AN – Have some Durin family feels! This is not set in my Greater than Gold universe and is entirely separate from that work. I just had this plot stuck in my head and I needed to get it out! There will be two chapters to this story (and I'm sure some of your more astute darlings will know what happens in the next one).

Follow me on tumblr! displacedhobbit dot tumblr dot com.

I still own nothing. Enjoy!

Warnings: Canonical character death, depression. Unbetaed writing (ooooop).

Trees
Chapter 1: Cottonwood
By Displaced Hobbit

It has been six days since their father died.

Six days since they were playing in the garden as the sun began to set, eagerly awaiting the evening horn blast that would signify their father's return from the mines. Six days since they had instead heard a deafening explosion, one that rumbled through the very ground and collapsed dozens of houses closer to the mines. Six days since he'd been forced to tackle his little brother in the streets as he tried to rush toward the mines, dragged him back home to their horror-stricken mother. Six days since the knock on the door that had the foreman handing his mother a small bag of coin and offering his condolences. Six days since the three of them had huddled together on the floor, grasping at one another and sobbing, because their father was gone, gone, gone.

His uncle Thorin had arrived with great haste the following morning, clearly worried for his sister and her sons, but unable to offer them any real comfort. It was not for a lack of trying – his Uncle did care; really, truly cared – but emotions were not his strong front – battles were. He and Fili had grown rather close over the last few years, once Thorin had begun training him as his heir. In truth, he had become a bit fonder of his uncle than his father, though his heart ached deeply at the loss of the man who'd read him to sleep and taught him how to walk.

Kili was much, much closer to their father than he had ever been. On days that Thorin would take Fili out for trainings and lessons, Kili spent all of his time with their father, romping through the woods, learning the bow that their grandfather on their father's side had been so adept at using. Their father was the only one who Kili allowed to braid his hair or sing him to sleep. For all of the loss and ache that Fili felt, he knew his brother must feel it ten times over.

His mother stayed strong, though her eyes were constantly rimmed with red and her sadness was palpable, and Fili thought he had done a spectacular job of pulling himself together, of distracting himself with training with his uncle to be a prince of a lost kingdom, but in the past six days, Kili, his sweet, loving little Kili, had grown completely despondent.

Six days ago, when after hours of crying, their mother finally tucked them into their bed with soft kisses and fiercely whispered endearments, and Kili had barely moved, eaten, or slept since. He'd not spoken a word since the foreman's visit, not even a broken one hidden in a sob. All he'd done is lie there, looking to the rest of the world like a broken doll. No amount of gentle coaxing from their mother, or stern words from their uncle, or even his own pleas had been able to rouse him. Kili had stayed still and silent as stone, and he was starting to think he might loose his brother, too.

He was scared down to his core. He'd never truly realized how fragile life really was, not until his father had been ripped away from him in an accident caused by someone else's carelessness, not until his little brother started slipping away from him. He knew he needed to do something, fast, for Kili grew paler and slimmer with each passing day.

"Won't you try and get your brother up today, Fili?" his mother asked quietly from across him at the table. They had only just finished eating breakfast, the day had only just begun, yet he was struck by how worn and lost his mother looked. "And try to make him eat something?"

"Yes, mum," he replied as he stood. He strode across the room and dropped a chin to his mother's shoulder before wrapping her in a warm hug from behind and pressing a kiss to her cheek. He and his brother had always been so affectionate with their family, even with their uncle Thorin if he managed to not push them away. His gesture pulled a small-but-genuine smile across his mother's face, one that warmed his heart slightly as he quickly fixed a small plate for his brother, knowing full well that the boy wouldn't eat any of it, but determined to try anyway.

"G'morning, Kee," he greets quietly as he reenters the bedroom he shares with his brother. "Mum really wants you to eat today. She's worried about you."

Kili's eyes just stare listlessly ahead. With a sigh, he sets the plate on the bedside table and crosses his legs to sit on the floor facing his little brother.

"I'm worried about you, too. Even Uncle is," he admits. "You're scaring me."

Kili only blinks. Fili can't help the heavy sigh that escapes him. It's only been six days, yet he feels like he's aged so much. His eyes rove across his brother's face, hoping for just the tiniest twitch or indication that he's even listening, and finds none. He does, however, note the disheveled brain that sits just above his ear, and thinks that he would feel a little bit better if he could at least make the lad look a bit more presentable.

When he reaches for the braid, Kili jumps back like he's been burned.

It's obvious from the pain that crosses his face that his muscles hurt from such a sudden movement after so much stillness, and he goes incredibly pale to the point that Fili is terribly afraid he will faint, but he can't help the tiny bit of joy that claws it's way up his throat at the fact that he's simply reacted to something.

"No," Kili croaks out, a battered and broken sound, but it's a sound and it makes the joy Fili feels double.

"I just thought you might feel better if you get a little cleaned up," he explained, trying to decide the best course of action for coaxing his brother out of looking like a scared, cornered animal.

Kili relaxes just the tiniest bit, and he sees just how tired the boy looks. "Da does my braids."

Fili's heart breaks just a bit more at the broken-sounding admission. It was true, he knew it was; their father did Kili's braids every morning, a special, swirly-looking braid that not even their mother knew how to craft; a special, swirly-looking braid that had always adorned their father's golden hair.

"An' now he's never gonna do them again, is he?" his brother asks softly, voice holding the tiniest bit of hope that Fili will tell him that this was all a bad dream, that their father is waiting for them in the kitchen like he does every morning, that everything is okay.

"Oh, Kili," he murmurs softly. He rises up to his knees to reach for his brother, brushes his hand along the smooth skin of his cheek before tucking the mussed braid behind his ear.

The second Kili starts to cry he's climbing up on the bed at breakneck speed to gather him up in his arms. The contact seems to break the dam that has formed around his emotions, and suddenly Kili is wailing and screaming and sobbing against him. Their mother rushes in, with Thorin hot on her heels, concern clear on both of their faces. He looks up in time to see the relief flit across his mother's face as she rushes to their bed and gathers both of her sons into her arms.

For a long while there's nothing more than tears and sobs and halfhearted punches against his chest. When Kili calms, he's suddenly terrified that the boy will slip back into his unresponsive state, but he asks if he can have a wash instead. Thorin immediately rushes off to draw the bath, while Fili and their mother carefully pull the braids free from his hair. Kili doesn't protest, not once, but once both of the braids are pulled free he presses his face to Fili's throat and releases a shuddering breath.

He wishes he knew how to help, wishes he knew how to make this better, but there's nothing. There is not a thing in this world that can bring their father back, and he knows it. They all know it.

And it hurts.

Kili looks better after he bathes but still refuses to eat. It is a small victory to Fili that his little brother immediately curls up against his chest and falls into a fitful sleep.

When Fili finally drifts off, he dreams of forests and laughter and his father twirling special braids into his hair.

Morning comes, damp and bleak, and Dis and Thorin work together to coax her sons to eat. They are both timid and quiet this day; today is the day of the memorial, when their father will be symbolically laid to rest among the stone of the mountain. Her own heart is heavy with grief; she has lost so, so much. Yet, she holds on to the existence of her eldest brother and her sons like a lifeline. They are her greatest treasure now.

She is unsurprised when Kili refuses to step inside the mountain tomb. The lad has never much liked being underneath the mountain, has always fears the crushing power of the stone, and having lost his father in such a collapse she cannot blame him. Thorin, showing a rare level of patience for her younglings, sits outside with him while she and Fili attend the service.

It is a sad affair. In all, thirteen dwarrows were lost in the explosion, all because of the mistake of one of them, one who lit a fuse that shouldn't have been lit. Fili keeps his arm looped in hers, stays pressed close to her side, and only once buries his face in her hair to hide his tears. She is proud of her eldest, so calm and collected like her brother, yet so thoughtful and loving like her One. He will make a great king to Erebor one day, she thinks, if in name only.

When they leave, she finds Kili tucked tightly against his uncle's side, a rare show of affection gracing her brother's features as he cards a battle-worn hand through the lad's unbraided hair. She hopes he will stay around for a while; he often visits for months and then leaves for months, and her boys have always enjoyed his company tremendously. She thinks they would do well to have a strong figure in their lives now, and she does not trust herself to do the job.

"I don't think Da would like to be buried in there," Kili muses quietly once they've all reunited.

She has to agree with him. He had always preferred the fresh air and the forest, had loved to go out on a hunt instead of toiling in the mines, had only worked in the mines out of necessity in the first place, but there was no body left for her to bury, and she supposed the mountain would have to suffice.

"Da loves the trees," Kili continues absently, sightless eyes staring off into the distance until Thorin urges him up to return home.

The night at their home is somber and quiet, and if she crawls into bed with her sons for the night Thorin doesn't comment.

"Kili, look!" Fili exclaims as he barrels back into their small home the next morning, face split in a wide smile and cheeks flushed with excitement.

Kili turns from where he had been picking at his breakfast to regard his brother with tired, albeit curious, eyes. Fili looked positively triumphant as he drops a fairly large black seed onto the table. "What is it?" the youngest asked, clearly intrigued.

"It's a cottonwood tree seed," he explained. "Uncle Thorin took me out in the woods this morning and I found it."

Said uncle chose that moment to come back into the house, flashing the family a small, warm smile as he did. He ducked his head sheepishly at the beaming smile Dis flashed at him, clearly pleased that her boys were in higher spirits.

"That's Da's favorite," Kili breathes as he reaches for the seed. "We use to climb 'em all the time to get a better view for hunting."

"I thought we could plant it in the garden," Fili explained, his tone going soft and taking on a slight tone of reverence at the wide-eyed gaze Kili was giving him. "And then we could have a little piece of Da forever, yeah?"

Kili was out of his seat faster than he'd moved in a week. "Mum can we?" he asked, turning pleading brown eyes to her. "Please?"

She bends to press a kiss atop both of their heads. "Of course, my sweetings." She waves a hand toward the door. "Your uncle will help you, I'm sure of it. I'll be out in a bit once I get your breakfast put away."

Both of the lads rushed off after their uncle to the garden, small smiles dancing across their faces. It wasn't true happiness, not yet, not when the hurt was far too fresh, but it was a step in the right direction. Seeing Kili just out of bed was more than enough to warm her heart. She was so incredibly proud of her eldest son, sweet, thoughtful Fili who had gone out of his way and came up with a perfect way to perk his brother up, to perk them all up.

When the lads come in a while later, Thorin trailing at their heels, there are genuine smiles on both of their faces. Her brother herds them in to wash up, as they seem to have gotten dirt all over themselves. Kili actually eats something, and her heart lightens immensely. She may have lost her One, and she knows she will mourn him every single day, but she still has her precious boys.

They'll be enough.

"Kili! Come on," she calls, exasperated. "You need to wash up for dinner, you little mongrel!"

"He's in the garden," Fili supplies helpfully. "I'll fetch him if you want."

"No, no, dear heart. I'll get him," she replies, patting him on the shoulder as she passes. "Set a place for your uncle, will you? He's due back any day now."

"Yes, mum," he calls after her before getting to his chores.

She finds Kili exactly where she expects to, perched on one of the low branches of the cottonwood tree in the far corner of their garden, diligently sharpening some arrowheads, chattering away to his Da as he works. In the ten years since the father of her son's death, the tree has grown into an impressive specimen, and both of her boys spend a fair amount of time under its branches. She does too, if she's honest with herself.

"There you are, my little sweeting," she calls, pleased at the warm smile her endearment pulls out of him. "You'll miss your supper if you stay out here much longer."

He put the arrowheads he's working on into a leather satchel before dropping them down to the ground. With a rather elaborate spin, he jumps down from the branch with a bright smile and a squeal of delight.

"Don't you scare me like that, child!" she scolds, though she's laughing lightly at his antics. For too long, she had to watch her son act like a shell of himself. It had taken Kili a long time to accept to death of his father, to move past the grief, to find his own happiness again.

"Sorry, mum, he murmurs with an unapologetic smile as he throws an arm around her shoulder and presses a kiss to her cheek. "Love you."

"And I you, you mangy little rascal," she murmurs as she ruffles a hand through his unbraided hair. "Go and wash up lad; your uncle should be back soon with loads of stories about that old wizard he's gone to visit."

He bounds into the house to do as he's been asked, and she takes the last few steps toward the tree and presses her palm against it. Her eyes mist over a little bit as her thoughts fill with her late husband. The tree serves as a beautiful memorial for him, one that all of them are able to take comfort in whenever they need it, and she is immensely grateful for the thoughtful gesture of her eldest son so many years ago. Long arms wrap around her from behind, and she turns to see the smiling face of her youngest.

"This is my favorite place," he admits. "I can feel Da here. It makes me feel better."

She presses a kiss against his cheek. "Me too," she confesses, taking a bit of comfort in the warm embrace.

"Come on," he urges after a moment, tugging his mother back with him. "I heard uncle speaking with Fili when I went inside."

"Yes, yes," she replied quickly as she wiped at her eyes. "I might need to send you to market to fetch another barrel of ale, depending on how merry your uncle is feeling."

Kili laughs lightly as he links his arm with his mother's and leads her into the house.

She knows that she has lost so much to get to where she is now – her home, her youngest brother, her father and grandfather, her husband – but she has two beautiful, sweet wonderful boys as consolation, and she wouldn't trade a second with them for all of the gold in the world.

They'll be enough. They've always been enough.

Bit of a different one from me, but I hope you enjoyment it nonetheless. Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!