift a sword or anything else ever again because of my esteemed position as brother and nephew."
Fili thumped Kili on the back of the head but smirked into the darkness. He pulled the blanket up around them, entwined his fingers with Kili's over his chest, then closed his eyes again.
He believed what he said. He had no entitlement to Thorin. Not all those who found their One had their feelings returned. It wouldn't be the first time fate was cruelly mistaken.
The taste of Thorin on his lips, the touch of his strong fingers on Fili's body, the sparkle of adoration in his blue eyes—the depths of which Fili would have been happy to drown in—would remain with Fili for his lifetime, and if need be, he could use the memories to keep him company in his heartache.
Thorin paused only a few feet away from where his nephews lay huddled together in a lonely corner of the hobbit house. As always there was peace in their slack faces and smooth skin as they lay together. He often envied the closeness they shared, even in slumber.
Fili lay curled on his back with Kili's head tight against his shoulder. One of Kili's arms was wrapped loosely around Fili's waist, their fingers twisted together over Fili's heart. A mixture of light and dark hair clung to both their faces and it looked as if Kili had—once again—won the battle for the majority of the blankets.
His nephews were far beyond the age of sleeping together but it seemed so natural that Thorin couldn't imagine them any other way. Of course, that had been before Fili had assaulted him with gentle words and a heart as big as the Lonely Mountain in Ered Luin, and before a single kiss had opened his heart wide.
Thorin had viewed his nephews almost as a single being for as long as they'd been alive. It had been and still was rare to see one without the other. He'd accepted their similarities and differences as they grew, but thinking of one without the other was something he had never surmised, and he'd always doted on them as if he had some great claim to bringing them into the world. In some ways he supposed he did since he'd been the only father figure in their lives for so many years.
He'd seen them born, seen them tumble and giggle with their first steps and first falls, seen them grow closer and closer until the world around them didn't matter, didn't exist. He'd never admitted it outright, but they were his pride and joy, the proudest moments in his life. And now, Fili… Thorin bowed his head and turned back from whence he came.
Never in his wildest dreams would he have ever thought he would view one of his nephews differently from the other. They both had their excellent qualities and their admitted faults. As did any dwarf he'd ever known, and Thorin was certainly no exception to the rule.
The very realization that his feelings had changed for one of them was an arrow pointed directly to one of the flaws of his character or maybe a fallacy of his heart. The fact he'd admitted those emotions, even acted on them, made him wonder if he were truly meant or fit to be king of anyone or anything. But he'd had no regrets...at least until he'd walked into Bag End and seen Fili gaze at him with all the love he felt within his own heart.
He'd never allowed himself the comfort of regrets because he'd been convinced what had happened during his time—a time that seemed more than two lifetimes ago—with Fili would remain there; feelings, joy, love. He'd obviously attempted to disillusion himself and it had worked for the several months he'd not seen Fili or allowed himself to feel him in his heart…in his very soul.
Fili wasn't Thorin's One…couldn't be his One…because it made no sense. There was no rhyme or reason to such a coupling, such a pairing of souls, and despite the aching of his heart, Thorin just could not wrap his head around the whole idea. He loved Fili, but if the fates had intended them to be together in such a way, would Thorin's mind not agree with his heart?
It was true that not everyone felt the immeasurable pull of their soulmate, and since Thorin had known and loved Fili for the entirety of his nephew's young life, perhaps he just didn't understand what he was meant to be feeling. Fili, of course, had proclaimed Thorin to be the only one in his heart, the only one who had ever been, the only one who ever would be.
It hadn't been an easy confession for Fili, his fears clearly displayed on his face the first time he'd come to Thorin with his emotions laid bare almost a year ago. Thorin had been proud, prouder than he could ever remember, but also terrified of the meaning behind Fili's words. He'd wanted to swallow them up, keep them safe inside himself where no one could harm or threaten them.
He worried about the possibility of someone using Fili's sentiments against him because of who he was…because of who he loved and who loved him. Thorin feared being the heir apparent was enough of a target for those who muddied the waters of discourse in the dwarf community. But having the additional stigma of being the king's beloved had to add so much more to the pot for the vengeful and greedy. He couldn't put Fili in that position, wouldn't put him there for all the gold in the Misty Mountains.
He also firmly believed Fili could be misguided in his affections. Was it not possible his feelings for Thorin were simply tangled up with his search for his true love, just as Thorin was unsure how finding his iOne/i would—should—feel? Fili needed the chance to find that perfect, devoted, inspired love he so deserved, and Thorin didn't believe he was the true, all-encompassing entity Fili needed to feel complete.
He'd been cocky in thinking he could simply resume their former relationship of nephew and uncle once they'd begun the quest, so certain that he hadn't devised any sort of plan to fall back on. The months spent with Fili in his arms, in his bed, in his heart swirled ferociously in his head as soon as he'd seen Fili at Bag End, that first simple kiss Fili had bestowed on him suddenly fresh on his lips.
It had been on the tip of his tongue to praise Fili for wrangling the dwarves when the table had erupted in accusatory voices and questions of loyalty. Fill had spoken well, choosing just the right words and emotions to garner the attention of all those present…and Thorin's heart had swelled with pride. Fili had shown that he did have the presence of mind to lead when he allowed himself to step out of the shadows. And if ever there had been a time for Thorin to tell him he was proud of him, he respected him, he loved him that would have been it.
But the sentiments Thorin had wished to express got lost in the hollow fears of his mind so rather than telling his nephew he'd done well, Thorin had shoved away any and all of his emotions. In retrospect, he'd shut down his very heart in order to ignore Fili's presence—in order to deny the fact Fili had him tied up in intricate, unyielding knots.
To treat Fili in such a way had pained Thorin more than he'd ever believed it could. He'd thought he had successfully convinced himself that reverting to his usual relationship with Fili would supply him with no complications. It would be simple, satisfactory, necessary and normal. He'd told himself the push and pull of his heart could be easily remedied with a strong disposition and mountains of denial. Instead he'd felt loneliness and heartache that struck him deaf, dumb and blind inside, that had made his fingers tremble, his feet stumble, and his belly clench with longing.
He was aware that his words to Balin had been cruel and untrue, just as he'd known Fili had been close enough to hear them. He wasn't entirely sure how he knew, just that it had been a definitive feeling in his gut, a true awareness of Fili's nearness. Then to add insult to injury, he'd stepped away from what had obviously been Fili's attempt at some sort of contact to soothe his wounded feelings. The look on Fili's face had punctured Thorin's own heart and stolen the very breath from him when he'd forced himself to walk away.
Kili was always considered the one who wore his emotions like an ill-fitting piece of armor, while Fili was known as the quiet, strong but gentle, shield that protected his brother from the harshness of reality. But tonight Thorin had taken the entirety of Fili's shield, sent it tumbling to the stone floor where it shattered into a million pieces, and entwined in those pieces had been Thorin's own heart. The same heart many believed only beat for gold and redemption and Erebor, the same one others didn't believe he possessed at all.
Fili's confession had proved the disbelievers wrong, had shown Thorin that he did indeed have a heart and it beat and ached for his nephew. His own pronouncement of love had surprised even him, had shaken him to the very core when the words reached his own ears, but he'd denied nothing…then.
Now, however, it was up to him to gather the broken pieces of his heart. He needed to reassemble those shards then shove his badly repaired heart, and any and all of the sweeping emotions that came with it, back into the lonely cavern of his chest where it was comfortable and safe. He needed to put it back so it could do no more damage, so it—so he—couldn't hurt Fili again.
