This is a companion piece to my story 'Do Not Speak to Me of Loss' which can be found on my profile - I don't think I can add a link or I would. I can't imagine it will work as a piece without knowing what's gone on in that one, it might do though if you really want to try - this chapter certainly will though it'll probably be quite OOC without the other bit.

If you have read it then FYI the events in this will be taking place between the second and final sections of 'Loss. The plan is that the final chapter of this will tie in with the final section of that.

A review would be lovely. x

I allowed Fili to lead me away from our Uncle; he had, as Fili said, looked to be in need of solitude - an increasingly rare luxury now that we were entering more hostile land. He did not however lead me back to the camp, rather he drew me away and towards the ponies. We watched them graze for a time, every so often leading one back when they strayed too far from the others. I waited, as patiently as I could bear, for Fili's lecture to begin - we shouldn't have made that joke, we were too old to be playing silly pranks on people like that, Thorin needed us to be more mature. And so on. He could lecture all he liked, had in fact begun to before heading out to speak with our Uncle, but I would not be swayed. The company needed somebody to keep their spirits up. As much as I loved our Uncle, he had grossly overeacted before (though I had the sense not to tell him that); if he had not, we could all have had a good laugh at how the silly little hobbit couldn't tell the difference between an orc and a wolf. Besides, Fili had joined in perfectly willingly until Thorin had said his piece. Yes, I looked forward to hearing how Fili condemned my actions without apportioning any of the blame to himself.

Still, Fili had not spoken. It was beginning to get unsettling - he didn't really intend a reprimand, did he? I leant against the tree trunk beside him, nudging his shoulder with my own when he still did not speak.

"Maybe we should ask Thorin to turn back."

I stared at my brother, aghast and floundering for a minute. Turn back? This was our chance – our first real adventure – we would go down in history for our parts in this. Parents would tell stories about this quest for generations; would whisper our names over their children's slumber in the hope they might grow to be like us. And he wanted to turn back? No! What was he thinking?!

"WHY?!"

Fili hesitated, gazing off in the direction we had come though I had the impression he did not see.

"Fili, why?" I didn't intend it to, but it may have come out as a bit of a whine. But no matter, my brother was being ridiculous. He couldn't do this to me. If Thorin allowed him to turn back then he would send me too and I needed this. Fili had already earned his second and third braids albeit only in the past year or so but still – this was my chance even if it wasn't his.

"We…we don't belong here any more than a hobbit," he said at last, "We're a disappointment to him."

"To Thorin?" I asked though I did not need to, Fili's eyes continuously wandered in the direction of our uncle. "No. No, we're not." Shaking my head, I sat staring at my brother, trying to puzzle him out as I normally did. "Fili, he wants us here," I told him determinedly. "He does. Earlier on, it was…it was a misunderstanding! But…we apologised – it's over with now." I swallowed, suddenly afraid – was it over with? Something was wrong between my brother and Uncle but surely it was nothing worth this. Well aware that I sounded like a child, I added, "Uncle said so."

He made a strange, disbelieving sound, something like a laugh but…horrible. "A misunderstanding?" he mimicked, staring at me with what I suddenly realised was shame in his eyes, "What did he misunderstand, Kili? We mocked the deaths of – of hundreds of our own people!"

A cold guilt settled in the pit of my stomach and I shook my head again. Vehemently. "No," I told him, "No, Fili. That wasn't what we did! We – " I broke off, horrified. Had we? Was that how our uncle had seen it? "It was just a joke, and he forgave us." I finished weakly.

He gave the same not-quite-laugh again, rubbing his hands across his face. "You're such a child sometimes."

Anger flared in me. I was a child? I was a child? "You didn't want to come in the first place!" I accused him, jumping to my feet and pacing. I had a funny, clenching feeling deep inside that I was missing the real issue but how dare he?! "When Thorin came, you hesitated! YOU wanted to stay at home and play in your precious forge – it was me who answered him! When Thorin came – "

"He only came for me, Kili."

I stopped. For a moment, we simply stared at each other, meeting each other's gaze unfalteringly. I laughed. "What?"

"When…" Fili looked away and I got the impression he was planning his words carefully as usual – don't cause offence, think before you speak, wrap it up in pretty words until it can't hurt anyone because they don't know what you're saying! What had he meant 'he only came for me'? Thorin had asked for us both – as his nephews, we were both entitled to our place in his company, a piece of the glory. Why would my brother say such a thing?

"Fili, what do you mean?"

"He said…that you were too young, that you weren't ready."

I had often felt as though someone – usually when caught in mischief by my Mother or Uncle – had pulled the rug from under me, as it were, but never before had I felt so entirely humiliated, furious and devastated as I did then. Not ready? Thorin had trained us all our lives for the day when our chance to reclaim Erebor came – how could he have judged me to be unfit where my brother was not? I should have felt even more determined to prove myself to them all but if Thorin, and my brother, who knew my capabilities and my soul – better even than my own Mother – thought me somehow…wanting, then how could I continue? I suddenly felt entirely useless. I was…a liability. "But," I began helplessly, "I'm of age."

"By all of seven years, Brother."

"It's enough!"

"No, it's NOT!" Fili was suddenly on his feet too, fists clenched at his sides. I took up my own stance. We did not often come to blows, my brother and I, but when we did I was fiercely determined to better him. I was taller than he was and moved quicker but he had bulk and brute strength from the forges on his side. He paused, frowning at me in surprise and I belatedly realised he had not in fact intended an assault. He suddenly looked me up and down as if sizing me up, an oddly melancholy look in his eyes.

"Fili?" I asked uncertainly. I had been wrong-footed by his sudden change in demeanour; angry, I could manage – violent, even – but this was something strange. He looked almost fearful. It was the same look, I realised, as he had worn when I came across him and our Uncle earlier in the evening before we had reconciled with him.

"Defend yourself," he said, so softly I almost missed it.

I stepped backwards, eyes narrowed. How in Durin's name had our peaceful night of watching ponies had suddenly descended into this?

"Kili," he said louder, drawing one of his hunting knives, "Defend yourself!"

I was transfixed; staring, horrified at the blade, I continued to back away. We had sparred before of course, we had and, as I said, we had fought, as brothers do. But this? I was unarmed but for my bow – I could not defend myself properly with no weapon! I began to tell him so but suddenly, he rushed at me knocking me to the ground with his shoulder in my stomach.

I pushed at him, scrabbling for a grip on his clothes or hair with which to drag him off me, trying to knee him in the stomach – anything to at least give pause to this madness. And all the while, he kept up a constant litany of stern rebukes as I failed again and again to stop him – 'Come on! Defend yourself, Brother!' and 'Kili! You can do better than this!' – never once raising his voice or crying out when my strikes made their targets. In response, I writhed and kicked, pushed at him, grabbed at his knife, occasionally replying with equally quiet sounds of well…distress.

"This isn't fair!" I heard myself gasp out at one point, cringing at my own childishness. "Fili! I'm unarmed!"

"That shouldn't matter – fight back!" He demanded, shaking me roughly. Fight back? Was he mad? It was all I could do to defend myself let alone launch a counter-attack. It was taking all my strength as it was to hold his arms away from me, to stop him driving down at me with his sharp knife.

One of the ponies whinnied and we both looked up, stilling our fighting and glancing around. All seemed well – I could see my brother counting them up before glancing down at me. Our eyes met, a momentary truce then.

Never let it be said that the House of Durin does not resort to underhanded tactics to win fights. The way I see it, you do what you have to in order to win and principles be damned. Besides, I had hardly been expecting my brother to come at me with a knife. He scanned the ponies again and I seized my chance. I brought my knees up and kicked him hard with both legs sending him sprawling away from me with a satisfying 'oof!'. I grabbed the knife from where he had dropped it in his surprise and held it out in front of me. He glanced warily at it before giving me a small smile.

"Come, little brother," he said breathlessly, standing up straight and gesturing for me to go at him, "Don't be afraid."

Afraid? I scowled, deeply affronted but he nodded pointedly at my arm. I risked a glance down. I was shaking, terrified. We had run this before in training of course, Uncle would never have allowed us to go without it but that had been so…safe compared to this. Here, there was no healer waiting off the field or Uncle waiting to declare our battle over with once one of us was 'killed' by a touch of the other's blade. I felt a sudden tightness in my throat and I shook my head, wide eyed.

"Kili, defend yourself." He repeated for the umpteenth time.

I had barely registered how ludicrous his words were – after all, I was the one holding the blade – before he charged at me once more. A few brief moments of scuffling, all caution thrown to the wind as I swung out at him and he in turn ducked and dived around me until he finally grabbed hold of my wrist and yanked it up behind my back, knocking my knees out from under me as he did so. I cried out.

"And now," he stated, sounding oddly furious, straddling me and leaning over where I lay breathlessly struggling on the earth, "I kill you." I glanced down my body and realised that he could indeed, quite easily, have slit me open then and there from my stomach to my shoulders and there would have been absolutely nothing I could have done about it.

To my horror, I felt my eyes filling. I was…scared. Of my brother, of all the dangers awaiting us out here and the sudden realisation that I may not be able to defend myself, let alone Fili or our companions. As if waking from a daze, he leapt off me, dropping to a nearby log and covering his face with his arms. I edged closer. He was shaking – worse than me even. I sniffed and wiped at my nose a couple of times before sitting down next to him.

"I understand," I assured him hesitantly, realisation dawning. He was afraid. Fili, my loyal, wonderful, embarrassingly-stronger-than-me big brother was afraid for me. Placing one hand on his arms, I pulled his arms away from his face – rather, he allowed me to do so – and ducked my head round to look into it. He smiled tremulously, reaching out one hand to my cheek. He looked a sight though I doubted I looked any better. If nothing else, my brother's braids were still mostly intact and that was a mercy for I did not fancy either of our chances at reforming them by fire light.

Abruptly, he turned to me properly, wrapping his arms around my stomach and tucking his head beneath my chin. On reflex, I wrapped my own arms about him; it was a strange reversal of our usual positions. "I'll try harder," I promised him, feeling him squeeze tighter in response. I bit my lip and reminded myself of the shame it would bring to not only us but to our entire family – Mother and Uncle anyway – if we were to return to The Blue Mountains so soon. "Fili, please don't make us turn back."

My brother went so still, it seemed he had stopped breathing. "If…if anything happens to you, I – "

"But it won't," I said easily, leaning back from him, "because you and Uncle will always be there." I wondered if I had imagined the way his face darkened at the mention of our uncle. "As you've always been," I added smiling in what I hoped was a reassuring way. It was my best impression of him, so I certainly hoped it looked reassuring.

He sat up straight, drawing several tremulous breaths. "Kili," he said eventually, "that might not always be enough."

Within me, I felt my adult half telling me that I knew that, that of course I might have to stand alone eventually but my other half, the childish, fearful part of me that I had tried to keep hidden from all but my brother and Uncle on this journey begged for reassurances and empty promises. "Yes, it will," I argued softly even as he shook his head.

"No, it – did you hear that?" Both of us stood, suddenly alert and staring around us, duty and concern for our companions preventing us from dwelling any further on the matter for now. "Kili," my brother murmured, pressing his knife back into my hand, "Be ready."

Presently, Mr Baggins came trotting through the undergrowth towards us and beside me, I felt Fili release a great sigh of relief. I found myself laughing, whoever heard of anyone – dwarf or man or any other creature- afraid of a hobbit? Fili shot me sheepish grin, though it was still far too shadowed for my liking.

"Hullo!" cried Mr Baggins as he approached us, peering closely at us no doubt wondering why I laughed, "Are you two erm, all right?"

"Why shouldn't we be?"

The hobbit looked slightly taken aback at Fili's abruptness. To be frank, it surprised me a little too for he had seemed quite fond of him (despite our ill-advised teasing earlier). "Well…I just thought, well, earlier on Thorin, he seemed erm," Mr Baggins stammered for a few seconds, rocking uneasily on his heels. I felt quite sorry for the chap. "He's a bit grouchy, isn't he?"

To say my brother's face darkened would be like saying that winter in Ered Luin can be a little chilly. "That's hardly any of your concern, is it?"

"Fili," I began uncertainly. Why was he being like this? I could not fathom what our unfortunate burglar could have done to inspire such uncharacteristic coldness and I told him so. I swear by my beard (such as it is), my brother grows more like our Uncle with each passing day. "He's always been like that, Bilbo," I explained as dismissively as I could with the memory of our Uncle's hurt still so fresh in my mind. Turning to my brother, I added, "Thorin carries a great many demons, doesn't he? Sometimes they get the better of him, that's all."

Fili frowned at me thoughtfully, as if he were trying to puzzle something out. "That's true," he murmured, nodding slightly. "I'm sorry, Bilbo – I shouldn't have snapped. Were you simply seeking our pleasant company," here, he grinned apologetically, "Or did you come with a message?"

Biblo looked between us, completely perplexed at my brother's change of mood. I was a little startled myself but it seemed genuine enough. "Bilbo?" I prompted when he did not speak.

"Oh! Right, yes," he said quickly, "Erm, Thorin says your watch is over and you're to come back now."

"Perhaps Thorin should tell us so himself," Fili muttered darkly.

"There now," I grinned proudly, trying to ignore the lurch in my stomach at Fili's tone, "He can't still be angry or we'd be on double watches."

"Righto, you're er, you're coming back then are you?"

I flashed Bilbo a smile and told him we'd be with him shortly. "And don't let Bombur eat all the food!" I called to his retreating back before turning back to my brother. I contemplated him whilst he counted and recounted the ponies, collected our various trappings and coats and generally avoided my gaze. It irked me.

"What's wrong, Fili?" I asked, sighing. I was done with being patient; everyone – particularly my brother – knows Fili is the good, patient one andI'm the stubborn, disrespectful one. That is the way of things.

"Nothing," he smiled, gesturing for me to 'lead on'.

I was so used to obeying – well, agreeing with – my brother that I had half turned to do so before stopping and throwing down my bow and quiver. I was not moving. Not until he told me what was wrong; I could be patient, I had had years of arguing with my brother, mother and Uncle and hoping that 'just this time' I would be able to wait them out. I drew myself up to my not-inconsiderable height, glaring down at my brother in what I hoped resembled our Uncle's stern stare.

"No," I said, folding my arms, "What's wrong?"

"Kili," Fili dragged out my name, a sure sign that he was getting tired of me. So be it, I had not exactly been thrilled with him when he attacked me. Twice.

"No!" I'm ashamed to say I stamped my foot. Actually, honestly, truly, stamped my foot like a little dwarfling not getting his way. I didn't care, I was angry. "Fili, I'm tired and I'm hungry, we've been lectured in front of the entire company, you have threatened to leave this quest, you have attacked me – twice – and you are clearly at odds with Thorin and I," I broke off, the chilling uneasiness I had felt when observing my brother and Uncle together seeping back in, "and I do not understand why."

If he told me it was not my concern, or that it did not matter again, I was going to swing for him. Again.

"If it's because you're worried, or because Uncle is worried or one of you truly wants us to leave," I began, hoping that the latter was not the case, "then just…just tell me."