Summary: Fíli and Kíli survive the Battle of Five Armies, but are confronted with a life, they'd never expected.
I've written this story nearly a year ago in my mother tongue and translated it afterwards. I try to practise my English with translating my own stuff. However, since I'm not a native speaker there is always the possibility, that I do spelling errors or grammatical mistakes. If you detect one of these please tell me where, so that I can correct them.
Fílis thread of patience was strung to its breaking point. He was sick of it, just sick of it. Since both of their recovery Kíli seemed to follow him wherever he goes. If he stumbled, Kílis hand was there to catch him. If they were at the table, Kíli thrust the cutlery into his hands. Kíli combed his hair, guided him over stairs and through passageways, read reports to him and mothered him so much worse, than Dís ever did and this fact drove him insane. The life in Erebor was already not what he'd always dreamed of and now his little brother joined it in an annoying way.
It was only due to an enormous amount of luck, that both of them were able to survive the battle. They had bolted to the defense of their uncle and – when they couldn't find another method against the superior numbers of enemies – shielded him with their bodies. But their effort had been wasted, for their uncle succumbed to his injuries. Fíli felt miserable. What sort of an heir was he, when he wasn't even able to defend his king? He didn't deserve the crown and would've refused it…, if somebody would've offered it to him. Before his death Thorin hadn't the chance to name Fíli as his heir, something he'd done in Ered Luin. But considering that Thorin was actually never crowned king under the mountain by rights, Fílis hereditary title was only valid for the Blue Mountains. So the throne fell to the next descendant of the male line of Durin and therefore to Dáin Ironfoot. No one revolted against his appointment, because although Thorin had trained Fíli to be a future king, there weren't any dwarves of their folk, who wanted a crippled – and thereby a weak – king on the throne of the most meaningful dwarven realm. Because that was what the battle had made of him, a cripple. He didn't even have to pronounce it, so that it would taste like bile on his tongue.
Still so much worse than his invalid body was his brother, who was always by his side and tried to make his life easier. Damn it all! He didn't want someone's help, he wanted to manage his life by himself! He could only too well imagine the pitiful glances that had to encounter him anywhere, where he would pass with Kíli. That he wasn't actually able to see them stoke the anger in his inner. He hated this life in infinite blackness, but he hated so much more, that Kíli thought him not capable of doing anything since Fíli lost his sight.
Fíli knew still, which panic had dominated his mind, when he'd awoken for the first time after the battle, only to be welcomed by infinite darkness. He remembered how he'd raised a shaking hand to his eyes under the largest exertion and met a bandage. Despite the numerous wounds his broken body had suffered, he'd somehow been able to remove the linen from his face. To open his eyes had been painful and brought him only greater agony, as soon as the comprehension, regarding his condition, seeped into his mind. At first he'd screamed and so frantic in- and exhaled until his stomach revolted and he vomited beside his cot. Just a second later Óin rushed to his side, but his indefatigable attempts to calm Fíli finally ended with a smelly cloth upon his mouth and nose, until it clouded his senses and forced him into a deep unconsciousness. The next time, Fíli had been woken to the hoarse voice of his brother and a hand, which stroked tenderly through his sweaty hair. Since that day Kíli never seemed to lose sight of him, only at night Fílis was spared from his presence.
Every day got strenuous and more strenuous, for it didn't matter at all how often he told Kíli that he didn't want his help, that he wanted to master his daily routine all by himself, but the nuisance just wouldn't stop! The current evening was the final straw. They'd returned from a meeting with Dáin and Balin, while Thorins cousin sat on the throne he still appreciated Fílis opinion and therefore often factored him in his decisions. Fíli assumed that the king did this out of feelings of guilt, for he had lost a lot through the recapture of the mountain. But he couldn't be sure and would never be, at least as long as he wasn't able to look at his features with his own eyes.
After the meeting Kíli really considered it necessary, to send the supper to Fílis chamber. Fíli smelled Bomburs strong vegetable stew immediately and a heartbeat later anger seethed through him. Last time such a meal was served and he'd refused to let himself be helped by Kíli, he'd scalded himself lightly. For him this wasn't a reason to never try it again, but it was for Kíli. Cause he didn't hand him a spoon, but rather immersed it in the broth himself and requested him, to open his mouth.
It was the moment, when Fíli lost his control and hit the table angrily with his fist.
"Stop it! I'm blind, not useless!", he snarled at his brother.
For a little while there was silence, in which Fíli could precisely imagine, how Kíli would look at him in this moment. After all he knew this expression exactly. He would stand there, his lids widened, his features a mixture of shock and insult. The mere thought, that the other dwarf must look at him right now, like Fíli was responsible for this furious reaction, caused his body to quiver with rage.
"Fíli, I only want to help you", his brother eventually began to speak, his voice cautiously.
Furious, Fíli wiped the dishes from the table, which shattered on the stone floor with a loud clatter. How often had he told the other, that he didn't want his help? How often had he tried to indicate, that he wanted to learn how he could manage his days by himself? How often had he signified, that he wasn't useless just because he'd lost his sight? And despite everything! Despite everything Kíli still acted like his deeds could undo what happened in the battle.
"I don't want your help! Nothing what you say or do can help me in any way! Why aren't you able to grasp it?! I don't need you!"
Fíli wouldn't be surprised, if his yelling could be heard outside the chamber, but he cared little about it. He just wanted a moment to himself, so that he could finally breathe freely. Every heartbeat since his awakening he was forced to feel fragile, only because Kíli, with his blasted head, refused to simply listen to him. He didn't need an overcautious mother hen in every instant of his life!
He almost missed when Kíli bolted from the chamber, for he heard his own angry and noisily wheezing breaths too overlapping in his ears. It took a while until his racing heartbeat began to calm down and he was able to gasp for air more or less normally. The tremors remained in his limbs and with it an eerie silence. He swallowed heavily. The darkness, paired with his silent chamber, seemed by now not any longer desirable, like it had moments before. However, he wasn't going to apologize and above all, he would not feel guilty, he determined. He'd a right to take his life in his own hands. He'd a right to deal with this troublesome blackness, until he could get his life a new meaning.
With a sigh he rubbed the blindfold above his eyes. They always seem to throb painfully whenever his emotions boiled up. Maybe he just imagined it and it was actually his bad conscience that made its presence felt.
He shook his head lightly to shoo this thoughts, braced himself cautiously against both, the table and his chair, and pushed himself slowly up. This went smoothly, but after a few steps a sharp pang shoot through the bare bottom of his foot. Fíli cursed as he felt liquid under his toes as well, he obviously stepped right into a shard. In the darkness of his field of view and the weight only supported by his uninjured leg, it was extremely difficult for him to achieve his balance. Involuntarily he reached out in the direction, where his brother usually stood, though Fíli knew that he was by now alone in this chamber. He cursed again. So far it had already gotten, he dependent so much on Kíli, that he couldn't even move alone through his own room.
Hissing, he limped towards where he assumed the bed to be and hit the pillows, when he bumped sooner against the edge of the bed than he'd expected. Fíli took a deep breath to release the frustration that had bottled up in him, before he brought himself into a sitting position and palpated his injured foot hesitantly. He hissed quietly, as soon as he detected the cut.
"Oh, Fíli", he heard the voice of his mother by the door. She'd only arrived a couple of days ago with the third caravan from Ered Luin.
Fíli scolded himself inwardly. He urgently needed to train his hearing. If he'd to live with the blindness, then he wanted at least to create a possibility to not always be surprised by someone, only because he couldn't see them come and go. The mattress dipped a bit, where she settled beside him.
"Let me have a look", she demanded gently but firmly.
Reluctantly, he allowed her to examine his foot more precisely. In the end she wasn't the one, who had literally tried to crush him, since she knew about his condition.
"You've made quite a mess", she remarked soberly, while she dabbed off the blood with a cloth, probably so she could catch a better glimpse at the cut underneath. Fíli huffed unwillingly about her comment.
"That's enough, all right? I'm tired of him handling me like an old man and then he pretends as if he would understand how I feel!", he hissed, the rage pumped suddenly again through his veins.
Meanwhile his mother rose to her feet and dapped his foot moments later with a wet cloth. The whole time Dís remained silent, maybe she wanted him to calm down and therefore decided not to speak and her plan worked, for soon his wuthering emotions disappeared like they'd never existed. Instead he just felt terribly tired.
"Fíli", she started to speak and wrapped clean linen around his injured foot. "I can imagine that it must be frustrating to live suddenly with such an impairment, but you have to remember, that your brother has lost an arm and that the life isn't as easy for him, as it may seem to you."
Fíli thought someone must've punched him the gut. His breath seemed to settle in his chest and to never leave it again. Furthermore, he felt a tightness in his throat, which suppressed his voice, while his heart took up a racing speed.
"He's lost an arm?", he choked out.
But Kíli was an archer… Kíli loved his weapon… it would destroy him to never use the bow again…
"You didn't know?", his mother inquired astonished.
Fíli shook his head slowly. An unbelievable weight suddenly on his shoulders and ready to wrestle him down. Why hadn't his brother talked to him about it? And now that he thought it through, he actually realized that his brother had always stayed at Fílis left side. All of a sudden a similar desperation tried to overwhelm him, like the one he'd felt, when he'd awoken for the first time after the battle. Kíli had attempted to help him and kept his own wounds a secret and Fíli had been so self-absorbed, that he'd allowed all of this to happen! Why hadn't he sensed that something was wrong? It couldn't only be due to the blindness, after all, Kíli had been at his side for months!
"According to Óin his left arm was beyond remedy. Comminuted because of some kind of war hammer. The blood accumulated in his arm and he would have died, if his arm wouldn't have been amputated", the voice of his mother quivered lightly and Fíli didn't need to see her, to know that there would be tears shining in her eyes.
A sudden wave of nausea overcame him. He hadn't even the slightest idea that, for a while, it looked rather bad for his brother. How much strength it must've cost him to sit every day and night at Fílis sickbed, although Kíli was barely able to stand on his own feet? And he'd felt disturbed by the presence of his brother! Fíli had to make his outburst up to Kíli, he had to apologize! But as soon as he tried to push himself up, his mother pressed him determinedly back down at the soft mattress.
"Don't even think about it", Dís ordered sternly.
"But I have to find Kíli! I need to apologize! I need to know, why he never told me!", it blustered hectically out between his lips and he tried again to hurry to his feet, only to fail anew because of his mother.
"How do you imagine to do it?", Dís sharply demanded to know and Fíli winced by hearing her voice. "It's not just, that you don't want to give your foot a chance to heal, how are you going to find your brother? You will get lost inside Erebor and in your condition you could just walk past him, if he decides that he doesn't want to talk to you."
No physical blow would've been able to hit him harder, than the curt manner his mother described his state with. Of course she was right, but it only made it worse. He couldn't deny that he depended on the help of other people, whether he liked it or not. From now on there would be things he could never manage again and so much more, which he couldn't face up alone. He might be able to find his way around the mountain, but it would probably take him years, because he'd never been braced himself for such a life. Frustrated he clenched his fists, his angry tears were absorbed by the blindfold.
"As for the why", eventually Dís drew wearily on, after she'd given him some time, so he could digest her harsh explanation at least rudimentarily. "It's actually quite obviously. I should've figured it out sooner. Think Fíli, why would your brother keep it a secret?"
Fíli swallowed with difficulty, his throat suddenly dry as dust. She was right, he knew the answer. After all he'd gotten seventy-seven years to find out, how his brother worked. In some areas Kíli was so simple that it broke Fílis heart.
"He didn't want to burden me with it. He thinks I struggle already enough with my blindness." His lips quivered dangerously, while he whispered those words softly. "Fool", he sobbed.
Shaking, he gasped for air and dug his fingers in his hair. It wasn't to his liking, to show this weakness to his mother. He knew that it must hurt her to see him in such a way and the last he wanted, was to cause her even more grief. He'd managed to keep his tears at bay when Thorin died and hadn't wept over the loss of his sight, but the knowledge about Kílis condition seemed to cut so much deeper than everything beforehand.
An arm was wound gently around his shoulders and his mother rubbed his upper arm soothingly. Fíli focused on this gesture, trying to banish the tremors from his body and to wrestle the tears down. He swallowed past the tightness in his throat and loosed at the same time his clenched fingers bit by bit from his hair. Stay strong, he hammered into his mind, if not for himself, then at least for the sake of his mother.
"Rest", she requested worriedly and Fíli followed her suggestion hesitantly by crawling under the blanket.
"If you see Kíli, can you tell him I'm sorry? And that I want to talk to him?", he asked hurriedly. Actually he intended to grasp her wrist and hold her back, but needless to say his hand found only empty space.
"Of course", she assured him in a soft voice.
A bit later, but not without picking up the shards, cleaning the floor from the spilled meal and instructing him again to rest, his mother left the chamber. It was not until the absolute silence – only disturbed by the steady beating of his heart, his nearly inaudible breaths and the occasionally rustling of the sheets when he moved – that he was able to understand the whole extent of his exhaustion. His blindness, Thorins death and his angry emotional outburst left his inside sore, almost as if his soul could start bleeding, should he be faced with another enfeebling occasion and he hadn't even spoken to Kíli yet. It was this exhaustion that lulled him to sleep, instead of the want for it.
His dreams brought him no piece. At the battlefield he was anew confronted with the hopeless situation in which he wasn't able to defend his uncle. But this time he couldn't even protect his brother from the fatally orc-mace. A distant part of him knew that it had to be a dream, for he remembered how he'd managed to yank Kíli aside, before the terrible weapon found its target. However, the most superficial part of his mind could only see how his brother fell lifeless to the ground. He heard himself scream, until his throat hurt, but he was condemned to watch. His legs disobeyed and before his eyes everything perished, that had driven him to the journey to Erebor.
"No! Kíli! Kíli!"
His voice cracked, went shriller and shriller each time he yelled his brother's name. Desperately he fought against the heaviness in his legs, but any attempt was in vain. Instead the mace moved down again and again at Kílis defenseless body. In the eerie silence, which surrounded him, Fíli only heard the nauseating noise of the weapon that maltreated his brother, until the figure beneath the armor turned bit by bit into a bloody pulp.
"Stop!", he screeched out his despair.
Why wasn't he able to move? Why was he condemned to remain at this place? Why wasn't he able to protect his brother?
His stomach seemed to turn. Who could be so cruel and strike his opponent so continuously, until only the bloody hair identified the figure as Fílis brother?
"Fíli!", finally a panicked cry rescued him from the terrible sight.
With a sound, that Fíli wasn't able to construe in his own ears, he woke with a start, just to be greeted by complete darkness. His whole body was sweaty and shook out of fear. His heart was racing and seemed incapable of calming down, while in his mind's eye the mace flailed again and again and again at Kílis defenseless body. He sobbed, couldn't banish the image of the bloody pulp that had once been his brother. His stomach lurched. But by refusing his last meal only a dry retch escaped him, before he choked on it, coughed and sobbed all the harder.
Kíli! Where was his brother? It had to be a dream! This couldn't be the reality! He needed his brother! Needed a proof!
Only then, little by little, he became aware of the voice, which talked insistently to him. Only then he became aware, that he leaned against someone and that the same someone rubbed his back gently, while Fíli sobbed and sobbed and the blindfold above his eyes turned damp by all the tears. And only then he became aware, that he knew the voice.
"I'm okay, Fíli. Everything is all right. It was just a dream."
Kíli repeated his words as long as Fíli fought against the panic. Fílis roaring thoughts understood that his brother talked to him, but it couldn't diminish the fear in his heart. He had to see him! He had to ensure, that he was well, that he had nothing in common with the bloody pulp of his nightmare. Instead he met darkness. But by Mahal, he had to see him! He would go insane! His hands tore roughly at the damp blindfold, unable to undo it, until he whimpered distressed.
Not a moment later a hand covered one of his in a firm, but not painfully, grasp and everything Fíli could do afterwards, was cling to the other body, like he would never let him go again.
When Fíli finally calmed down, he'd lost track of time. It didn't matter if they sat here for minutes or hours or days. Everything that mattered was his mind, which realized at last that Kíli was still with him, even though his heart still wanted to break under the knowledge, that he wouldn't see his brother ever again. He felt more drained than before his sparsely restful sleep and would've liked to close his eyes anew – although it made no difference with the darkness that surrounded him.
Instead he lifted his arm with some difficulty, placed his fingers at first on Kílis left shoulder and guided them downwards until he found the stump only a palm later. He instantly felt Kíli tense under Fílis careful scanning. It was a weird feeling, to suddenly notice the sleeve of the tunic, where rather an arm should be.
"You should've told me", Fíli informed his brother in a kind manner, anxious to keep the rebuke out of his words. "You shouldn't have to deal with it all by yourself."
"Fíli-", he started in a husky voice.
"Your life is as precious as the life of every other dwarf. When will you finally treat yourself like it?"
Fíli knew where Kílis recklessness came from. His little brother had always believed that he'd to prove himself, if not to Fíli, then it was Thorin and if even their uncle dropped out, Kíli tried to compare himself with the views of other dwarves. It destroyed him, because he never got the appreciation he wished for and why should he? No one demanded of Kíli to prove himself, therefore he never received praise but rebuke for his boldness. In the last months Kíli had done it all the same, belittle himself, for he'd attempted to help Fíli rather than respect his own needs.
But he knew better than to discuss this case further, for otherwise it would escalate into an argument and it would be no good for the both of them, especially after Fílis emotional outburst. Besides, they'd already enough wounds that needed to heal.
"How do you manage?", he asked instead.
In place of an answer Kíli moved away from him and brought a distance between them. Fíli assumed that it was a reflex. As long as he could remember his brother had disliked being stared at, when he talked about things, which bothered him. That this behavior was now completely unnecessary in Fílis presence hadn't wandered in his head so far.
"I'm not entirely used to it", Kíli informed him honestly and Fíli could almost see how uneasy his brother would rub the back of his neck at the moment. "Sometimes I want to pick something up with my left hand and then I realize once again, that I don't have it anymore."
Fíli fumbled awkwardly for the hand of his brother and squeezed it encouraging as soon as he found it. Kíli returned the action and squeezed his fingers soon so tight that it hurt, but Fíli said no word about it. His brother had been by his side for months, the least he could do, was to give him the security he so openly searched for.
"But mostly it hurts now not at all."
"Mostly?", he inquired puzzled.
"I-", Kíli began, but paused shortly afterwards. He took a deep shaking breath, before he was able to speak on. "It's stupid, to be honest. I bet something is wrong with me. You will think me crazy, when I tell you", he blustered nervously out.
"Kíli", Fíli interrupted him firmly, ere the other could go on. "It's all right. I'm neither going to judge you, nor make fun of you", he promised. They were siblings and so they would tease each other with a strong liking. But on the one hand, Fíli was in their current situation not in the mood for joking and on the other hand, they hadn't made fun of the other since the gold sickness afflicted Thorin.
"I… I was in pain, sometimes I still feel this… this twinge in my elbow", Kíli fell suddenly silent after he'd uttered the words, only to add in the next moment hurriedly: "I know, it's ridiculous! How can something hurt that isn't even there anymore? I told you, you would think, that I've gone crazy."
Kílis hand in his own trembled disturbingly.
"I don't think you're crazy", Fíli answered immediately. That Kíli was completely sane had shown him the last months without difficulty and he couldn't imagine, how Kíli had lived with the burden on his shoulders and was at the same time able, to act like all was well. For how could someone ease that kind of pain Kíli had to suffer from?
"Maybe… maybe a part of you hasn't realized, that your arm is gone?", he considered, although he himself doubted such an explanation, but it was still better than to leave him to his self-doubts. "You told me the pain is mostly gone. Maybe it's a sign that your body is starting to comprehend it."
Kíli made a brooding noise, but said nothing more about the topic, he probably felt still uncomfortable, like he had at the beginning and Fíli didn't want to urge him or otherwise it could end in an argument as well. The silence occupied Fílis chamber once more and this wasn't for the dwarfs liking, for it was an awkward silence, in which they both didn't know, what should be said to break it. It was weird. Fíli wasn't able to remember one moment in his life, when he'd felt so uneasy in the complete silence between them. A chasm seemed to gape between them, although their fingers were still interlaced. Fíli swallowed hard. The silence, the darkness… they left him shivering.
"Tell me something about Erebor. How does it look like now?", he broke the silence, when he couldn't take it any longer.
Actually he was interested in the answer, because he'd only seen parts of the mountain and those under the devastation of Smaug. Kíli considered it a while, before he replied.
"It's magnificent. A large crystal is leading the sunlight into every corner of the mountain and so the stone shines like it is made of thousand sparkling gems. The markets are full of life. Everywhere are dwarves and at some places the laughing of the children echoes from the floor to the ceiling. A statue of Thorin adorns the main hall and the runes and ornaments, that decorate the stone, look like veins of gold. Erebor-", Kíli stopped, obviously thinking how he should go on. He sighed finally and shook his head so vehemently, that his whole body shuddered and even Fíli could notice it. "I don't like it here. The stone seems cold. I never felt small, but in those halls, among all those pomp, I feel like a nobody. The mountain his huger than I thought it would be, after everything Thorin told us about it, but I still feel like Erebor is going to crush me… I hate this place…"
"You could leave the mountain more often", Fíli suggested, in the full knowledge that Kíli had mostly lived for him in the last months, in the attempt to not leave him alone with his blindness. But Kíli needed another reason to live. He wasn't happy, that was for sure. His injury had a big part in it, although Fíli knew, that his brother could be much happier, if he wouldn't sacrifice his time to be incessantly by his side.
"And do what?", his brother snapped sharper than intended, for Fíli was able to feel, how he winced under his own words. "I can't hunt and I can't ride. And that were the only things that were fun without you."
Fíli had no words to cheer his brother up. Again he felt helpless, since he lost his sight there seemed hardly another emotion in him.
"That's not all", Kíli added, obviously detecting Fílis quandary and not letting him deal with it alone. "This place doesn't feel like home. I miss the Ered Luin, where we were just some dwarfs among many. Where no one would look at us, like we're damaged goods."
Fíli swallowed laborious past the tightness in his throat, on the one side relieved, that he never had to see those looks Kíli was disgusted by, but on the other responsible, that Kíli had to deal with them all on his own. And he would be lying in saying he thought different about Erebor. He could move within the Ered Luin. He knew every corner, every passageway, every hall. Over years he and Kíli had explored their home till the last corner, even in the surrounding lands Fíli would find his way better than in the halls of Erebor. Who was he trying to fool? This place wasn't his home. Stories at the campfire, songs about ancient wealth…, it did sound tempting in warm summer nights, but in reality it meant nothing. This mountain felt strange and even after months under these rocks his perception hadn't changed. He understood only too well, how Kíli felt.
"We could return, you know. Dáin doesn't really need us…", he noted hesitantly. "Turn our backs on Erebor, go home… visit Bilbo along the way", the latter he added with a small smile.
But Kíli just snorted.
"Yeah, of course", it slipped sarcastically out of his mouth. "We wouldn't even survive to reach Mirkwood."
Fíli couldn't deny his statement. He was blind and Kíli lacked an arm, should someone attack them in the middle of the street, their chances of survival would be pretty low. However, he was unwilling to get the thought off his mind because of this point. Surely there had to be ways and means to go home safely, even in their conditions. And if it meant to make a detour and follow the safely and much-used main roads, then they would do it. There was also another option.
"I heard Bofur thinks about going back to Ered Luin and pursue his old handwork. Now that he has his share of the treasure, he hasn't to work as a miner any longer and can be a toy maker again. Surely Bifur is going to accompany him. Maybe we could join the two of them?", the latter he left open to relinquish the answer to Kíli. For his brother had to find his own way to deal with his restricted life. For once Fíli would be the one, who followed his brother, instead of the reverse. Although he knew, that he had to point Kíli in the right direction, for the thing that restrained him from leaving Erebor, were his concerns for Fílis safety.
"Um… I don't know…", he muttered irresolutely.
It was for the first time, that Fíli realized that the battle took a part of his brother away from him. Never again would Kíli come up with reckless plans, the battle had scarred him too much to do otherwise. If he would ever be his carefree self again, was a question, he had no answer for and every uncertainty worried him deeply. Fíli swallowed gloomy. But if there was a place, he could never meet his old brother again, then it was this one, for sure. Erebor wouldn't ever feel right for both of them.
"I also know that Glóin wants to escort his wife and his lad personally. Have you ever wondered, why Gimli isn't here already?", he asked and thereby extended the list of dwarves, who could accompany them on their way back, in front of Kíli. "Nori was never someone, who stayed a long time at one and the same place, I'm surprised that he didn't go for a run yet", he added with a half-hearted laugh.
Kílis following silence seemed to cut in his heart. Once again Fíli cursed the loss of his sight. If he would at least be able to read his brothers features! He had forgotten how to move around Kíli and this fact hurt him deeply. It just felt wrong. They had been so close and now? With a frustrated sigh he rubbed the blindfold above his eyes. How was he ever going to live with this disability? Of course he knew how, Óin had told him many times that he needed to train his other senses, but assuredly it would take him years, until he would be able to understand his brother again, like he had been used to once. However, he had no years! Kíli needed him now! He'd left him already much too long to handle the burden on his shoulders alone.
"Surely Dwalin would accompany us, too. At least if we threaten to tell the story about his name day and Balins ruined documents", Kíli remarked so quietly and shyly beside him, that Fíli barely heard them, still he thought he could recognize a smirk in his voice.
"I don't believe I've ever seen Mister Dwalin that drunk before", Fíli entered into the memory to chase the tension from Kílis body, who was obviously worried that he'd said the wrong thing to their current situation.
"In the end he tripped over his own cloak", Kíli chuckled.
Snickering, Fíli joined the nearly foreign looking mirth.
"To be honest, I don't want to know, what he did in Balins study. That he wasn't able to go home and had to spend the night there, tells more than enough."
"I've never seen Balin turn so red with anger, when he searched for the culprit on the next afternoon."
And with the thought of the prudent dwarf in this kind of turmoil, Fíli could no longer control himself and burst into roaring laughter, which Kíli joined a moment after. It was the first time for a long period that they laughed together, strictly speaking, it was the first time for a long period that one of them laughed in general and suddenly it dawned on Fíli, how much he'd missed to hear his brother so carefree.
It took both dwarves longer than it should to calm down, probably due to the month, when they hadn't granted themselves even a bit of fun. Fíli gasped laborious for air, his abdominal muscles pinched already a little, but it was still the greatest moment he'd experience for a perceiving eternity.
"Well, what do you think? Should we go home?", he asked, breathing heavily.
"What of mother?", Kíli responded hesitantly, which Fíli commented with a smile.
"If someone understands, how it is to live at a place, that doesn't feel like home, then it is our mother."
And so they found themselves not two weeks later in front of the gate of Erebor. Fíli felt a bit queasy and he clutched tightly the reins of his pony, which Dwalin and Nori had helped him mount. Actually, he'd nothing to fear, his mare was tied to Kílis pony and he trusted his brother, but he still couldn't stop the uneasy feeling. He would rather walk the whole way, especially now, that he possessed a sturdy cane and had no longer to speculate, if he could trip the next second.
Dís hadn't liked to let her sons go after she'd just arrived, although, like Fíli had told Kíli, she'd understood their decision and encouraged them furthermore to hold on to it. Around his ears he could hear the other dwarves mounting, while a rustling close to him told, that Kíli had turned himself in the saddle to look at Fíli.
"Is everything all right?", he asked, undoubtedly sensing Fílis frame of mind.
Fíli nodded, he was not feeling fabulous in being at the mercy of his pony, but he would survive it.
"Don't worry", he answered more confident. "Ready for another adventure, brother?"
There is going to be a sequel to this story, which I will probably post in a few days.