Summary: Those who have died Watch what happen during the Battle of Five Armies
Genre: Family, Hurt/Comfort
Rating: K+
Characters: Thorin, Frerin, Fíli, Thrain
Total darkness surrounded him. At first Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Beneath the Mountain, was confused as to how he had ended up where he was but then he remembered; he had been felled by an orc-spear, the last thing he had seen had been the horrified looks in the eyes of his two young nephews. From a distance away, he could hear voices and when he turned his head in their direction he could see a faint light, he stood and slowly walked towards it. What he saw nearly took his breath away – or would have if he were not already dead – for gathered around a strange contraption was all of his dear ones whom he had long ago lost. There was his grandfather, no longer affected by the Dragon Sickness, there was his father, and there – looking like the proud dwarf warrior he had never had the chance to be while alive – was Frerin, dear baby brother Frerin, who upon seeing his beloved older brother gave a yelp of joy and ran over to throw his arms around Thorin.
"I've missed you." Frerin mumbled into Thorin's shoulder.
"And I've missed you." Thorin whispered in return. "I've missed all of you so much." Looking over Frerin's shoulder, he looked at Thror and Thrain who both smiled at the sight of the two brothers who had finally been reunited. However, a despaired cry quickly turned everyone's attention back to the contraption.
"NO!" Gnér, the father of Fíli and Kíli, yelled horrified. "NO! NO! NO!"
Looking into the contraption Thorin saw, as if from very far above, the battlefield outside Erebor; he saw his own dead body – a very strange experience – and there, to his horror, he saw Kíli lying pale-faced on the ground while a short distance away Fíli was fighting; caught up in a kind of frenzy. He fought bravely, the oldest son of Gnér and Dis, but even for a warrior as strong and skilled as he was against an entire horde of orcs he stood no chance. Far too soon, he was felled by a giant orc-sword and, with his last strength; he crawled over to lie down next to his dear baby brother.
Almost in the same instance as Fíli had drawn his last breath down on the battlefield the sound of a pair of boots was heard approaching the chamber, and shortly after he entered, strong, golden, and proud, no longer covered in the signs of battle.
"Welcome, my son." Gnér said, walking over to embrace his – still shaking – elder son.
"Has Kíli…?" Fíli whispered.
"No." Gnér replied, and then hope suddenly appeared in his eyes. "Everyone else always arrive as soon as they're killed, if Kíli hasn't arrived yet, then…"
"He may yet live." Thorin whispered, and now he too dared hope that Kíli, reckless brave Kíli, would survive this. Survive and take up the crown that was now rightfully his, the crown Thorin knew he wear with honour.
Once again, everyone turned their attention to the contraption and looked on as the tide of battle was turned and the orc army defeated.
"What is this thing?" Fíli asked.
"We're not entirely sure." Frerin replied, "But it allows us to see what happens to our kin who still lives. Not all the time, mind you."
"I see." Fíli said, the twinkle returning to his eyes, "We wouldn't want to spy anyone on the loo."
Despite the seriousness of the situation the room soon echoing with the roaring laughter of the group.
"Look!" Thrain yelled, getting the attention of everyone back to the scene playing out down in the world of the living; some of the men of Laketown found the bodies of Thorin, Fíli and Kíli lying on the battlefield. The bodies of Thorin and Fíli were placed on shields and carried away – for men for each dwarf to show the prober respect – but when the men were about to show Kíli the same respect one of them suddenly yelled something. Unfortunately, for those watching they could only see what happened, not hear what was being said.
"Curse this!" Gnér muttered angrily, "I want to hear what they're saying!"
Everyone starred at the image below as the men of Laketown yelled something to each other before placing Kíli on a shield and then, rather than carry him away at a respectfully slow pace, sped as fast as they could towards the mountain.
When Dwalin saw them arrive like that, showing no respect for neither Kíli, nor Thorin and Fíli, he shouted angrily at them, with murder in his eyes. However, a quick shout in reply from one of the men carrying Kíli made his expression turn into one of hope.
Someone fetched Óin and while Thorin and Fíli were placed upon their place of honour to await their funerals, Kíli was brought to bed and the elderly dwarf spent a long time – how long those watching did not know – helping the young stubborn dwarf cling to life. Finally, he stepped outside the little room to where the rest of the Company had taken up guard. As soon as they saw him, everyone jumped up and looked at him eagerly nobody spoke, there was no need, understanding the silent question much better than he would have understood a spoken one, Óin simply smiled and nodded.
"He'll live." Fíli whispered the relief clear in his voice. "I'll miss him and I suppose he'll miss me too but… he lives!"
"You suppose he'll miss you?" Frerin asked with amusement in his voice. "Let me tell you something, Fíli; I've been keeping an eye on you two for as much as I could ever since you were born, and Kíli has always worshipped the ground you walked on. I should know, being a younger brother myself." He beamed up at Thorin who smiled proudly in return.
"You think he'll manage?" Fíli asked after a while "As king?"
"I think he'll do just fine." Thorin replied. "In fact; I think he might be a better king than I could ever be."
"I'm glad you have faith in him but are we talking about the same Kíli? The Kíli who thought it would be a brilliant idea to 'borrow' Dwalin's great axe so he could use it as a 'pony'."
"Dragging the heave axe-head after him so a deep trench was made in the ground." Thorin added, smiling at the memory. "Yes, Fíli, I'm talking about exactly the same Kíli. Sure, sometimes he might be a bit reckless but he never knowingly does anything to hurt people, and I know that he would always put his people before gold and jewels."
It was true, Fíli thought to himself, while Kíli was fascinated by gold and jewels, of course he would be, he was a dwarf, he never placed it above people. One time he had even allowed little Mín to keep his favourite hair-clip simply because the girl – who had yanked in out of his hair quite painfully – would not stop crying when her parents had tried to take it from her.
"I'm proud of you, baby brother. " Fíli whispered, looking into the contraption at the pale form of his younger brother who was sleeping peacefully in the bed. There would be much sorrow and many trials for Kíli, but he was alive, and he would lead their people as the king he rightfully was.
