AN: Okay, so I'm probably the only one. But while watching Frozen, I couldn't help but think about how much Elsa and Anna reminded me of Fíli and Kíli. I mean, think about it- they're both royalty. Elsa's the older, responsible sibling, heir to the throne, with a deep sense of responsibility and loyalty. And Anna's the young, bright, cheery sibling who's loving, reckless and daring. Why couldn't this crossover work?
Just a quick note- this won't follow the exact plot of Frozen, and it's hardly the plot of The Hobbit at all save for the characters- heck, they aren't even dwarves here. And there isn't any singing- as much as we'd all like to see Dean O'Gorman singing his heart out while dancing around an ice palace, that's not going on here. I'd also like to take a moment to formally apologize for what I've done to Smaug and Bilbo here- I just…. Bah, I needed a Hans and Smaug was the big bad, and Bilbo's tiny, so I thought, hey, snowhobbit- I'm sorry.
I really shouldn't do this. I really shouldn't. I'm rewriting one of my older Hobbit stories as we speak, and my Les Mis one is still an absolute mess with all my re-writing. So why am I starting this?
Hell, I don't know. But I can't stop myself now, so here we go, I guess.
From the moment Fíli, son of Víli and Dís, was born, he was the heir to the throne of Erebor. His uncle, Thorin Oakenshield, King Under The Mountain, had made it clear that he never planned to have any children, and so Fíli was officially named heir the day of his birth. The child, of course, did not know of the great responsibility, and he would not until he was much older. For that short time, he was free to simply be an average child.
He was a strange infant, however, and it was odd to ever think of the small child as ever being King of Erebor. He was always pale, with almost translucent skin and hair so light that it could almost be called white. This was especially unusual, given that both his mother and uncle were dark of coloring and his father, while blond, was a tanned miner with a darker shade of hair far darker than his young son's. To add to that, Fíli always seemed to be cold- almost unnervingly so. His skin was constantly freezing, and although it worried his mother to no end he did not seem to be bothered by it in the slightest.
Aside from those slight quirks, however, Fíli was a fairly normal child- he rarely cried, ate anything that was put in front of him, and seemed to truly listen when you spoke to him. He was clearly intelligent and his blue eyes held wiseness far beyond his young age. This, Thorin proclaimed, was what would one day make Fíli a great king, not the quirks of his appearance; and that was exactly what he informed anyone who dare to ask.
Even so, the entire kingdom seemed relieved when two years after Fíli's birth, another child was born. This child bore the coloring of his mother and uncle and the dark eyes of his father; he was quite clearly of the line of Durin. This child was named Kíli, and together the two princes grew.
The two children were practically complete opposites- in fact, their mother would often liken them to ice and fire. For while Fíli was solemn, responsible and cold to those outside of his close circle of family and friends, Kíli was brash and bright, never able to hold still, and warm to all. Still the two were nearly inseparable as they grew- it really was quite remarkable how close they were. When one had a thought, it was always shared by the other, and they seemed bound at the hip.
But as they grew, it became more and more evident that there was something not right with Fíli.
It had started when he was less than a year old. Dís had just given him a little bowl of water to play with while she sewed, and she had turned her back for a moment- just a moment- only to see the tiny portion of water covered by a thin sheet of ice.
This began happening more and more frequently, and by the time he was nearly two years old Fíli was able to freeze an entire glass of water completely solid. And he was learning how to do so much more.
"Ignore it," advised Óin, the royal healer, who in reality had never seen anything like Fíli's powers in all of his many years. And so they did. They ignored the child's magic in the hopes that it would go away on its own. But it didn't. And it just kept growing.
Kíli, of course, was not oblivious to his brother's powers. In fact, they quickly became one of his favorite things, and he soon loved nothing more than playing with "the magic snow" that Fíli could create using his hands.
It wasn't rare for Víli and Dís to be woken by shouts and laughter from the ballroom, and to find it filled with snow, ice and two delighted little boys. Fíli's powers were expanding at an alarming rate, and each time he and Kíli played with the ice magic his powers only seemed to grow stronger.
"You must stop this," Thorin would tell the child firmly, grasping his two ice cold hands in his own rough, warm ones. "You must refrain from using your powers, you must."
"I try," Fíli would reply, "I really do! But I can't stop it, uncle- it's always pouring out of me, it always wants to be let out. I can't keep from using it, I just can't!"
"You have to," Thorin would insist. "You've got to control it, you've got to keep it hidden."
"You've got to try, Fíli," his mother would add from where she sat next to his uncle. "I know it's hard, but you have to. You have to be a good boy for mummy, alright? You can't let it out."
"Do you understand us, Fíli?" Thorin would ask finally, his eyes stern.
Fíli would nod his little head solemnly, and Thorin would smile at him, and his mother would envelop him in a tight, warm hug. "There's my good boy," she would whisper softly in his ear. "There's my good, good boy."
And Fíli would try to be a good boy. He really, really would. But there were some days where he felt that he was almost ready to burst with the energy, with the power he could heel flowing through his veins, and he wouldn't be able to hold it back. With a few waves of his hands, he would feel almost instant relief of the pressure of keeping his magic inside, and his entire room would be covered in ice.
"What can we do?" Víli would whisper to Thorin, and he would simply shake his head.
"There is nothing we can do," he would reply. "The boy will learn, in time. Until then, he is not a danger to anyone, so all we can really do is help him control it, help him keep it hidden."
Thorin's words were rarely proved false, but in this particular case, they were- and in the worst way possible.
Fíli was six and Kíli was four. The two could never sleep in separate beds- they always slept together, their arms curled around each other tightly. Kíli had learned to withstand the cold- the warmth of his brother's touch did nothing for Fíli.
On this night, the northern lights shone high in the sky, and while Fíli soundly slumbered, Kíli found that he simply couldn't sleep. Try as he might, turning in bed, hugging his pillow, even sleeping upside down- nothing seemed to help. Finally, he pulled himself out of bed and went to the window, where he pulled himself up to sit on the window ledge and stared up at the sky.
The night was alive in a mixture of a dozen colours; reds and blues and greens all blended together in different shades and tones, and seemed to swim and waver in the sky. The bright lights reflected back onto Kíli's face, and the little boy's eyes lit up with awe.
He couldn't tell how long he sat there- he felt it to be hours, but in reality it really could only have been five minutes or so. Finally, he dropped down from the ledge and ran over to the bed he and his brother shared, swinging one leg up and pulling himself up on his brother's side.
"Fíli- psst!"
There was no response from his sleeping brother, so Kíli rolled onto the lump in the blankets that was his brother's sleeping from. "Fíli!" He began to shake the other boy upon receiving no answer, bouncing up and down on his knees and causing his brother's body to bounce. "Fíli! Wake up, wake up, wake up!"
Fíli finally groaned, looking up at him groggily. "Kíli," he sighed, a small smile on his still half-slumbering face, "go back to sleep."
Kíli sighed in exasperation. "I just can't!" He moaned, draping himself over his brother's body dramatically and staring up at the ceiling with his wide brown eyes. "The sky's awake, so I'm awake." When Fíli didn't reply, Kíli brought both hands up to his head. "So we have to play!"
"Go play by yourself!" Fíli exclaimed, and with one swift push he had knocked his younger brother off of him and onto the ground.
Kíli frowned, staring at the ground for a moment. He had to get Fíli to play- he just had to. But how could he coax him out of bed?
Suddenly, the four year olds face lit up with inspiration, as he got an idea.
Springing back up to the bed and clambering on top of his brother again, he pulled open one of his brother's eyes and leaned down to whisper in his ear- "Do you want to build a snow-hobbit?"
At last, Fíli opened both eyes, and his face split into a grin.
Victory.
The two children raced down the hall, Fíli leading his younger brother by the hand. Kíli was bouncing up and down, pleading with his brother to hurry, but Fíli swiftly shushed him. "Quiet, you dolt!" He exclaimed. "Do you want mother or father to hear? I'm not supposed to use my powers, remember?"
Kíli immediately solemned. "Oh. Yeah." He frowned, looking up at his brother. "We can still play though, right?"
Fíli considered this for a moment, before nodding affirmatively, and Kíli immediately recommenced his bouncing. "Let's go, let's go, let's go!"
Somehow, the boys managed to sneak into the ballroom without getting caught by and of the servants around the castle. Once the door was firmly shut, the two brothers exchanged excited looks.
"Do the magic! Do the magic!" Kíli exclaimed, and Fíli grinned. These nights, these times he'd spend with Kíli, those were the few times when he was able to feel free, and he relished it.
He laughed at the excitement on his little brother's face, and theatrically waved his hands together. Almost immediately, snowflakes burst forth, materializing out of thin air, and danced between his palms. With little to no effort, Fíli managed to form a snowball. He looked down once more at Kíli's gleeful little face, and tossed the snowball high into the air. Snow burst out, spreading across the ceiling, and began to fall in light flurries around the room. Kíli shrieked in delight and began to dance around the room, catching snowflakes on his tongue and in his hands.
"More! More!" he cried excitedly, and Fíli's grin grew even wider.
"Watch this!" he called, and Kíli's dark head turned to him. With a stomp of his foot, the entire floor of the ballroom was suddenly transformed into a gigantic ice rink. Kíli shrieked with laughter as he slid off, gliding around the room with ease despite his bare feet.
They played that way for hours- Fíli flinging ice magic around the room, and Kíli delighting in every second. They did, in fact, build a snow-hobbit- a tiny, round man with scraggly snow hair and large feet. "What should we name it?" Fíli asked aas the two children stepped back to admire their creation proudly.
Kíli stared at it hard, tilting his head. "Bilbo," he said at last. "I like that name. Bilbo Baggins."
"Bilbo Baggins!" Fíli exclaimed. "Where on earth did you get that name."
"I made it up," Kíli shrugged. "His name is Bilbo Baggins and he likes-"
"Adventures!" Fíli exclaimed, and the two dissolved into giggles, because everyone knew that hobbits hated adventures.
The real disaster came when Kíli leapt out of a giant snowdrift that his brother had conjured in the middle of the room. "Catch me!" He exclaimed, and Fíli sent another snow mountain under his feet for him to land on. This he jumped off, too, and they quickly made a game of Kíli leaping from snowdrifts into the air, only to land on another.
But he was going too fast. Kíli kept going faster and faster, laughing more and more with each soft landing, and Fíli was beginning to struggle to keep up. "Wait- slow down!" He exclaimed, but Kíli either didn't hear him or simply chose not to heed his brother, as he leapt faster and faster, higher and higher- and suddenly, Fíli slipped.
He fell back, landing hard against the ice with a gasp. He turned his head slightly, only to see his little brother sailing through the air. "Kíli!" Fíli's eyes widened as he realized that his brother was about to land on solid ice. He sent a desperate blast of ice magic towards the airborne child, aiming to land right under his feet- but he missed, and the blast connected with the four year old's head, instead.
The little boy barely had time to gasp before he was unconscious, and he fell to the snow, landing hard and not moving. Fíli's eyes widened as he stared at his little brother, and over his ragged gasps he could hear voices in his head- his uncle, his mother, his father, Kíli, even himself.
Dangerous. Be mummy's good boy. Keep it hidden. Catch me! Let's play. Hidden. Good boy. Hidden. Try. You must. You must. Dangerous. Your fault. Your fault.
"No," Fíli wept, crawling over to his brother's still form. "No!" He picked up his brother, resting his small head in his lap. "Kíli," he moaned, cradling the tiny boy in his arms before drawing back in shock. A small white streak the same color as Fíli's hair, even lighter, appeared in Kíli's own dark hair, running through the strands and rapidly approaching Fíli's own hand, entwined in his little brother's hair. He pulled back in horror, and sharp cries tore from his throat.
"Mummy!" he shouted, cradling Kíli even tighter. "Mum, Dad, Uncle Thorin- help! Help! Mum!"
And he could feel it- his power leaking out of him, spreading across the ground, ruining all the fun that he and Kíli had had that night. He wasn't sorry. He didn't want to see any of that anymore, he didn't want to look at that snow-hobbit- they all seemed almost wicked now, in light of what he had just done to his brother. But it did scare him, it scared him terribly; because, as the ice spread up the walls and on to the ceiling, he realized that that was the first time he had ever lost control like that. But, honestly- he couldn't care about that right now.
"You're okay, Kee," he wept in his brother's ear, trying his hardest not to look at the white streak in Kíli's hair- the mark of his magic, the mark which he had caused. "I got you."
Suddenly the door to the ballroom was flung open, and Fíli looked up to see his mother, father and his uncle standing in the doorway. Seeing her little boy lying limply in his brother's arms, their mother gasped in horror. Thorin raced forward, followed closely by Fíli and Kíli's parents. "Fíli, what have you done?" Thorin exclaimed. "This is getting out of hand!"
"It- it was an accident, I didn't mean too, I- I'm sorry, Kíli," he finished with a whisper, pressing his forehead to his brother's, which, he now felt with horror, was just as cold as his.
His mother scooped Kíli up into her arms, cradling him. "He's ice cold!" She exclaimed, horror evident in her eyes, and Fíli's father wrapped his arms around his wife's shoulders.
"We need help!" He exclaimed, pressing a hand to his child's forehead. "Can anyone help us?"
Thorin regarded Fíli, who still sat on the ground, gravely. Fíli shrunk back under his uncle's intense gaze. Finally, Thorin turned back to his sister and her husband. "Call Oin. Quickly."
But Óin, of course, was unale to help, and he emerged from the child's room half aan hour later shaking his head sadly. "There is only one place I know of where the child may find help, he said to his king solemnly.
"Well?" Thorin demanded, face set in a stern mask to conceal the sharp pangs of grief he felt whenever he looked towards the door of his nephews' room. "Go on. Tell us!"
"Thorin," Óin said slowly, addressing the other man not as his king, but as his cousin and longtime friend. "It is not something you would like."
Dís's head shot up, instantly recognizing the meaning behind Oin's words, her eyes wide in shock. "Thorin- no."
Thorin's gaze darkened. "You suggest we seek help from the elves? Place the life of my nephew- my kin- in the hands of those who so easily betrayed us so many years ago?"
"We may not have any other choice," Óin sighed. "If the boy is to live, the elves may be our only hope. The medicine of the elves far surpasses any other, even, I must say, our own."
"But seek help from the elves?" Dís cried, her hands tightly clutching the firm arm of her husband. "Surely it cannot be the only way."
Víli looked back and forth from his wife to his brother-in-law and back to the healer. "For the life of my son," he said, his dark eyes so much like Kili's own shining intently, "I would place aside all prejudices. If the elves can save him, I say we go to them."
"Do we even know they'll help us?" Dís inquired quietly, and Thorin's gaze darkened.
"They will help us," he replied icily. "They will give us aid or so help me, I will have the Elvenking's head on a plate! They will help us!"
Dís studied Óin intently, her face unreadable. "Do you truly believe that the elves can save my son?"
Óin simply nodded, and Dís's eyes hardened. "Then," she said, turning to her brother, "do it."
They rode to the elvenking's forest on horseback, and as they did magic continued to seep out of Fíli's hands, leaving a trail of ice in their wake. "Stop that," Thorin hissed, even tenser than usual at the prospect of asking the elves for aid.
Fíli shivered despite the fact that he could not feel cold. "I- I can't."