The hours leading up to the funerals were chaotic at best. Dis was determined to drink herself into oblivion and her beau—a man scarcely several years older than Fili that arrived late to the island—was easily indulging her with drinks in the drawing room.

"It was a terrible accident," he—Simun, Fili reminded himself, the man's name was Simun—said, a tumbler filled with gin in his hand. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Fili had nodded, thanked the man, and promptly escaped the room.

Thorin had secluded himself in the study and someone had posted a note on the door in nice, curling letters that said: DO NOT DISTURB. When Fili walked by, he could make out the muffled tones of conversation, but nothing of what was being said. Everyone else had made themselves scarce, either in their rooms or overseeing something that needed to be done. Balin and Dwalin were out with Gandalf at the family burial grounds. Bombur was busy in the kitchen with Bifur and Bofur; Fili hadn't thought they needed to cater for something so depressing, but he discovered that though this was a private event, the list of people showing up was extensive.

"I don't even recognize half them," Kili said as he and Fili peeked out over the banister and into the front hall.

They had woken up in the morning feeling like strangers, and now they were both steadfastly ignoring their argument from the night before. It only added to the growing number of things that they weren't talking about.

"We do have a giant list of cousins," Fili replied. "I don't think I've ever met them all."

Kili laughed, dragging Fili with him as they moved away before they were spotted and roped into greeting people. "Our ancestors were busy," he said. "If you know what I mean."

"Brat," Fili said, frowning at the imagery that popped in his head.

They retreated to Kili's bedroom and it was the first time Fili saw the redesigned interior. It was almost identical to his own, with eggshell white walls and a large oak desk pressed against the far wall. The only difference was the bed; instead of a four poster bed, it was a simple wooden frame painted a deep brown on which a large, plush looking mattress lay. His sheets were rumpled and unmade and there was a suitcase in the middle of the room, opened, with clothes strewn about everywhere. His room was messy and there was a fond tugging at Fili's heartstrings at the sight.

"This is terrifying," Fili commented. "It's like a typhoon hit. How long have you been here?"

"Hey!" Kili exclaimed. "I was in a hurry this morning, jeez!"

Fili snorted, knowing that was hardly the truth. Kili was a natural morning grouch and didn't take kindly to early hours and thus oftentimes, he was slower than a snail going uphill on a cold day.

"Don't you have a set of clothes here? Why the luggage?"

Kili looked distinctly guilty at that. "Every time I came back, Grandpa or Great-Grandfather would ask me about you. I stopped coming back last year," he said. He quickly switched the subject before Fili could reply. "I was looking through the toy box and look what I found." He picked up a small, wooden knight situated on top of a horse from the dresser next to his bed. There were areas on the toy that the paint had entirely rubbed away from the many times it had been taken out to play. On the stiff tail of the horse there was a nasty chip in the wood from an unsalvageable accident years ago.

Fili had one just like that in his own toy box somewhere. He hadn't opened that chest in a long while; first, because he was no longer a child and second, because he didn't need another reminder of all the memories he had made and left behind. The toy knights on horses had always been a favorite of Fili's; he wasn't sure why, but he had played pretend with them for ages and even when he went to lessons with his tutors, he had put his little shining knight on his desk to watch him work. Kili wasn't as attached, Fili knew, but he liked them simply because Fili liked them and they had played knights and dragons often and late into the nights during their childhood.

Fili took the toy, nostalgia washing over him. Any sharp point on the knight was smoothed out by the maker and by time, and every scratch on it contained a memory of happiness. It wasn't until he turned the toy over that he noticed something different.

"Did you put this here?"

"What?" Kili leaned over Fili to see, his body so close to Fili's own that he could feel the warmth emanating from his brother like a furnace. It was intimate and impulsive and exhilarating all at once. He held his position, making sure they didn't touch unnecessarily and Fili showed him the mark on the bottom of the knight's heel. It was faded and worn, barely visible; carved into the wood was a mark shaped like an 'F.'

"Nope," Kili said. "I'd put a K, not an F."

"I'm not calling on your ability to spell," Fili said with a chuckle. "Although it's reassuring that you know the difference between a K and a F."

Kili laughed, wrapped his arms around Fili's middle, and with a fantastic heave, lifted Fili into the air. Fili shouted in surprise when Kili walked into the hall still holding him.

"Let me down!" Fili half laughed, half yelled, and squirmed against Kili's hold. "Idiot!"

Kili did, when he moved them outside of Fili's door. "You're heavier than you look," he said with a cheeky grin.

"I'm all muscle," Fili replied, rolling his eyes.

Kili looked like he wanted to reply, but his mouth opened and no sounds came out. His gaze, previously playful and sparkling with joy, turned to something deeper and heated. "I—" he managed to choke out and then shut his mouth. He blinked and looked to the door of Fili's room instead. There was something thick and tense in the air, an unspoken grief that had nothing to do with the funerals today.

"I know you loved that old knight," Kili said, clearing his throat. "Where'd you put it?" He didn't wait for a response before barreling inside and making a beeline for the toy box.

Fili released the breath that he was holding.

They found the toy at the bottom, along with the little red dragon that they'd always have the knights 'slay.' The dragon was less vicious than Fili remembered it to be, the once vibrant red now dulled and many of its once sharp teeth broken off and missing. Fili found himself smiling when Kili dug them up from the chest, bringing them proudly out into the daylight.

"I am Sir Knight Fili," Kili said in a mockery of Fili's own voice. He held up Fili's knight, just as worn from age as the one Fili had in his palm, and in his other hand, he held up the dragon. "I am here to kill you!"

Fili marched Kili's knight up to them. "I am Sir Kili the Dumbass," Fili said as Kili squawked in indignation.

It was a silly perversion of their childhood, but they kept at it—trying to slay a wooden dragon with foul language and imaginary weapons until someone cleared their throat, interrupting their laughter and escape from reality.

They looked up to see Dwalin staring down at them, an exasperated look on his face. "Boys," he said with a sigh and a shake of his head. "Hurry up and get dressed. I'll see you both downstairs."

Dis was openly sobbing for most of the funeral and Thorin was grim-faced as ever, even when delivering the eulogies. What gave him away was the slight tremble of his hands, which he deftly hid away from seeing eyes. The whole procession was long and strange for Fili; he was unable to muster tears or even grief for any of these deceased men. He knew them better than most of those that had come, but despite all that, when he removed himself from Erebor, he removed himself from his family. He was used to not seeing any of them, having no contact, that the funeral felt surreal.

There was no fanfare when the caskets were lowered into the ground, none of the ostentatious demonstrations that Thror had relished in when he was alive. Instead, the weather was bright and sunny despite the chill, and everyone gathered at the graves was mostly silent. There were many murmured condolences which Thorin accepted with terse nods and even terser words. Dis alternated between screaming incoherently at Thorin and burying her head in Simun's arms.

The headstones were slick and new, the words engraved into them feeling like a lie. Fili read their names over and over again and still nothing came to him. He'd lost more comrade-in-arms than he would have liked when he was still military, but that was different from this. He cried—his friends had cried—yet here he was, devoid of emotion.

Fili chanced a glance at Kili, who for all intents and purposes looked to be in a dark mood. Yet Fili couldn't feel the tension from him that normally accompanied it and he wondered if he was the only one who felt hollow and empty on the inside.

When the last bit of dirt was put to earth, people started to leave. Fili stood where he was, not sure if he should go or stay, but his feet refused to carry him anywhere.

"Did you know that the person who caught me leaving was Frerin?" Fili asked Kili when there were only stragglers left behind. Dis was weeping at Frerin's headstone, Thorin standing as still as a statue behind her. "He could have made me stay."

"No one told me anything," Kili said after a beat.

"That was the last time I ever saw him or spoke to him." He turned to face Kili. "I know he was a good person. He was a bit strange and a recluse, but his heart was always in the right place. It's weird that he's gone. They're all gone."

"You only found out a few days ago," Kili said. "I've known for over a week. You need time to digest the idea."

Fili gave it some thought. "Yeah," he agreed. "Probably."

They continued to stand in the afternoon light until only the four of them remained. The burying should have been hard, but the only thing that hurt was watching his mother cry and unable to do anything about it.

Dis eventually stopped. Her hair, previously held in place in a tight bun, was loose and flowed around her shoulders. Her face shone bright and wet and she wobbled as she stood, though Thorin was there immediately to help steady her. She laughed, a mixture of alcohol and despair, and said in an exhausted, wrecked voice: "You're my only brother now."

Fili couldn't even imagine how his mother was feeling. He had lost Kili once and that had been the most painful thing for him to live through, but if Kili was to die—to go away forever—he wouldn't know what to do. He'd be lost, just as he was and had been when Kili tore his heart in two, except there would be no healing from that.

"Mum," he said, stepping forward and feeling useless. "There's still us. You've got us."

Dis made a broken noise and wrapped her arms around him. "Fili. Fili," she said as if every syllable was a great effort to speak. "If there is one thing that I'm grateful for, it's your homecoming. You're back." She squeezed him tightly and he returned it. She gave a great heave of breath and let him go, turning to Kili. Instead of embracing him, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Oh, my boys are together again." For a moment, she smiled.

And just like that, the rest of her words were choked off by wracking sobs. She pulled away from them to face Frerin's grave.

"Go back to the house," Thorin said quietly. The lines of his mouth were drawn tight and the pallor of his skin was unusually light. "I'll take care of your mother."

Fili nodded reluctantly; maybe they need some time alone. They were Thorin and Dis' immediate family and the ones that knew them best. He wasn't helping by being out here, he told himself, and if Thorin wanted to speak with Dis alone, then who was he to stop him?

"Call if you need us," he replied.

He motioned to Kili with a nod and the two of them left the graveyard together. When they were a distance away, Kili glanced back, and then heaved a great sigh.

"That was depressing," he said, raking a hand through his hair.

"No shit," Fili replied.

Dinner was a somber thing to witness. While the Durin Estate was large enough to accommodate crowds, the atmosphere within was suffocating. Fili escaped back to his room the moment saw that no one was paying him any attention, bringing his plate of food with him. He shut the door and sat on the bed, balancing his plate on his knee. Scattered around the mattress were the toys that he hadn't put back into his toy box.

The two knights were in the middle of squaring off against the dragon, sitting lopsidedly on top of the blankets. Fili ate his food, watching the silent battle.

He had scarcely been alone for five minutes when his door opened and without any preamble, Kili came in, shutting the door behind him with his foot. He had two empty wine glasses in one hand and a bottle of scotch in the other.

"Cheers," he said, handing one of the glasses to Fili.

"My door was shut," Fili said, nonetheless accepting the glass.

Kili shrugged and joined him on the bed. "I saw you leaving. If you weren't going to stay, I wasn't going to stay." He popped opened the bottle of scotch and poured them both some.

"Where'd you get this? I hope you didn't steal this from Mum's stash," Fili said. "Or Thorin's. They really like their alcohol."

Kili rolled his eyes. "You think I don't know that? I asked Bombur to get a bottle the next time he went to the store."

Fili sipped the drink and scrunched his face. He had never liked alcohol when he was younger, even when his schoolmates were smuggling drinks into tinted water bottles to drink in class. It didn't matter if he had an empty stomach or not, anything alcoholic went straight to his head. It didn't make drinking with any of his military buddies as hard as he had imagined it to be; they were forgiving and never forced him to go beyond his limit.

"Didn't bring a chaser?"

Kili shrugged. "Did you need one?"

Fili shook his head and set his glass down on the flat surface of the dresser. He returned to eating and Kili remained at his side, drinking silently.

He had entirely missed this juncture of Kili's life, the transition of a boy becoming a man. The Kili he remembered had always been awkward in suits and was forever running around on tireless energy, but this one, the one sitting on the bed next to him, was tempered in a way that Fili couldn't reconcile with. This Kili filled out his suit nicely, had stubble growing on his jaw, and actual muscle definition. His brother had grown attractive while he was away.

Not that Kili had ever been unattractive, even when covered in mud and soaking wet.

He couldn't remember when it had happened, but he could pinpoint the day they first kissed. Fili, Kili, and Dis had moved out of the Estate and were living in the Bristol flat at the time. The day had been indistinguishable from any other day except for the fact that Kili had been upset about something and refused to talk to anyone. Fili—on the cusp of seventeen—had sat down at Kili's desk while Kili moped on his bed, and demanded to know what was going through his brother's thick skull.

"None of your business," Kili had muttered into his pillow. "And you suck."

That provoked a small fistfight that Dis eventually broke up and told them to sort it out before dinnertime, else they get no food.

"Sorry," Fili said, petting Kili on the head. "I didn't mean it."

Kili looked up at him, his dark eyes opened wide. "Yeah," he said. "You don't suck."

Fili grinned and as he was about to press a kiss to the crown of Kili's head, Kili moved. Instead of the top of Kili's head, he found Kili pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. It was soft and warm and quick and very, very terrifying. He hadn't known what to say, just stared at Kili, frozen in place. He didn't even have a chance to brush it off as an accident because Kili was pressing another chaste kiss against his mouth.

Fili had, in one word: freaked.

This was his brother—his little brother—the one that looked at him like he hung the moon, the little brother that cried when Fili went for his first day of secondary school because he thought that Fili was leaving forever. It was Kili, the one who loved Fili unconditionally, that when they fought, would always try to make things better somehow, even when it was Fili's fault.

But it wasn't because they were brothers. Fili was horrified to find that he didn't mind. He didn't mind one bit.

Kili had smiled, tiny and uncertain, and Fili knew he couldn't say no; that was the tipping of the scales, the moment he was forfeit.

Kili must not have felt the same because several years later Fili was watching him fall in love with a slender, attractive, dark-haired girl.

"Why are you so quiet?"

Fili looked to Kili, who was surveying him with an arched eyebrow. He had undone his tie, letting it drape around his neck, and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. In his hand was his glass, nearly empty of scotch.

"We buried people today. I'm allowed to feel something for that."

Kili made a noise, neither disagreeable nor agreeable. He poured himself some more scotch and Fili watched as he drank. Kili was a better drinker than he was. He probably inherited that from Dis.

"What went on while I was away?" Fili asked, setting his emptied plate aside. He picked up his glass and took a large swallow, feeling the alcohol burn its way down the back of his throat and into his belly. "What did you get up to?"

Kili shrugged. "Didn't Thorin or Mum tell you?" he asked snappishly, not meeting Fili's gaze. "I don't know why you're asking me now."

"They told me nothing about you," Fili replied. "Not specifics anyway, beyond that you were doing fine and getting on without me."

"Oh."

Kili stared into his glass like it had an answer for Fili, but even when he drained it and poured himself more, he said nothing. Fili was still nursing his first glass and he could already feel that last gulp of alcohol slowly working through his body. He was warmer than before and he felt relaxed.

"I don't want to talk about it," Kili said finally. "Here, drink more."

He refilled Fili's half-emptied glass.

"What did you do in the military?" Kili asked. "Five years means you've got some story or other to tell."

Fili took another sip. "I'm under contractual obligation to not talk about it," he said, which was a half-truth and half-lie. There were things he wasn't allowed to talk about to civilians, but it wasn't like his stint in the military had been filled with secrets. Mostly it had been training and waiting and when combat happened, it was brutal and quick and not worth remembering or talking about.

Kili nodded slowly. It was less in agreement and more of an action of just moving his head. He leaned against one of the posts and propped his feet up onto the bed, his toes brushing against Fili's thighs.

They drank until the bottle was gone, Kili having consumed most of it. Fili was still nursing his third or fourth refill when Kili moved from his spot, nearly spilling scotch onto his bed. He plucked the glass from Fili's hands delicately and set it aside.
"Kili," Fili started to say when he was shushed.

"I'm sorry," Kili murmured, cupping Fili's face with his hands. They felt cool against Fili's face, which were red and flushed from the alcohol. He could practically feel the color beating in his cheeks and at the touch of Kili's fingertips, the sensation dulled until all there was were Kili's hands.

When Kili kissed him, it was heated and desperate and painful to bear. Fili couldn't turn away, whether from the alcohol or his own volition.

"You're drunk," Fili protested against Kili's lips, his voice sounding far away to his own ears.

Kili chuckled and pressed more kisses into his skin; the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his jaw, his throat. "Not drunk," Kili murmured, his words vibrating against Fili's neck. "Just liquid courage. I notice you're still incapable of drinking."

Fili attempted to swat him across the head, but Kili caught him by the wrist and pressed a kiss to the exposed skin, sending a rush of heat straight to Fili's groin. He couldn't think, his head was swimming in circles, and Kili undoing the buttons to his shirt was a godsend. His own fingers were working sloppily at removing Kili's clothes, using the utmost care and restraint to not just tear them from Kili's body.

He knew precisely the moment when Kili discovered the scar.

Kili had pulled back, a frown on his face. He yanked the shirt open wider and pushed away Fili's fumbling hands. Fili could hear Kili swallow as he looked at the thing which marred his chest. The scar was small, the skin around the wound puckered and wrinkled from healing, though what remained was splotchy in color and deeply pockmarked compared with the rest of his skin.

"This wasn't serious," he said, voice tight as he echoed the conversation of yesterday. "What do you mean it wasn't serious?" He ghosted over the long-healed wound with his fingers and then pressed down on it with his palm, hiding it from sight. "It could have been very serious. Your kidney or even your lung. Why did you not say anything? Why didn't you tell anyone?"

Fili sighed. "I didn't die," he said crossly.

Kili made a strangled noise. "Were you looking to die?"

Fili looked at him carefully, considering.

"Maybe," he said and he probably deserved the punch that came next.

The next day started early. Fili was accustomed to waking at seven and making his way to the mess hall for food, but by the time he made it to the dining room, almost everyone had already eaten and left. The only stragglers at the table had been Gimli, Kili, and Ori. No one commented on the state of either Kili or Fili's faces, just furtive glances between Gimli and Ori, and muttered 'good mornings.' The moment Fili took a seat, Gandalf appeared with Bilbo blinking blearily behind him.

"Are you still glued to that thing," Gandalf sighed impatiently, glaring impressively at Gimli who was still texting, and then swept out of the room, Bilbo at his heels.

"Who's he talking to anyway?" Fili whispered.

Kili grunted and shrugged, avoiding making eye contact, but Ori was a little more forthcoming with an answer: "It's some bloke from school. He used to be all Gimli complained about and now they're like the best of friends."

Fili raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. He ate his omelette and drank his coffee in relative silence when Bilbo came striding back into the room, a little notepad between his hands. He was chewing on the end of a pen as he grabbed a coffee and dumped a copious amount of milk and sugar into it until it was a creamy color that no longer resembled the dark brew. It wasn't until he had his first sip that he looked up from scribbling, seeming to realize where he was and who he was with.

"Erm, hello, good morning," he said. Ori nodded shyly, always one to prefer books over people; Kili grunted something into the hot cereal he was mulling over; Gimli gave a wave, though he quickly returned to his phone when it buzzed.

Fili smiled back. "Morning. What's that?" He nodded at the notepad.

"Notes," Bilbo said with a little sigh as he sipped at his coffee. He tucked it away into his pocket, out of sight. "How's your first day being home? Aside from all the, erm—" Bilbo stopped himself abruptly. "Sorry, what happened to your face?"

"Nothing," Fili lied smoothly.

Bilbo wasn't convinced. "Was there a fight?" He looked so honestly concerned that Fili felt his cheeks heat in embarrassment and from his seat across the table, Kili coughed indiscreetly. "Are—are the two of you alright?"

"It was nothing," Fili said, looking down at his half devoured omelette. "Sibling rivalry. Just a little disagreement between me and Kili."

"A little?" Kili muttered. "Are you seriously saying that after everything?"

Fili looked up to see Kili glaring at him, eyes dark and bloodshot. Fili glared back, but didn't rise to the bait. Kili pressed on, because he was always like that—toeing the line until he crossed it. Kili lived entirely in the moment, thinking he could take on the world. Fili admired and hated him for it.

"You're a selfish bastard," Kili said vehemently. He slammed the spoon in his hands down onto the wooden tabletop. "You do not get to pull this shit. Not now."

Nobody in the dining room moved. Gimli was staring wide eyed at Kili, phone tucked away in his pocket. Ori was scooted so far back in his chair that it seemed like he was trying to disappear into it and Bilbo was staring owlishly at Kili from over his coffee, clearly not expecting the explosive reaction.

"I don't want to talk about it here," Fili snapped.

"No!" Kili stood, the chair screeching against the floor. "You ran away last time and you disappeared for five fucking years! No, fuck you, I—"

Fili stood too, storming from the dining room, Kili on his heels. "Shut up," he said. "Just. Shut up."

He led them out to the gardens in the back where no one was likely to overhear them. It was chilly, the smell of the ocean wafting up with the morning breeze, and the flora around them beginning to turn from green to gold. Fili rarely came out here, except for a few occasions, but he knew his way around the expansive back gardens well enough.

In all the time he had gone, the place hadn't changed. The waist-high hedge maze was still properly trimmed and well maintained, still green despite the late season. Beyond it was a small stream that ran parallel to the house and occasionally, there would be birds or some other small critter from the mountain could be found bathing in it. Fili turned away from all of that and brought them to a secluded grove of trees some distance away from the mansion.

He paused a moment before rotating around to face his brother. The expression that Kili wore burned so fiercely that Fili could feel Kili's frustration standing where he was. It was only the downcast look in Kili's eyes that told Fili he was even an ounce remorseful.

"What the hell was that?" Fili snapped.

"You know what," Kili retorted.

Fili swallowed the angry words at the tip of his tongue and paced around the grove, breathing in the salty air to clear his head. He mentally counted to ten and looked up into Kili's eyes.

"I know you didn't mean it," he said thickly and Kili's expression lessened a fraction. He had always worn his emotions openly and Fili had been glad that Kili was such an easy read, but now, he wished that Kili wasn't so transparent. "But seriously? In the dining room? With other people there?" he hissed.

"That was bad judgment on my part," Kili admitted. "But I was…so mad." He licked his lips and stepped closer to Fili. "Maybe you were using your time away to—to get over me, but I was taking time to adjust to living without you. I didn't like it. I don't want you to go away again. I don't want you to die."

Fili shook his head, suddenly exhausted. "I don't want to die either," he said.
Kili sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. He looked as tired as Fili felt and his back was ramrod straight with tension.

"So, what now?"

There were a hundred different answers that Fili could have uttered, but when he opened his mouth, his voice disappeared and unbidden, the words formed in a soundless whisper: "If we do this, we start from the beginning."

Kili's brows furrowed in confusion.

"We start fresh," he said, heart pounding in his chest and blood rushing through his ears. "A clean slate."

Kili started forward, stopped; his mouth was pulled into a small, wane smile. "Okay," he said, breathless. "Yeah. I can do that." He held out his hand, palm facing upwards, waiting.

It was a simple gesture, yet all Fili saw before him the possibility of heartbreak and grief, but it was the warmth in his chest and the stubbornness in his veins that moved him to grasp Kili's hand with his own. He felt light headed and confused, elated and distressed and torn in two; Kili was the sole reason he came back—the whole reason he shouldn't have come back. Kili was going to break his heart anew and Fili couldn't stop himself now if he tried.

Fili smiled back. "Can we go back to breakfast without causing a scene?"
Kili nodded; "Yeah," he said under his breath as he bridged the space between them. "Yeah. Anything. Just let me—please—Fili—"

Kili let go of his hand to cup his face, the tips of his fingers trembling. They were warm against the skin of his cheeks, which had turned cold in the morning weather, and touched him with a reverence that dissipated all of his dark thoughts. Fili found his head being tilted upwards gently and lips pressing down to meet his own. It was inviting and breathtaking and so perfect that Fili closed his eyes and leaned in to it, relishing in the presence that was Kili, his brother, his other half.

He indulged this, letting Kili kiss him sweet and slow, until he felt Kili's hand moving to the back of his head to deepen the kiss.

He tapped at Kili's chin, finger running over the stubble there, and Kili made a noise in the back of his throat as he backed off. He pressed their foreheads together, eyes still squeezed tight.

Neither of them moved for the longest time, just standing and basking in each other's presence. Even though Kili could make him so angry at times, Fili had missed him. Even though he had been on the Estate for two days, it was only now that he felt like he had come home.

"I missed you so much, you ass," Kili whispered. "I would have gone with you."

Fili wanted to shake his head because back then, when their relationship had been so strained and he and Kili were fighting about everything, Kili had chosen someone else over him. But he said nothing on that and instead, touched the side of Kili's neck. "You got taller while I was away."

Kili's reply wasn't immediate. "I did. I had to grow up without you."

Fili patted Kili on his neck lightly. He didn't want to dwell on the subject. "Alright. Come on, breakfast. Everyone's probably wondering who's dead by now."

Kili laughed and finally opened his eyes, dark, glassy, and bloodshot. He still looked tired, though immeasurably happier and more cheerful than earlier. "Everyone knows that I've always outwrestled you," he said, letting go of Fili.

They walked back together, the tenseness of before gone. If Kili was walking too close, Fili said nothing on it and instead, let himself be drawn into the nonsense bickering that Kili started. When they got back to the dining room, Gimli and Ori were gone, and in their place was Thorin. He gave them both a critical look, muttered something under his breath, and rose from his seat.

"They're fine," he said to Bilbo, who was looking abashed. "Call me when there's an actual emergency."

Thorin swept from the room, the double doors shutting in perfect sync behind him.

"You told Thorin?" Kili asked the moment he was sure Thorin was out of earshot.

"I did not!" Bilbo objected, "I had only wondered if you two were going to be alright and your cousins were sure the two of you would kill each other and Thorin just happened to pass by and overheard and decided to go after you two if you weren't back in another five minutes—"

Fili laughed and clapped Bilbo on the shoulder. "Breathe," he said.

"Look," Bilbo raised both his hands into the air as he spoke, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up any bad blood between you two."

"Nothing to worry about," Fili assured him as he took a seat at the table, Kili grabbing his now cold and soggy bowl of cereal to move to the seat next to Fili's. "We worked out our differences."

Kili noticed that Fili was looking at him and smiled. "We're good now," he said. "We're the best we've ever been."

It took a great effort to tear his gaze away from his brother, but Fili did, and picked up his discarded fork. His omelette was cold and unappetizing, though he finished it in several bites. "We'll be fine," he told Bilbo after a while. "Thank you for your concern."

Bilbo was giving them strange looks, a slight frown etched on his face. His lips were pursed and he had a finger tapping at his temple as he thought whatever thoughts he had in his brain. After a long consideration, he nodded and said, "I'm glad you're on civil terms again." He gave them both a small smile, picked up his coffee cup, and left the room.

Thank you everyone for the kind words of support and reviews! :) And a special thanks to Weebatt for the amazing fanart, which can be viewed on her tumblr, under her username of Weebatt. It's gorgeous! I encourage everyone to go like it and tell her how wonderful she is.

Also, a great thank you to Scarlett Kingston for the beta work. She's so patient with me while poking holes into my work. Without her diligence and hard work, I wouldn't be able to write as well. THANK YOU SO MUCH!