Hi everyone! New story here- -or at least a new story for this site. I've posted it already on AO3, so if you follow that site, it'll be familiar!

This was designed as a 'fix-it' for a fic called 'Gold Lust' by ThornyHedge on Archive of Our Own. I encourage you to read it if you can, this story will make a lot more sense if you do. But on *this* site, I recommend 'My Golden Treasure' by Namarea, which will also give you some insight into why Kili is so determined to get Fili away from Erebor.

But please note, this is a Fili/Kili romance, so there will be incest, but nothing too explicit. There will also be mentions of past rape/incest, but also nothing explicit.

Reviews are very welcome!

Chapter 1: A Glimmer of Hope

Dwalin watched with consternation as Kíli paced frenetically from one side of his office to the other, face fixed in a scowl. He exchanged a worried look with Balin before addressing the young dwarf.

"Settle down, Kíli! I'm afraid you'll upset your brother if he sees you like this," the bald dwarf grumbled.

Dark eyes met his, "I know that!" Kíli snapped. "Why do you think I'm here and not with Fíli and Óin?" His voice softened, "Ori is keeping him company while Óin treats his wounds. Fíli enjoys his company and his presence is soothing in a way that mine would not be right now."

"Perhaps you should take a page from your brother's book, then, Kíli," Balin observed with a touch of asperity. "He seems calm enough; more so than I would expect given what he has experienced…again," he added with weary sigh.

The young prince had always been respectful of the elderly dwarf, but now he rounded on him with a snarl, "Don't you dare try to tell me how Thorin's 'demonstrations' affect my brother! He can disguise his feelings in public because he must, but you do not hear him awaken crying in the night, or see how he flinches from my touch for days afterward."

Dwalin sighed and closed his eyes, the sick feeling in his belly that had started to abate when they had left Thorin's presence suddenly back with a vengeance. He had been relieved when Kíli had stopped struggling to intervene on his brother's behalf, but now seeing the deep well of rage and pain in the young dwarf's eyes, he understood. Kíli had not reconciled himself to Thorin's abuse of his brother, and would never while he still drew breath.

"He speaks little, barely eats and seldom sleeps," Kíli continued, his voice rough. "Fíli sits in council as he is required, but rarely says a word, and only trains when forced to." He met Balin's eyes, "If you cannot see that Thorin is crushing his spirit—my sweet Fíli, my beloved nadad," he added, his voice cracking, "it is because you do not wish to."

He turned to Dwalin, "You keep telling me that Thorin has the right to do this. It is also right for a mad king to utterly destroy the heir he supposedly cherishes? I am telling you now that Thorin is killing him as surely as if he were to put a blade through his heart. If this goes on I fear that Fíli will eventually die of grief or decide to take his own life. And if by some miracle he survives, there will only be a broken shell left to inherit the throne when we are finally blessed by Thorin's passing."

"Kíli," Dwalin cried in surprise, "Do not say such things!"

The young prince straightened and glared at the older dwarves, "You may be content to stand by and watch that happen, but I am not. If Fíli's torment does not end, I will end it, even if that means putting Thorin down like the beast he has become."

"Kíli," Balin hissed, "you speak treason!"

Kíli chuckled, altogether mirthlessly. "How can you possibly believe that I care about that when my King," he spat contemptuously, "is destroying by inches the one I love best in the world." He closed his eyes for a moment, when he opened them again he was calm, at least outwardly. The brunet bowed slightly, "Excuse me, my lords, my brother requires my care." With that, he disappeared out the door.

Dwalin slumped wearily against the desk and silence fell between the brothers. Finally Balin sighed deeply, "He's not wrong, brother, we cannot go on like this." He shook his head, "We're going to lose both of them if Kíli tries something rash and gets caught in the attempt. And by the Maker, I can't say that I'd blame him if he did try to kill Thorin."

The bald dwarf met Balin's gaze, tears in his eyes, "Mahal's hammer, brother, I thought it would stop. That Thorin would tire of using Fíli in this way, or that he would recover from the gold sickness. I thought it would stop," he repeated, his voice breaking.

Balin clasped his arm in sympathy, "I know, brother, I know."

-ooo-

Spring was just shaking off the last vestiges of winter chill when the two princes and their escort rode into Dale. Kíli had been to visit and assist with the reconstruction several times since Erebor was reclaimed, but this was the first time the Crown Prince had been allowed to accompany him. The King was extremely reluctant to let Fíli leave the Mountain and finally it required Óin's insistence that it was needed for health reasons. In light of the older prince's increasing frequent illnesses, Thorin was at last persuaded to let him go.

The new King of Dale, Bard the Bowman, knew nothing of this, of course, but he was surprised and pleased when the arrival of both princes was announced. He and his children met them in the courtyard of their residence as the dwarves dismounted. Bard greeted them, beaming, "Welcome to Dale, my lords! It is splendid to see you again, Prince Fíli. Of course, your company is always a pleasure as well, Prince Kíli," he added with a wink. The dark-haired prince grinned broadly in return. "How long has it been, Prince Fíli, since you last visited Dale?"

"Thank you, your highness, for your gracious welcome," Fíli said quietly, offering his hand. "It's been over a year, I'd say. I wish I could have come more often, but my duties keep me close to the Mountain."

"Just Bard, please," the dark-haired man admonished. "You'll have luncheon with us, of course…" he prompted with a smile.

"Of course, Bard, we would be honored," Fíli replied, smiling warmly in return.

Bard glanced over to where his children were waiting impatiently; they had become friends with the princes when the brothers were stranded in Laketown due to Kíli's injury. He grinned at the blond prince, "I believe there are some others here who wish to greet you." With that, his children surged forward, Tilda hanging on Fíli's arm in delight.

The King of Dale turned to Kíli, a smile on his face but his heart shadowed. In truth, he was shocked by Fíli's appearance and demeanor. The blond dwarf was dressed as befitted a Prince of Erebor, and his golden hair braided neatly as always, but otherwise he was anything but the strong, hearty dwarf Bard recalled from previous meetings. Fíli was noticeably thinner and paler than before, with deep circles under his eyes. And although Fíli had always been more restrained than his boisterous brother, they had shared a lively spark and sense of mischief that made them easy to like. Now that spark was absent and it troubled the man greatly that it was so.

Amidst these ruminations he smiled and grasped Kíli's hand in greeting. "Kíli, my friend, it is good to see you again. Thank you for coming and bringing your brother. The children have often asked about him."

Kíli returned the smile, but it did not escape Bard's attention how frequently his eyes found their way to his brother, chatting nearby with the children. "It took some persuading to convince the King to let him come," the younger prince replied tightly, "he likes to keep his heir close to hand."

The hard edge in the dark-haired dwarf's voice was unmistakable, so Bard decided that this was a situation where concern for a friend should outweigh the fear of offending an ally. After glancing over to confirm that the Crown Prince was still absorbed in his conversation, Bard murmured, "My friend, I pray I do not offend, but your brother does not seem at all well."

Kíli looked away, focusing on nothing, "You are correct, he is not well. The King is extremely…demanding of his heir." The young prince met his eyes and Bard returned the gaze, speechless in surprise, both for such an admission from a member of the notoriously secretive race, and even more so for the fury he saw in Kíli's eyes. When he glanced back at his older brother Bard read pain in his face, and fear; fear for his brother. Whatever had damaged the blond prince had burdened the formerly irrepressible, ever-smiling Kíli as well.

Bard thought feverishly; obviously something was very wrong in the Kingdom of Erebor, seemingly with the King himself, but what could it be? Bard had always felt wary respect for Thorin Oakenshield, there was no question he was a strong king and a valuable ally. But the Dalesman had never found him to be at all warm or likeable, in sharp contrast to his friendly and personable nephews.

Then he recalled something that chilled his heart and made him gasp softly in dismay. The rumors. There had been rumors—whispers—of practices among the dwarves of Erebor that made his mind shy away in disgust. King and kinsmen were mentioned, he recalled, and but no other details were forthcoming. Not that he had pressed for specifics; on the contrary he had dismissed the tales as slanderous and salacious. After all, the Valar knew what ridiculous stories were told about the sexual practices of elves!

Now Bard's gut clenched, wondering if the rumors might possibly be true, in whole or in part. He glanced up at Kíli who was watching his brother with a sad smile on his face. Following the younger prince's gaze, he saw Fíli raise a hand to gesture, his sleeve falling away to reveal both his wrist and a faint red ring of scaring such as the man had seen on prisoners who had been manacled. He closed his eyes briefly and let out a puff of breath in dismay. When he opened his eyes again, Bard's jaw tightened; he must offer assistance, but how? It would take a far more skilled tongue than his to hint without giving offense that the King of Erebor was hideously abusing his nephew and heir.

Finally, the King of Dale determined that a more circumspect approach was in order. He cleared his throat. "Kíli, my friend, have you and your brother ever considered…travel? I'm sure your kingdom could benefit from improving relationships with other realms; Rivendell, for instance, or even Gondor." Bard held his breath, unsure how the young prince would respond.

Kíli's head whipped around and he stared at Bard, open-mouthed. Eventually he found his tongue, "I…we would welcome the opportunity to visit other realms. But although I think Thorin could be persuaded to send me, I'm afraid he will never agree to let Fíli go further than Dale."

The Dalesman did not think he was imagining the dawning hope in the eyes of the dwarf prince. He clasped Kíli's arm and replied, "Regardless, please keep in mind that should you or your brother ever need travel…assistance, you have friends in Dale."

The young prince's bowed his head briefly and glanced over to his brother, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "Thank you," he whispered.

Shortly afterward Bard declared to those assembled that it was time to go in for luncheon. He turned away to lead them inside, but smiled to himself when he saw the dwarf brothers bump shoulders and exchange a look of deep affection as they entered the house.

Only topics of general interest were discussed while they ate, and afterward the princes left to conduct the business they had planned for the day. When they returned late in the afternoon to retrieve their mounts, they also made their farewells to the King and his family.

"Did your business go as you hoped?" Bard asked Kíli politely.

"Oh, aye," Kíli grinned, "very well." He gave Bard an intent look, "We stopped by to see Bofur's new toy shop in the market square."

"Did you?" Bard chuckled. "It's become quite the landmark already; the first dwarven toyshop in Dale since the Mountain was reclaimed."

The dark-haired dwarf glanced down at his feet for a moment, then met the King's eyes, "I'm pleased that there is such a link between the Mountain and Dale. Bofur is an honorable and trustworthy dwarf."

Bard blinked in surprise, then nodded at the prince, "Aye, I agree."

He waved farewell to the dwarves, his mind churning. Kíli's message had been received; Bofur could be trusted.

-ooo-

Kíli scanned the street anxiously before turning to the door of Bofur's toyshop, the late afternoon sun setting the display in the window aglow. He knocked briskly, twice, rattling the 'closed' sign, and before it could still the door opened and Bofur peered out.

Instead of his usual broad smile, the older dwarf had an odd expression on his face, equal parts wonder and trepidation. Bofur nodded to the prince and opened the door wide enough for Kíli to slip through. "They're in the back," he told the prince quietly, not explaining who 'they' were.

He followed Bofur through the shop and into the workroom beyond where two tall figures waited in silence. One was a dark-haired man, cloaked in gray, with a star pin at his throat. The other was also dressed in gray, and when he stepped out of the shadows Kíli felt his throat close.

Gandalf's familiar and much-missed voice rumbled, "It is good to see you again, Kíli my lad. I could only wish that it would not have been in such dire circumstances."

Kíli shook his head and looked at Bofur askance, "Did you know about this?"

Bofur held up his hands entreatingly, "No, lad, on my oath I did not! Bard's message just said there were two that you should meet."

The prince turned back toward Gandalf and sighed heavily, "Don't mistake me, I am glad to see you Gandalf, but why did it take so long? We…needed you. Fíli needs you."

The wizard smiled sadly at him and pulled the young dwarf into his arms. "I am sorry, Kíli, I was tending to matters elsewhere and I did not know. Once I learned what was happening here I came as soon as I was able." He sighed, his voice heavy with regret, "Thorin seemed well enough at the coronation, I never suspected the gold sickness would take hold of him again."

Kíli nodded, it was true that the last time the Gandalf was in Erebor his uncle had apparently recovered from the madness that gripped him before the battle. He had even reconciled with Bilbo, and it was only in the weeks and months that followed that the sickness came creeping back to steal the King's mind from him. "You will help us now, won't you?" he asked urgently.

"Of course, that is why I am here!" Gandalf exclaimed. "But before we discuss how that may be accomplished, I would like to introduce my good friend, Halfalas of the Dúnedain. He will be assisting us in this endeavor."

The dark-haired man smiled and bowed slightly, his hand on his chest, "Prince Kíli."

Kíli gasped in surprise and elation. A Dúnedain Ranger! Having lived in Eriador all his life the young prince had heard tales of the Rangers, and had even seen them on the road once or twice. Although many men and hobbits considered them to be grim and secretive, even frightening, he had been taught they were noble Men and doughty warriors, always willing to help someone in need. Even better, their knowledge of the wilderlands of the North was unsurpassed by any, save possibly the elves. His heart soared, with Gandalf's help and that of the Rangers, surely his brother could soon be prised from Thorin's grasp!

The young prince bowed in return, a wide grin on his face, "Welcome, Master Halfalas. I would be exceedingly grateful for any assistance you could give us." Kíli turned back to the wizard, "So how are you going to get Fíli away from Uncle, Gandalf?"

Gandalf's brows rose, "I? I will have nothing to do with it, at least not directly." Seeing the young prince's confusion, he continued, "Kíli, be sensible, I can hardly march up to the gates of Erebor to denounce Thorin and demand that Fíli be given into my care."

Kíli scowled, "I know that, Gandalf!" Indeed, the young prince was certain that if anyone—especially a non-dwarf—so much as hinted that Fíli was being misused it would result in the King being even more possessive, and possibly more abusive toward his brother.

"And you also must know that if you and Fíli were to disappear and I had been recently seen within a hundred leagues of the Mountain, I would be suspected immediately." Gandalf nodded briskly, "Speed and secrecy are essential if we are to succeed. Halfalas and his compatriots will help spirit you both out of the Mountain and accompany you to Rivendell with all haste. I will meet you there."

The Ranger's keen gray eyes fell on Kíli, "My lord prince, the longer before they realize that you and your brother are missing the more likely it is we will be successful. Will there an occasion when your absence might go unnoticed for a day or even half a day?"

Kíli pursed his lips in thought, understanding immediately how useful it would be to conceal their absence as long as possible. "Well, the King is preparing to visit our cousin Dáin in the Iron Hills in a few weeks time, but I think he is planning to take Fíli with him."

"But not you?" Gandalf asked, his keen eyes on the young dwarf's face.

He snorted derisively, "Not likely. It's traditional for one of the heirs to stay in the Mountain at all times. Besides, he'd much prefer to be parted from me than from Fíli."

The wizard's eyes narrowed, "I see that you felt that you could trust Bofur to aid you in this effort. Are there others in the Company that would also keep your secret—Óin, for example?"

Kíli recalled how Glóin had to restrain his brother to keep him from confronting Thorin after the last time their uncle had abused Fíli. "Aye, I'm certain he would," he responded with a nod.

"Well then," the wizard said with a gleam in his eye, "I anticipate that your brother will be too ill to accompany the King on such a long journey. Far too ill."

The young prince stared at him in confusion, "What? But we're going to Rivendell, which is a much longer journey than…" He flushed and grinned sheepishly, "Ah, of course."

"Now that is settled," Gandalf answered wryly, "It is time to discuss the details of our plan."

-ooo-

That evening found Kíli in Fíli's bed, where he spent most nights when the King's attention was directed elsewhere. He buried his face in his brother's hair and tightened his arms around him as Fíli sighed contentedly.

"Fíli, azyungel, there is something I need to tell you," Kíli began.

His brother immediately tensed in his arms. "What is it, Kíli, is something wrong?"

"No, no," Kíli said soothingly, "it is something good, I promise." He took a deep breath before continuing. "I…I have started making arrangements for us to leave, in secret. To get you away from the Mountain—away from Thorin."

Fíli pulled away from his brother and sat up, his eyes wide with fear, "No, Kíli, no, it is too risky! We will be caught and brought back here… He will hurt you for trying to help me—perhaps even kill you! I will not have you suffer for me!"

The dark-haired dwarf grasped both of Fíli's hands in his, "Although it is nothing compared to what you have endured at his hands, can't you see that I'm already hurting? How much it pains me to see you suffer? To watch him killing you, day by day, while I stand by, unable to intervene? Besides," he added, trying to sound as confident as possible, "it is not so risky, we will have aid from outside the Mountain, and within."

"Kíli, please! What Thorin does, it…it is not so bad; I can endure it for as long as I need to. Please don't risk yourself like this, there must be another way."

His brother snorted, "Doing nothing is not an option I will consider, so don't even suggest it. But there is something else I had contemplated… Before I knew there were those who would help us, I had thought of trying to kill Thorin."

Kíli watched his brother's reaction carefully, as he expected, Fíli gasped in shock, "No, atamanel, no, I forbid it! It is treason, and they will execute you if you are caught!"

The younger dwarf pulled his brother close and kissed him fiercely, "I am not eager to leave you, brother, but if that is the price I must pay to keep you safe and sane, I would pay it, willingly." Kíli's lips twisted into a wry grin, "So the other option…"

Fíli sighed, sensing defeat, "I am not talking you out of this, am I?" The smug look on Kíli's face was all the answer he needed. "Who here do you think would aid us?"

"Bofur has already, and he tells me that Nori can be trusted as well. Óin too, and Ori, though I don't plan to tell Ori unless we need his assistance."

The blond looked thoughtful, "What about Dwalin?"

Kíli ran a hand through his hair pensively, "I'd like to think he and Balin would help, or at least not hinder us, but they have always been so loyal to Thorin…" He shook his head, "I'd rather not risk it."

The Crown Prince took a deep breath and nodded agreement, "Tell me everything."

-ooo-

A few days after King Thorin's departure for the Iron Hills the last wagons rumbled out of Erebor shortly before the gates closed for the night. Bofur watched anxiously from a concealed location nearby, ready to intervene should it become necessary. As a member of the Company he had a privileged position, and was certain he could persuade the guards to let the wagon pass, but it would also make wagon's departure…memorable. And on this occasion 'memorable' was something to be avoided at all costs. The guard took the bill of lading from the two men on the wagon's seat; by all appearances ordinary carters from Dale. Bofur heaved a sigh of relief when the guards waved the wagon through with no more than a cursory glance into the wagon bed.

Some hours later the wagon and its drivers disappeared into a nondescript warehouse on the outskirts of Dale. The drivers, Dalesmen no longer, were next seen mounted on tall, swift horses, garbed in gray with star pins on their cloaks. They passed through the gates unremarked, for Rangers were well known in Dale, and these two had arrived the previous day with urgent messages for the King. If anyone had bothered to look closely—and no one did, given the lateness of the hour—they might have noted a smaller figure seated in front of each man, concealed by the folds of their cloaks. They vanished into the night, riding hard toward Esgaroth.