This was a story I've written about a year ago in my mother tongue and which I felt like translating. It was quite hard, though, to transfer the childlike language into English, so I hope I didn't mess up too bad and that it still feels like a child is telling this story.
Let's go fishing
Their bedtime was coming closer, but Fíli was scared. Scared to fall asleep and what he would witness in his dreams. Yesterday he'd dreamed of papa, bloody clothes and empty eyes he only knew from dead birds. He shuddered just at the memory. He didn't want that. Mama had tried to reassure him, but it hadn't helped, last night he hadn't even dared to close his eyes. Over the day he'd been so tired, again and again pinching himself to stay awake, when his heavy lids once more tried to fall shut. While it had been broad daylight this tactic had worked pretty well, now however, it got increasingly more difficult.
Soon mama would send him to bed. But he didn't want to. He never wanted to sleep again if it meant seeing his dead papa. The thought made his sight go blurry and Fíli angrily wiped a hand over his burning eyes. Warriors didn't cry, he told himself, but he didn't feel like a warrior, he felt terribly alone.
He didn't want to cry in front of mama, she tried to hide it, but she was sad as well and Fíli seemed to have a talent to catch those rare moments, in which she wasn't able to suppress the tears any longer. Mama shouldn't cry. Mama should be happy, but this wasn't possible without papa. Fíli felt helpless. If uncle Thorin had been with them at least. He had to make sure, though, that the orcs that had killed papa wouldn't hurt anyone else. As much as it bothered him, it was good that uncle hunted those monsters. No other dwarf should have to lose their life.
In his desperate attempts to distract himself from the impending bedtime, he walked past the kitchen. Fíli halted abruptly and peeked inside. Kíli had shoved one of the chairs under the window, climbed onto it and stared outside. It was weird to see him so calm and quiet. In his efforts to stay awake he'd completely forgotten his little brother. Now however, he felt suddenly wide awake. What was he doing there? Was there something interesting outside?
Curiously he headed to Kíli's side, who was for the first time bigger than Fíli with his spot on the chair. The blond stood on his tiptoes, but was too small and couldn't even catch a glimpse over the windowsill. Pondering for a couple of seconds if he should climb onto the chair, Fíli decided soon against it. Up there wasn't enough space for the both of them.
"What are you doing?" he asked instead.
Kíli continued staring outside as he answered: "I'm waiting for papa. He should be back soon."
Pain shot through Fíli's chest, the briefly forgotten grief hammered on him, upset to have been ignored for so long. His throat felt awfully tight as he unsuccessfully tried to blink the tears away. It didn't help, in the end he wiped them with the sleeves of his tunic from his cheeks, while he wondered what to tell Kíli. He didn't understand. Kíli had been with them when Thorin had taken a seat next to them, to tell them what had happened to papa. Had Kíli already forgotten?
"Papa isn't coming back," he told his brother, his own voice croaking with stifled sobs.
"Yes, he will come back, for sure. He promised me!" Kíli insisted confidently, still avoiding Fíli's gaze to look outside.
Anger exploded in Fíli. So he truly hadn't listened? Hadn't he noticed how poorly he and mama where feeling? Had he just been having fun, even though papa wasn't with them anymore? How could he? Kíli was always easily distracted and enthusiastic, but that he wouldn't pay attention at the news seemed unthinkable. And still they stood here, Kíli and a chair and Fíli on the kitchen floor, and the younger believed papa was going to come back. But he wouldn't. Never again!
"You are so stupid! Did you even listen? The orcs have taken papa, he won't come back! Papa is dead!" he exclaimed.
This caught Kíli's attention. With tear-dimmed eyes he turned to Fíli, keeping his hands at the windowsill and glanced at him with a mixture of defiance and fear.
"He will come back! He promised to go fishing with me tomorrow and papa always keeps his promises!" the younger argued with conviction.
"Just because someone promises you something, doesn't mean that they will really do it." Fíli had experienced this far too often already, when it came to uncle Thorin. Before Kíli was born he'd begged his uncle frequently to play with him and Thorin had promised it just as often as something cropped up. Promises meant nothing!
"It does mean it!" With this sentence Kíli leaped from the chair, went around it angrily and glared at Fíli challengingly, while his small hands clenched into fists. "You will see! Tomorrow papa will be back and then you will be the stupid one!"
Fíli wasn't able to contain himself any longer and pushed Kíli so strongly that he crashed into the chair behind him. With a startled squeak, Kíli fell to the floor.
"Don't you get it?" Fíli hissed. "Papa is dead, he won't come back, ever! And it doesn't matter what he promised you, because the dead don't keep promises. The dead are dead and papa is dead!" he almost screamed his mind to the heavens, his voice cracking from the sheer volume. His throat was hurting as well, as he came to an end, breathing heavily.
Crying, his brother hunched on the ground, if it was because Fíli's words or the collision he couldn't tell. He didn't care. He just wanted that Kíli finally realised what happened and would stop making them sad with his stupid hopes!
Just when the door to the kitchen opened, his mother stepping inside, probably to find out what all the screaming was about, Kíli struggled to his feet. Tears were running over his cheeks, the reddened eyes and the puffy cheeks shaping an expression of misery.
"I hate you!" he blurted out, before he dashed out of the room with a sob.
Fíli heard the loud slamming of a door just a couple of heartbeats later, probably the door to Kíli's room. Fíli couldn't care less. He felt no pity for his brother. Why did he have to be so stupid? Papa didn't deserve that. He deserved better than someone not mourning him. Fíli caught himself hoping Kíli wouldn't be at the funeral, taking place in a couple of days. He was certainly going to ruin everything and hurt mama, uncle Thorin and him even more.
If it was up to Fíli, Kíli could just disappear and never return. It would be so much better if Kíli was gone and papa here with them. He missed him so much. His hugs, his kisses, his bedtimes stories, how bad he was at playing hide-and-seek – Fíli was winning every time, after all – how he'd taken care of him and comforted him.
Before Fíli knew what was happening, he found himself in his mother's loving embrace, only then realising that sobs hampered his breathing and his eyes hurt with tears.
"I want papa," he sobbed at the crook of her neck, clinging to her as if she would leave him as well, if he didn't hold onto her.
A hand rubbed his back, soothing and warm. "I know, my darling," she whispered, stroking his hair tenderly.
With mama he felt understood. She was sad. She missed papa. Mama was right, unlike Kíli. However, he didn't want to think about his brother, instead wanted to lose himself in his mother's arms, to be comforted until everything was well again. But nothing would be well again. Papa wouldn't come back.
Mama hummed the soft notes of a lullaby and this, along with his exhaustion coming with the sleepless night and the draining effect of the tears, caused him to close his eyes not much later.
On the next morning he awoke, no nightmare had haunted his dreams, but just because of it the world wasn't suddenly okay again. Kíli missed breakfast, only he and mama eating the sweet porridge. At the sight of the empty chair, Fíli began to feel a little guilty for his words and thoughts from the previous day. As he therefore asked his mama meekly and cautiously, why Kíli wasn't eating with them, she merely pointed to the kitchen window. She seemed just as tired and exhausted and so Fíli didn't press. Instead he pushed a chair under the window, like his little brother had done yesterday, and stared outside. From the window he had a good view at the entrance door and thus spotted Kíli instantly. His little brother sat next to the door, a packed bag beside him, a fishing pole lying across his lap and waited.
The sight chased the worry. Kíli still didn't get it! Huffing, he came down from the chair and put it back at the table, where it belonged. To distract himself and because he wanted to help, now that papa was gone, he assisted with cleaning up the kitchen. He only became angrier once he noticed the worried glances mama cast outside. Why did Kíli have to make it so hard for them?
The whole day Fíli tried to distract himself, but while he had been incredibly tired on the previous day, turning staying awake into a terrible fight, today he was well rested and had a harder time getting through the day. He didn't want to play or go outside. It felt wrong now that papa was gone. For a while he stared out of the window, flipped through one of his picture books afterwards and cried, when he couldn't bear the absence of his father anymore. The hours passed by sluggishly. If a life without his papa would always feel like that, then he didn't want it.
The quietness in the house wasn't remaining for long, for as the day progressed more and more dwarves paid them a visit, who wanted to offer their condolences to Dís. Quite often Kíli's waiting at the door came up and whenever Dís mentioned her youngest was waiting for the return of his father, a strange understanding expression emerged on the features of the guests, which Fíli wasn't able to comprehend. Why weren't they mad at Kíli? Why didn't they scold him for his silly behaviour? Fíli was so confused.
Due to the presence of so many dwarves, lunch was skipped. Fíli didn't mind, he wasn't hungry anyway. But a few hours later his mama asked him to fetch Kíli. Of course Fíli understood that Kíli could hardly sit there the whole day, but he still would've preferred if mama had fetched him herself. As it was expected of her, she had to take care of the guests, though and therefore Fíli trudged outside with a sigh.
By the time Fíli stepped outside, Kíli stared at the pole in his hands. Only when the heavy door fell shut, Kíli risked a brief glance. He lowered his head hurriedly and with such a weird expression that Fíli felt weak in the knees at the sight. Two minds about how to react, Fíli decided to stay silent, his eyes looking at everything but Kíli. The street in front of their house seemed strangely deserted, perhaps because most dwarves were working at the mines and everyone else still hunting orcs with uncle Thorin.
"He didn't come," Kíli whispered all of a sudden.
Surprised, Fíli met the gaze of his little brother, who looked completely heartbroken.
"Papa really isn't coming back, is he?"
His eyes began to burn once again. By now he couldn't even tell anymore how often he'd cried since uncle Thorin had broken the news to them, he only thing he knew was that it still didn't feel like enough. And perhaps it never would.
"No, he isn't coming back," he confirmed quietly.
Immediately his brother averted his gaze, sobs were rattling through his small chest as he buried his face in his arms to catch the tears.
"H-he pr-promised m-me. He promised he w-w-would come back," he cried. "He s-said he would show me how to ride a p-pony a-and how to shoot a-and he wa-wanted to go fishing with me to-today. B-but he isn't here! Why i-isn't he here?"
And suddenly Fíli wished Kíli to be as unreasonable as on the day before. Everything would be better than seeing him cry like this.
How did one make this well again? Mama would know what to do, but she had to look after the guests. Thorin would know what to do, but he was hunting orcs. Papa would know what to do, but papa… papa… The tightness in Fíli's throat grew until it felt unbearable, as if he was going to suffocate. And Kíli was still crying and Fíli didn't know what to do. This wasn't fair! Papa should be here to comfort Kíli and to go fishing with him… and instead he was…
"Promise me that you will take care of your brother, while I'm gone," his father asked him with a wide grin, ruffling a hand through his son's hair, even though he knew that Fíli didn't like it. After all, it ruined his braids he so painstakingly had plaited.
"I will," he replied, unsuccessfully trying to straighten his unruly strands.
From one moment to another something loosened inside his chest. The grief over the loss of his father was still painfully palpable, but something had changed. Something that dispelled the tears and eased his breathing.
"Let's go fishing!" it slipped out of Fíli's mouth.
Under different circumstances Kíli's surprised features might have looked funny and would've caused him to laugh loudly, the reddened eyes that gazed at him, the puffy cheeks and the traces of tears, though, choked Fíli almost instantly. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, while his heart pounded so fiercely inside his chest with tension, as if it searched for a way outside.
"What?" Kíli croaked.
"Papa didn't break his promise. I promised him to take care of you before he left. So he wanted me to show you all the things he can't show you now! And I can do that! I know how to fish and how to ride," he explained his brother and felt how the confidence, flooding through him, gained strength with every word. He hoped, though, that Kíli didn't notice Fíli deliberately not mentioning shooting. He seemed to be suddenly so much lighter, as if he'd finally seen through papa's words and Fíli would keep this promise, for papa.
"Really?" Kíli asked carefully and received a vigorous nod by his older brother.
"Really! Papa knew that I would keep his promises in his stead, therefore he didn't break them! Come on now, get up! We will go fishing!"
Fíli waited confidently for his little brother to get up, but the younger merely stared at him as if the blond had suddenly grown a second head.
"But it's late. Won't mama be angry?"
"Uhm…," Fíli hesitated. Kíli had a point. Mama had sent him out here to get Kíli to come inside. His brother was right, she would be really mad if they just disappeared like that, especially now with the setting sun. "Then we will go tomorrow, right after breakfast!" the blond declared. "Okay?"
A small smile crept to Kíli's lips, which had nothing in common with the ones he usually displayed, it was better than everything Fíli had seen for a while, though. He couldn't really describe what he felt at the sight, but it was warm and filled him with pride at the thought of being a big brother. Papa had to be proud of him as well.
"Okay," Kíli agreed with a sniffle.
