Kíli yelped as his brother kicked his legs out from under him. Laughing, Fíli punched the air in momentary victory. Kíli, sensing a narrow opportunity for revenge, sprang up and tackled the fair-haired dwarf.
"Hey!" Fíli puffed indignantly. "I already won!" he rolled over and secured his younger brother in a headlock.
"Not fair," Kíli whined, voice slightly strained. "I wasn't ready for that." With a bit of effort, he managed to wriggle out from his brother's tight grasp.
The two dwarves grappled for a moment, neither one gaining much leverage. Each step brought them closer and closer to the edge of the riverbank. Their antics were carrying them precariously close to the edge of the riverbank.
"Stop pulling my hair!"
"Did you just try to bite me?"
Birds squawked and flew out of the trees, alarmed by the loud bickering.
A misstep and a sharp cry later, the brothers found themselves tumbling down the steep bank. Narrowly avoiding the trees on the way down, they rolled to a stop mere inches from the edge of the swift waters in a tangled mass of limbs.
Kíli felt the cold water lapping at his fingers, which were slowly growing numb; his arm had been pinned under Fíli's torso. "Well, that could have been worse," he panted.
The two brothers untangled themselves and caught their breath.
"It was a bit too close for comfort," Fíli grumbled. "We must be more careful next time."
Kíli snickered at his brother's disgruntled expression. There was a leaf in Fíli's hair.
"Kíli, I'm being serious! Look at my face. This is my serious face." He furrowed his brow and pursed his lips for emphasis. "We could have been washed all the way down to the trading port. Imagine the time it would have taken us to get back."
"Sorry." Kíli had to suppress a laugh. "It's just…leaf…" unable to contain himself, he let out a guffaw.
Despite himself, Fíli smiled. He plucked the leaf from his hair and tried to stick it in Kíli's. The younger dwarf, in hysterics, swatted his brother's hand away, successfully deflecting the assault.
The sound of crunching leaves snapped the pair back to reality and brought their attention to the top of the riverbank.
Dwalin peered over the edge with his hands on his hips and his brow wrinkled in confusion. "What are you two doing?" he asked disapprovingly.
"Erm…we fell?" Fíli gave a sheepish smile.
"I have been looking for you two. You must return to Erebor. A dragon is coming!"
Fíli and Kíli exchanged a surprised look.
"Dragon?" Kíli frowned. He had never seen a dragon before in his life, and his imagination conjured images of majestic, fire-breathing creatures. He stared at Dwalin with rapt attention.
"Yes, dragon. Make haste. King Thorin awaits you…and pray tell him that we are all awaiting his command!" Dwalin ran off, leaving Kíli slightly disappointed; he had hoped to learn more about the dragon. Heeding Dwalin's words, Fíli and Kíli scrambled back up the riverbank.
"Look!" Fíli cried upon reaching the top. He pointed at the distant treetops.
Kíli gazed in wonder at the woods. The trees were burning like torches and the scent of pine needles was in the air. He had a sudden desire to see the dragon (from a safe distance, of course). It was hard to believe that there was a creature that could set fire to the whole forest. He would have to get Fíli to go see it with him later. Kíli shook his head, clearing it of such thoughts. Now was not the time to be distracted by childish fantasies.
The hot, dry wind whistled past the two young dwarves as they sprinted back to Erebor. It only took them minutes to reach the back door. The halls of the city under the mountain were eerily silent, save for their rapid footfalls on the stone floors. There was not a single dwarf in sight in the normally crowded corridors. Fíli and Kíli moved with ease, knowing every twist and turn within. They reached the throne room far faster than they would have on a normal afternoon; nobody was there to block their way. Upon entry to the throne room, they found Thorin in a foul mood.
"Took you two long enough to get here," he muttered contemptuously, just loud enough for his nephews to hear.
Kíli opened his mouth, about to tell his uncle that he and Fíli had in fact made it back in record time. Fíli elbowed him and the younger one quickly shut his mouth.
"What should be done about the dragon?" Fíli asked, looking at his uncle's feet. "Our warriors are awaiting orders," he added, remembering what Dwalin had said.
"Let them do what they may—I have no desire to venture to the gates." Thorin's eyes were cold and calculating. He betrayed no emotion.
Fíli met his uncle's eyes with surprise, jaw dropping slightly. "Uncle, our people need you. They cannot face the dragon alone."
"They will not be alone." Thorin's lips twitched in amusement. "You and your brother will stand on my behalf."
A beat of silence.
"Sorry, what?" Kíli stammered, speaking out of turn and looking utterly baffled.
"Have I not made myself clear?" Thorin was further enraged by his youngest nephew's innocent response. "You and Fíli are to join the warriors at the gates."
Boom! The floor of the throne room shuddered violently. Kíli shifted uncomfortably. Now that the dragon was so close, he no longer felt any desire to see it.
"It seems that Smaug has arrived," Thorin said, lacing his fingers together. "You have a job to do."
"We've never even seen battle!" Fíli protested, "let alone fight one against a dragon!"
"There is a first time for everything," Thorin said with a dismissive flick of his hand. "Run along, now. Do not test my patience today."
"You can't do this! We're barely of fighting age!" Fíli shouted, storming up to the dais.
Thorin stood up and glared at his oldest nephew. "You have overstepped your limits," he growled, moving within inches of Fíli's nose and staring him down with icy blue eyes. "You are a presumptuous dwarf who lacks the ability to follow commands without question. Get out of my sight. Both of you!"
The two dwarves scurried from the throne room. After a bit of thought, Kíli decided that he would take the dragon over the wrath of his uncle any day. He was certain it would have better breath, too.
After the departure of Fíli and Kíli, Thorin fell back in his chair heavily. He had been a less than satisfactory uncle to his nephews since the Battle of Khazad-dûm. How was he to be a loving uncle while he was still haunted by the memories of his grandfather's demise and his father's descent into madness? No, it was much better to distance himself from his nephews than to show weakness before them. Boom! Thorin almost rushed to the gates to help defend his home, but caught himself before he could reach the doors of the throne room. He couldn't just show up in the great hall after saying he wouldn't fight. With a heavy heart, he made for the hidden pass and fled to Dale in shame.
Hearts racing, Fíli and Kíli made their way down to the armoury, slowing down only to descend the narrow stairway. Boom! They sifted through the remaining weapons, tossing aside items they had not been trained to use. Fíli had a preference for wielding two swords, one in each hand, while Kíli found trust in the bow and arrow. Each found what he was looking for, and Kíli picked up a sword for good measure. Both went without armour as they were lacking the time and knowledge to make sense of all the buckles.
Kíli hesitated at the base of the stairs, shooting his brother an uneasy glance. Fíli gave him a nod of encouragement, and the two headed for the gates. They slipped into the great hall unnoticed, joining the throng of dwarf-warriors.
Boom! The iron gates were beginning to give. Kíli looked up at his older brother, running his fingers along the string of his bow.
"Do you think we'll survive the night?"
Fíli tightened his grip on his swords. "Let's hope for the best."
Boom!
Kíli took a deep breath and pushed his messy dark hair out of his eyes.
"Oi! What do you think you are doing?" came a shout from behind them.
The two dwarves whirled around to find Bofur staring at them in surprise.
"This is no place for young'uns!"
Before either of the brothers could cough up a response, the gates burst open with a final boom! and the dragon's flames torched the front line. It definitely did not look like the dragon from Kíli's imagination.
"Get to safety!" Bofur cried over the din of panicking dwarves. He disappeared into the crowd.
"What do we do?" Kíli shouted to his brother.
"Do I look like I know how to fight a dragon?!" Fíli dodged a flying chunk of stone, raising an arm to shield his face.
"We obviously can't stay here! We'll end up causing more trouble!"
Fíli looked over his shoulder. To his dismay, the dragon's talons had already collapsed the archway from which they had entered.
Kíli figured he might as well try to assist the defence of Erebor while his brother searched for a way out. He notched an arrow and released it. The twang of the unfamiliar bow was lost in the clamor, and the young dwarf watched his arrow bounce harmlessly off the dragon's red scales.
"Make for the gates!" Fíli shouted. "It's the only way out!"
Kíli let one more arrow fly in the dragon's direction before scrambling after Fíli. As they neared the gates, a poorly aimed arrow grazed his side. Warm blood trickled down his side, and he began to wish he had worn armour.
The two brothers loped around the pillars, dodging spurts of flame as the dragon worked its way into Erebor. Smaug disregarded Fíli and Kíli. Not worth the trouble, he thought. Not enough meat on them for a mouthful. Seemingly out of nowhere, an axe struck his right leg. He roared in indignation, incinerating another line of dwarves.
"Fíli!"
The dwarf turned at his brother's cry, just in time to see the dragon's sweeping red tail before it collided with him and Kíli, sending them into the far wall with a painful thud. The room seemed abnormally bright, every noise muted. He could just make out his brother's crumpled, inert form through the dust before losing consciousness. Whether the pounding was the footsteps of the dragon or of his own heart he did not know.