Chapter One
Fíli Oakenshield was the nephew of Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror. He was brother to Kíli and son to Dís, although he hardly knew his father. He was a strong, brave warrior and a caring friend to all lucky enough to call him so. He was intelligent, brave, cunning, ambitious, quick, skillful, and humorous. If Fíli Oakenshield was all of this, why couldn't he gather his courage enough to stand up to his uncle and say ENOUGH!?
After 82 years of being a prince and 77 years of being an older brother, he should be responsible enough to watch over Kíli and protect him from all of the harm in the world. He should be able to tell the trainers and his judgmental uncle that although 77 years of age, Kíli did not need to be pushed so hard for perfection. He didn't know why all of a sudden his uncle was so insistent they be perfect sword fighters, but he could only accept that something big must be approaching that they must be ready for.
Still, was five long hours of practice with minimal breaks not enough? Dwalin would never push so hard for so long under normal circumstances. However, when Thorin decided to come observe the brothers, he did not accept any reasonable conditions, by Fíli's standards. He himself had practiced for three of those five hours with his brother under Dwalin's supervision, simply sparring with extreme pointers from Thorin. However, when Dwalin announced the class over, Thorin stood and commanded no one leave the arena. He ordered they continue sparring until they could do so no more. Fíli readily took up his stance, eager to impress his uncle. Kíli was already looking a bit worse for the wear, already exhausted from the two hours prior. They sparred for an hour, which tired them out awfully. Kíli look as though he was about to collapse. Thorin announced they would take a break, but when they began again, Fíli was ordered to stay seated as Dwalin sparred Kíli a while.
A he sat on the sidelines, watching his brother intently. He immediately realized why Thorin had Kíli continue. His form was sloppy and his movements were weak. He would need to learn to save his energy in the future. Although they were only sparring, Dwalin made a nasty mark on the side of Kíli's left knee, causing him to grimace and fall down. Fíli was up in a second, but Thorin held him down, rising to his own feet in front of his nephew. Kíli looked up at him through a pained expression, but quickly masked it as he stood up to face his uncle. He leaned heavily on his sword.
"You must learn to save your energy. Fight until the last breath. You cannot give up so easily," his uncle spoke quickly in Khuzdul, and Kíli nodded. Maybe the torture was finally over and he could rest.
"You will fight me now."
Kíli gasped at the order as his brother sprang to his feet. He spouted argument after argument about how unfair it was as Kíli was tired and injured and Thorin was fully rested.
"Against a thousand orcish troops one will need more than a few hours of energy, especially as the ranks against them bring fourth new opponents. He will fight me."
That is how Fíli ended up here, on the sidelines in the fifth hour of 'practice' wondering when his mother would arrive to scold Thorin for keeping them past dinner.
Five hours of solid swordplay is not how Kíli would've liked to spend his time. He'd much rather spend five hours on the archery range or at the pub with Bofur drinking away the long practice of the day. Alas, here he was with a sword in his hand instead of a bow or a pint, and a roaring pain in his left knee where it had been struck earlier. He was defending himself against his uncle fairly well, but he could feel his arms aching for him to stop, and he often messed up his footing and nearly plummeting to the ground. As much as he tried, he couldn't take the offensive position against Thorin, and he fully understood the fear every one of his opponents felt as his uncle threw everything he had at him with no sign of slowing down.
Fíli could obviously see his brother struggling, but he couldn't bring himself to say it to his uncle out of fear his punishment would be the same. Selfish bastard, he thought to himself, but he knew his still-tired legs wouldn't allow him to succumb to the same fate, as much as it hurt him to see his brother that way.
Everything went wrong when Kíli stepped on a pebble.
No one saw it, of course, it was the smallest of rocks, but when a 77 year old exhausted dwarf puts his full, shaking weight on it, it'll slip, and that it did. Kíli crashed to the ground, weapon clattering away beyond his reach, uncle attacking like he was the wretched dragon Smaug, he did all he could think of doing. He threw his arms up to prevent any further harm.
Thorin saw it coming, but Fíli didn't, which was plainly obvious as his cry for his brother pierced the air. Orcrist came flying at his baby brother at an astonishing speed; it was incredible that Thorin had the ability to stop it right before it hit Kíli's arms. Both brothers let out the breath neither realized they had been holding. Thorin sheathed his sword and began walking back over to where Dwalin had been watching. Kíli sat with his arms still up, hardly relaxing, taking deep breaths in the middle of the arena floor as his brother raced toward him at a record-setting speed. He used his own arms to put Kíli's down and then embrace him as he trembled on the floor, pale and breathless. Oh, why had Fíli not spoken up?
Thorin turned back to look at his nephews. A surge of pride swept through his veins at the sight of the older one being so caring and compassionate to his brother, as well as guilt for being the cause of such an embrace. He knew he shouldn't have pushed Kíli so hard, he just had to see how much he could take. Fíli was a fine warrior; however, his foolish younger sibling needed a lot of lessons in growing up. He hoped they received the message.
The only messages Kíli received were 'Fight harder or die' and 'Fíli doesn't care enough to help you'. Thorin's relentless attacks only meant that he needed to be stronger in order to survive, and his brother didn't call out or defend him once? He obviously thought he deserved it. This reaction from his brother was obviously just an attempt to cover it up. Well if Kíli was anything besides exhausted and weak, it was angry, and he felt he had two pretty big reasons for feeling that way.
_.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._
Dís was on the verge of running down to the arena herself to check on her children and brother after they didn't come home after practice. She was even pulling her boots on when they came smashing through the door. She immediately noticed three things.
1: Thorin was exhausted. He had obviously trained today, like the boys. He couldn't be tired from the journey as it didn't require enough effort to make him break a sweat.
2: Fíli has that face on. The 'my brother is in trouble and it's all my fault' face. He has it on a lot.
3: Kíli, leaning heavily on Fíli's shoulder, was pale, exhausted, and had that face on. The 'my entire family is full of idiots, that's the only reason I'm in trouble' face.
Weighing the situation quickly, she immediately identified the most important matter and swooped in to help Fíli basically carry her youngest son inside the house to the brothers' shared bedroom. Despite his protests, she locked him up in there until dinner was ready so he could rest. Just as she was certain he was going to stay in bed she shut the door behind her until she heard the little 'click'. Satisfied, she returned to the dining room where Fíli set up the dinner table and Thorin sat with him pipe in his usual seat. Dís quickly noticed how their eyes weren't meeting and her son looked as though he was about to explode. She cleared her throat and they both looked up.
"Sit," she commanded. Fíli obliged quickly and she herself joined them.
"What exactly happened today and why is my family so late for dinner?"
When both started talking at once, she held up a hand. The silenced themselves immediately. When Dís got serious, she got serious.
"Go, Thorin." She pointed in his direction, then folded her hands expectantly, that little glare of 'if you touch my sons I will hurt you in ways you could never imagine' flickering across her face.
"Well," Thorin ran a hand through him hair as he let out a sigh. "Honestly, Dís, it was just training. It went a bit long. I wanted to see how long they could continue. You've got some strong lads, there."
Fíli slammed his hands down on the table and stood up suddenly.
"That's a lie! You let me stop so early! Why did you force him to keep going! Could you not see the struggle he put forward just to impress you?"
"I saw, and I was not impressed. You have the energy, the heart and soul of a warrior. He needs to learn how to enter the stage of his life where he will need to know how to defend himself and his kingdom. You're ready, Fíli. You're a King!"
"Is he not as well? Is he second in everything? The throne, sparring matches, your affection? Can't you see all he wants is someone to care enough about him to convince him he's worth something?"
"Do not make this entirely my fault. You cannot expect your brother to gain the same respect as you with his foolish pranks and pathetic attempts at matching you? You are going to be a great king, Fíli. Your brother will just have to wait."
"Would the lot of you just SHUT UP?"
All traces of argument disappeared completely as attention was drawn to the form standing in the doorframe with a pale but wide awake face sporting an expression of such horror it was almost unbearable. Thorin and Fíli exchanged frantic glances. Had he heard? Their unasked question was answered.
"Foolish? Pathetic? Fine uncle, I always knew you felt something like that, but Fíli?"
"Kíli I never-"
"I heard you. I heard all of it. I get it. I will never come first in anything! Always second to Fíli. 'Wow, Fíli, you're a great swordsman. You nearly cut your brother in half!' 'Fantastic shot with the bow, Fíli! It doesn't matter that you missed by three lengths and your brother hit the center every time, you're clearly superior in every way.' "Hey look! It's Fíli's brother! He must be an incredible fighter! Why don't we all gang up on him at once!? I mean, he's used to being beaten, Fíli wins at everything!' You don't think I hear all of that?"
The older brother was struck speechless suddenly, so hard he physically had to take a step back. Never in all his years of protecting his brother had he realized what he had done to him.
"Now, Kíli," Dís, silent until now, warned.
"No, shut up! Would all of you just go show favoritism towards him somewhere else? I'm sick of this! I'm sick of all of you! Just stay the hell away from me!" Quick as a flash, the younger brother turned on his heels, grabbed his bow, quiver full of arrows, and sword that were waiting at the entryway, and exited the house, running as fast as he possibly could until he reached the forest. There was no sign of Fíli, Thorin, Dís, or anyone searching for him.
"Good." He huffed. "I don't want to be found." The trail he had mostly followed to reach that point disappeared in this area of the woods. Kíli took a deep breath and dove in.
"Need to grow up, huh? I'll show them."
_.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._
Fíli began to follow him, but Thorin's firm hand held him back. A quick glance into the guilty eyes of the King of Erebor was enough to stop him in his tracks.
"Fíli, please, give him a chance to cool off. He's just gotten a lot off his chest and there's nothing we can say to convince him to stay right now. Give him the night. If he hasn't returned by morning we'll go out looking for him. I doubt he will go as far as the forest. He knows better than to trek too far out there at night."
Fíli nodded, fear for his brother practically blinding him as a panicky ringing in his ears deafened him. He was useless like this. He needed to calm down, for Kíli.
Oh Mahal, if anything happened to him…
