After the failure of his attempt to communicate with Kili, Bilbo passed the time until Fili arrived back talking to himself. Talking made him feel a little better, and since his choice of conversational partners was rather limited, he resolved to do what he could with what he had available. He sat a few feet away from the tree where Kili was tied, Sting across his knees and Fili's sword laid out before him, and looked up at the stars, telling himself that it was just a lovely night out, away from home, an adventure and no mistake.
"Bilbo, my lad," he said, "it's a fine night to be camping under the sky. Finer still once dinner arrives. Look, Earendil sails across the sky! I somehow always feel safer to know he is watching over me."
Talking certainly made Bilbo feel better, but it did not completely vanquish his feelings of unease. He knew without looking that Kili had resumed his silent staring, and wished uncomfortably that he would go back to hanging his head and fixing his eyes on the ground as he had for most of the day. Bilbo could not understand what he had done to merit this fixed attention, but he was sure that it meant nothing good. As time stretched on and Fili still did not return, Bilbo became unpleasantly aware that his voice was taking on a slightly high-pitched note, and that he was talking faster than seemed necessary. His nerves felt scraped raw by the feel of eyes on him.
"Who are you talking to?" came Fili's voice from the darkness, and Bilbo almost swallowed his own tongue in surprise. Fili emerges, two rabbits swinging from one hand and a bowl in the other. "Mr. Baggins?" he asked, glancing at Kili. "Were you talking to my brother?"
"Why would I do that?" Bilbo snapped. "He wouldn't understand anything I say. Those orcs have chased all the wits from his head."
He was sorry before he'd even finished speaking the words, but of course it is all very well to regret what you have done but very much harder to un-do it. Fili had stopped still in the middle of the hollow, the only movement now the rabbits still swinging slightly. His face was shadowed, turned away from the moon, and Bilbo could not see his expression.
"Master Fili," he started. "I didn't mean-"
"I know very well what you meant, master hobbit," Fili said. He did not sound angry, just exhausted. "But you are wrong. I know you are wrong."
He laid the rabbits down and went to his brother. Bilbo went, too, trailing behind and hoping that Fili was quicker to forgive than his uncle.
Kili had dropped his head again, Bilbo saw with some relief, those wide, disconcerting eyes hidden beneath the fall of his hair. He made no move as Fili approached, but seemed to press himself backwards into the tree when his brother knelt before him and raised the bowl towards his lips.
"Drink, brother," Fili said, but Kili turned his face away. "It is only water," Fili said. "It will make you feel better." But still Kili refused, turning his head so far from Fili that it must have strained his neck.
Fili sat back on his heels. "Why do you not look at me?" he asked, and laid the bowl aside, reaching out a hand to grasp his brother's face. Kili flinched back violently at the first brush of Fili's fingers on his chin, but even when Fili lifted his head and turned it back to face him, Kili's eyes were fixed determinedly on the ground.
Bilbo turned away, feeling that he was intruding on something not meant for him. Two days ago he had barely known this young dwarf, and now he wished that it could have been someone else here with him, someone who at least knew him, someone who had known his brother when he had still been whatever it was Fili was looking for. Any one of the dwarves would have done, for Bilbo was sure all of them had known each other for many years. And yet, here he was instead, the only stranger in the company. He had slipped out after Fili two endless days ago because he thought he might be able to help. But calling warnings and laying false trails was one thing - this was quite another.
He looked up at the moon, trying not to listen to Fili's strained voice asking his brother to drink, over and over. Eventually, though, it grew too much for Bilbo to bear, and he turned back, kneeling on the cool grass beside Fili.
"I'd like to help," he said. "If I can."
Fili paused in his recitation, pulling the water bowl from his brother's closed lips. "I am glad," he said.
Bilbo nodded. He was glad, too, if the merest lightening of the sick feeling he had had all day could be called gladness. "I don't know what I can do, though," he said.
Fili glanced from the bowl in his hands to his brother, and then back to Bilbo. "He will not take it from me, that's clear enough," he said. "But he must drink. Perhaps-" He paused, as if reluctant to say whatever was in his thoughts. "Perhaps he will trust you better," he said finally, as though with some effort, and held the bowl out to Bilbo.
Bilbo raised his hands. "Oh, no," he said. "Surely you don't think such a thing." The very idea was absurd, not to mention it involved Bilbo getting far closer than he wished to Kili's hard eyes and sharp teeth.
"I hope-" Fili said, and then seemed to shrink into himself a little, as he had the day he had told Bilbo he had no brother. "I only want him to drink," he said. "Please, Mr. Baggins. Will you at least try?"
Bilbo could hardly say no, not when he had offered to help. And it was, after all, only a small thing. He took the bowl from Fili and squared his shoulders, edging forwards until he could reach out and place it to Kili's lips.
"Drink, master dwarf," he said. "If you're too weak to run tomorrow, the orcs will eat you, and me and your brother with you."
Kili's eyes flicked up for just a moment, like little black stones in the darkness. Bilbo felt as though they were tunnelling into his soul. Then the little dwarf glanced sideways at his brother and back to the ground. But he did not turn his face away.
A cold feeling crept into Bilbo's heart. Perhaps Fili was right. As absurd as it sounded, perhaps Kili would obey him, nothing but a stranger, where he refused to even acknowledge his own kin. He wished it were not so, but if it was - If it was, then he had offered to help, and it was his duty to do all he could.
He cleared his throat. "Master Fili," he said. "I wonder if you would mind moving back a bit? Perhaps he's feeling a little crowded."
Fili, sitting on his heels in the grass, said nothing for a long moment. Then he nodded and climbed to his feet, walking with deliberate steps until he was lost in the shadow of the trees. Bilbo watched him go.
"Don't go far," he muttered, and then turned back to Kili.
"Now," he said. "Will you drink, you wretched creature? Or will we have to duck you in the river again to get some water into you?"
Kili raised his eyes from the ground, staring in the direction his brother had disappeared, and then looking back at Bilbo. Bilbo tipped the bowl a little, a few drops of water spilling down Kili's cheeks.
And Kili drank.
It was just a sip at first, so little that Bilbo thought he might just be imagining it. But then the sip became a swallow, and the swallow became a gulp, and then Bilbo could hardly tip the bowl fast enough to slake Kili's thirst. He drank as though he had been thirsty since the day he was born, and Bilbo found himself wondering just what it was that orcs drank and when was the last time the little dwarf had had good, simple water.
When the bowl was empty, Bilbo laid it down beside him. He did not miss the way Kili's eyes followed it, nor did he miss the way the little dwarf had begun to tremble, just a little, barely enough to make out in the moonlight. All of a sudden, there seemed nothing of the hard darkness that had made Bilbo so uneasy. There was only a shrunken little thing who wanted nothing more than a drink of water.
"Master Fili," Bilbo called quietly, and moments later Fili appeared, boots thudding softly across the grass. Kili dropped his eyes immediately, but the tremors still shook his shoulders.
"I think he wants some more," Bilbo said, holding out the bowl. Fili stared down at it and then reached out and gripped it with both hands.
"Did he drink?" he said wonderingly. "Truly?"
"Truly, and copiously!" Bilbo said, and was rewarded with a smile that made him feel as though all of this had been worth it. Fili shifted one hand to grip Bilbo's where he still held the bowl.
"Thank you, master hobbit," he said. "You have saved my brother's life again. I won't forget it."
Bilbo could not help but smile back, and then Fili stepped back into the darkness, taking the bowl with him.
"Well," Bilbo said. "The two of you are quite a handful."
He looked back to see that Kili was staring at him, and instead of glancing away, Bilbo stared right back.
"Whatever it is you're looking for, you're not going to find it in me," he said. "You should be looking at your brother. It seems he would do anything for you."
Kili just stared. Bilbo sighed. "You certainly have the stubbornness of dwarves," he said.
"More than most," Fili said, reappearing and holding the now-full bowl out to Bilbo. "Isn't that so, brother?"
But Kili had dropped his head, staring at the ground. Bilbo sighed, taking the bowl.
"It doesn't mean anything," he said to Fili. But when he looked round, the young dwarf had already melted away. Sighing again, Bilbo took the bowl and lifted it to Kili's lips.
"You know, he wants nothing more than to help you," he said, tipping the bowl. Kili strained forward, gagging slightly as some of the water caught in his throat, and Bilbo put a hand on the back of his neck.
"Not too fast, master dwarf," he said. "We don't want to see it come back up."
Kili's eyes flicked to him, then back to the bowl. Bilbo, meanwhile, found himself frowning, trying to understand what he felt under his fingers. There was the iron collar that sat snug around the dwarf's neck, certainly, but there were odd lumps on the back of it. Bilbo let his fingers follow the lumps down, until his hand was able to wrap around something thick and rough-feeling, warm from the heat of Kili's back.
A chain.
Meaning only to understand what his fingers felt, Bilbo tugged gently on the chain. He should probably have guessed that such an action would not have entirely pleasant results, but the quick fingers of hobbits are sometimes a little too quick for their brains to keep up. Kili made a choking sound and abruptly stopped drinking, the water running down his cheeks and over his chest until Bilbo hastily lowered the bowl and just as hastily pulled his fingers from the chain. Kili's head was lowering, eyes finding the floor, and Bilbo felt the tiny flame of victory that had lit in him with Fili's smile begin to sputter and die.
"No, no," he said, laying the bowl down and putting a hand on Kili's arm. "No you don't, Master Kili. I didn't mean to touch it, and I won't touch it again."
Kili was still, his head halfway down, as if he was trying to decide something. Bilbo saw his eyes dart sideways, peering at the hobbit from under his hair. Bilbo raised his empty hands.
"I won't," he said. "I won't do anything to hurt you." As long as you don't do anything to hurt me, he privately added.
Kili sank back a little against the tree. He was staring at Bilbo again, but less openly now, keeping his face half-hidden. Bilbo sighed and patted him on the shoulder, trying not to think too hard about the heavy, rusty chain concealed under the little dwarf's ragged clothes.
"We won't tell your brother about it," he said. "Not yet, anyway. I think he has enough to worry about."
Fili was tending a little fire when Bilbo made his way over. It was set in a hearth of upright stones dug into the earth, and the light was barely visible unless you knew it was there. For all their frustrations, dwarves were certainly ingenious at times.
"Well, he's not about to die of thirst, anyway," said Bilbo, seating himself on the ground across from Fili.
Fili nodded. "I am grateful, Mr. Baggins," he said.
"Yes, well," Bilbo said, feeling a little flustered. "I'm sure there's no need. After all, I've no doubt you'd rather be helping him yourself."
It was another thing said wrong, and Bilbo cursed his own thoughtless tongue as he saw the shadows deepen on Fili's face.
"That I would," was all the young dwarf said, but the tone in which he said it was rich with regret.
Bilbo sighed. "He's-" He stopped, because he honestly had very little idea of how to continue. He wanted to reassure Fili that all this would pass, but he knew the words would be hollow, and Fili no doubt knew it, too. Instead, he settled for changing the subject. "Do you think there are more orcs out there?"
Fili settled the rabbits over the fire. "No doubt," he said, as if the matter was not of the least concern to him.
"I see." Bilbo pondered the ground for a moment or two. "And if they should find us?"
Fili looked up, his eyes flashing in the firelight, and the look on his face had Bilbo shivering despite the heat from the flames. "They will wish they hadn't," he said.
None of them slept. Bilbo certainly tried, and the ground was soft enough certainly compared to some nights he'd spent since joining the company. But the strangeness of it all, the quietness after weeks of travelling with a pack of boisterous, snoring, food-flinging dwarves, made it oddly difficult for him to doze off. It was just his luck to finally get used to the constant racket only to find himself lost in the wilderness with the quietest dwarf in the company and his brother who could only speak in a tongue that no-one cared to hear. Some time after midnight, he found himself watching the stars wheeling overhead rather than even pretending to keep his eyes shut, and at last he turned to see Fili still sitting by the fire, gazing morosely into the flames.
"You should try and sleep," Fili said without looking his way. "Tomorrow will not be an easy day."
"It seems like no day is easy amongst dwarves," Bilbo said, although it wasn't true. There had been days - days in Rivendell, and days of slow travelling and no orcs or goblins to speak of - that he looked back on now with something like fondness.
Fili sighed. "No day has been easy for the children of Thror for many a long year," he said, and glanced over to where his brother sat, still tucked under Fili's coat at the base of the tree. Kili's eyes were lowered, but they were open - apparently he was finding it no easier to sleep than the other two. Fili looked back into the fire. "And I fear there is only worse to come," he said.
Bilbo sat up properly, giving up all hope of rest. "You haven't told me what happened," he said. Last night he had dismissed it as none of his business, but now that whatever had happened had resulted in them keeping company with a creature that seemed half fell beast and half pitiful wretch, Bilbo felt that perhaps it was his business after all.
"I suppose I owe you that much, and more," Fili said, but he seemed in no hurry to tell the tale. He watched the fire for some moments, until Bilbo wondered if he had lost his tongue.
But finally, Fili spoke. He did not look at Bilbo, and his voice seemed to come from far away. "We were travelling in the Blue Mountains," he said. "We have always been travelling, looking for work, looking for our home, looking for-" he broke off. "But in those days, we just wanted to make enough money to keep ourselves fed. There were nine of us, two families, and we had Thorin and Dwalin with us. We hadn't heard of any trouble and we thought that would be enough." He shook his head. "When the orcs came - there were so many of them. I tried to keep Kili with me, I tried to fight them, but he was ill, feverish with something, and-" He raised his hand to cover his eyes, as if he couldn't bear to see the memories dancing in the fire. "I lost him," he said, the words seemingly pulled from some deep well of grief. "I lost my brother."
Now that he was listening to it, Bilbo realised he no longer wanted to know the details, certainly not if it was going to cause such pain to his companion. It was clear enough - the orcs had taken Kili and his kin had understandably assumed he was dead. And instead of killing him, they had turned him into the poor creature that now sat a few feet away, eyes downcast but not asleep. Oh, there was pity indeed, both for the lost brother and for the one who had lost him! Bilbo could not imagine what months alone with those foul creatures could do to a soul - but he did not need to imagine it, for he had seen it with his own eyes.
"How long ago did this happen?" he asked.
Fili gave a deep groan and took his hand from his eyes. There were tears on his cheeks, Bilbo saw, and he looked away out of kindness, but Fili's next words made him look back, startled.
"Twenty-five years, master hobbit," said Fili. "It has been twenty-five years."
"I'm sorry," Bilbo said. "Did you say years?"
Fili didn't answer, but Bilbo turned to look at Kili and found those black eyes watching him again. Twenty-five years.
It was a wonder there was anything left of him at all.