A/N: Hello, beautiful people! A BIG THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED LAST CHAPTER! I – I don't even know what to say to you. I think I have the best readers in the universe! Thank you so much! You guys made me smile throughout this entire week! I'm so sorry about taking so long to update – school and work suck. But I promise I am not abandoning this story. It's just going to take me longer than usual to update. So, of course, the more reviews I get, the harder I will try to find time to write, and the faster you get an update. Also, thank you everyone who subscribed and favorited! I hope you all enjoy this chapter…I'm not very fond of it, so please tell me what you think!

Just A Dream

Thorin sat with his pipe in one hand and his axe on his knees, stroking the blade with the other, staring into the fire. A cup of strong black coffee was on the table behind him, but he made no movement to reach for it. All he wanted to do was pray to Aulë that his sanity lasted until Dis returned home in the evening. Lovable though his nephews were, sometimes he wanted to tie them to separate chairs and leave them each in a corner, facing the wall.

A yawn behind him made him turn, and he saw Fili rubbing his eyes in the doorway, his golden hair mussed from sleep. "Morning, Fili," Thorin said, watching the dwarfling's eyes brighten instantly.

"Good morning," Fili sang out, running barefoot over to his uncle. "Wow!" His little hands reached out for the axe, but Thorin pulled it out of the boy's reach.

"Fili," he said, his tone a warning.

"Can't I just touch it?" Fili pleaded. "Please? Just once?"

"Fine," Thorin relented, "But don't touch the blade. I just sharpened it."

Fili ran a finger over the smooth wood of the handle, over the runes engraved in it, and over the royal crest before letting the palm of his hand drift over the axe's head. "Did you make this, Uncle Thorin?"

"Yes."

"Will you teach me?" Fili asked eagerly, and Thorin smiled in spite of himself.

"Yes, Fili, I will. When you're old enough." Thorin glanced out the window – dark clouds were gathering overhead. Leaning forward, he stoked the fire, not wanting Fili to fall sick from the cold. The boy was still barefoot, for Aulë's sake! "Fili," he began, and then realized something. Only Fili was with him…"Where's Kili?"

"Asleep," Fili answered promptly.

Thorin raised his eyebrows. "He follows you around everywhere, but he's asleep?"

"He's impossible to wake up," Fili complained. "Mum always makes me do it because he won't even listen to her. I think Kili could sleep through an orc raid!"

"I hope neither of you ever have to experience one," Thorin muttered, drawing Fili close and putting his arm around the small shoulders. "Will you go wake him, lad?"

Fili groaned. "Can't you?"

"Is it that difficult?"

"Yes!"

"He's your brother," Thorin chuckled. "You wake him." He gave Fili a little push towards the doorway, grinning at the boy's annoyed expression. "And get dressed, both of you. Fili, that includes shoes. You're going to fall sick in this weather if you don't wear any."

Fili slouched back into the hallway, grousing to himself.

"Don't slouch!" Thorin shouted after him, and Fili rolled his eyes. So what if Kili was his brother? Why did he, Fili, have to go wake the little monster? Every day, it was the same old story. It was as if every adult in the universe was scared of a two-year-old baby dwarf! Pushing open the door to their room, Fili checked on his little brother. Sure enough, the tiny devil was snoring softly, his mouth wide open, eyes shut tightly and moving behind the lids. Dreaming.

Through the window, Fili inspected the dark, heavy clouds and the trees bending to the wind, and had an idea. Maybe if he made it cold enough in the room, Kili would wake up! Dragging one of the bedside tables to beneath the window, Fili climbed onto it and, with a grunt, pushed the window open, gasping as a wall of frigid air slammed into him.

But Kili just burrowed deeper into the covers and snored on.

Fili grabbed his brother and shook him. "Kili! Wake up!" But it didn't matter how loud Fili yelled – his little brother stuck his thumb in his mouth, curled up into a ball, and slept on.

Frustrated, Fili grabbed Kili's ankles and lifted his brother clear off the bed, holding him upside down in the air. "Wake up!" he shouted again, and was rewarded by movement.

"Fiwi," Kili groaned sleepily, kicking his little legs slightly before returning his thumb to his mouth. Fili dropped him angrily back onto the bed – he was only seven, after all, and his arms couldn't take Kili's weight for too long.

Fili sat back on his heels, sneezing, wondering how to wake Kili up. And then he remembered something: his little brother was very, very ticklish. Smirking, he leaned forward. This would probably take all of five seconds.

Thorin nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard screams coming from inside.

"Stop it! Fiwi, stop! 'M up! 'M up! Stop!" Kili was howling, and Thorin dropped his axe and pipe onto the table, standing up. What on earth was Fili doing to his little brother? He rushed inside, slumping against the doorframe in relief when he saw Fili trapping Kili down, tickling him. He'd been afraid something far worse had happened.

"Unca Thorin, he'p me!" Kili shouted, breathless with laughter, wriggling as Fili kept him pinned.

"I woke him up!" Fili beamed at his uncle, letting go of Kili as he hopped off the bed.

"No fair," Kili grumbled, rubbing his eyes. He sneezed, the force of it knocking him backwards onto the bed. Fili giggled.

"Why is it so cold?" Thorin turned, and his jaw dropped when he saw the open window. Striding over, he slid it shut, noticing the table that was innocently standing beneath the window. It hadn't been there last night, he remembered. "Fili," he said sternly, turning to the boy, "Did you open this window?"

Fili nodded, his face unusually serious. He had a feeling he was in big trouble. But his uncle was kneeling by the fireplace, and within moments flames sprang up, warming the room.

"Fili, get dressed," Thorin ordered, trying to hide his worry. The boy had better not fall sick. "And Kili –" He had to smile when he saw the baby dwarf snuggled up in the blankets, sitting up with the covers wrapped tightly around his little body so that only his face was visible. Apparently at least one of his two crazy nephews had the sense to stay warm. "Kili, you need to get dressed too, lad."

Kili observed his uncle for a moment. Uncle Thorin appeared to be serious about getting up and getting dressed, but Kili had no intention of going anywhere. He was warm where he was, thank you very much. Giving Thorin his cutest smile, Kili flung both his arms out of the blankets and held them out towards Thorin, begging to be carried.

Thorin gave Kili a very unyielding look, but Kili persisted, beaming widely at his uncle.

Thorin sighed, lifting the youngest member of his family out of his cocoon of blankets. Why did Dis have to have such manipulative, adorable children? This was all her fault. Her blasted genes, not his. No one had ever accused Thorin Oakenshield of being cute.

Ten minutes later they were both dressed and wearing shoes, and Kili was staring worriedly at his older brother, having forgiven him for the appalling wake-up call earlier. Fili had begun coughing, a deep, hacking, throaty sound that Kili didn't like at all. He was only two, but he knew enough to know that Fili should not be making that kind of sound.

Leaving his brother with the wooden sword that he was in love with, Kili scampered out to the kitchen again, where Uncle Thorin had once again taken up residence, accompanied by his pipe, axe, and mug of something. Intrigued by the something, Kili clambered up a chair to the table, peering inside. A black, bitter-smelling liquid sloshed around inside when he tilted the mug. Settling down more comfortably on the table, Kili picked up the mug with both his hands, grimacing a little at the weight, and decided to sample the drink.

A slight noise behind him made Thorin look around, just in time to see Kili dunk a nearly full mug of coffee over his small head. Thorin gaped at the coffee-doused dwarfling, who was gaping back at him.

"Kili, what are you doing?" Thorin demanded, standing up, towering over the little dwarf.

"Takin' a sip?" Kili put out his tongue and licked at some of the dark brown stuff covering him, and gagged instantly. "Yuck."

Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose, very tempted to dump Kili in a pond somewhere for two minutes to get the coffee off. "Why were you –"

"Fiwi sick!" Kili interrupted him, suddenly remembering why he had come in the first place.

"He's sick?" Thorin repeated, wondering what Kili was trying to do now. Distract him from the fact that he had a two-year-old doused liberally in coffee sitting on the table, no doubt.

"Fiwi be coughin' bad!" Kili shouted, standing up and glaring up at his uncle, who wasn't moving. Why wasn't he checking on Fili?

"He's coughing?" For a moment, Thorin was confused – and then he remembered the open window. "Where is he?"

Kili hopped off the table, rolling as he hit the ground, before standing up and running inside, leaving a trail of coffee drops in his wake. "Hurry up, Unca Thorin!" he called, heading back into his room.

Kili bounced inside to find Fili sitting on the floor, in front of the fireplace, shivering. Toddling over, Kili stood next to Fili, resting his chin on his older brother's shoulder. "Fiwi cold?"

"No," Fili said hoarsely. "I'm fine."

Slapping his arms around Fili's neck, Kili buried his face in his shoulder, leaning all his negligible weight on the other dwarfling. "You no sounds fine, Fiwi. You sounds bad."

"He's right," Thorin said, squatting down beside them. He put his hand on Fili's forehead, and hissed in surprise. The skin felt hotter than the furnace in the forge. He was going to have to call the healers. "Fili, you need to lie down, lad. You're ill."

"I'm fine," Fili insisted, trying to hide a wheezing breath. "Kili, why are you covered in coffee?"

"Kiwi taked a sip, and it was yuck," Kili explained airily, waving a hand at his coffee-dripping body. "Fiwi, you no fine. Go 'n' sweep," Kili ordered, tightening his grip on Fili's neck.

"Kili, he can't sleep if you're holding on to him like that," Thorin reprimanded the younger boy gently. "Let go."

"No," Kili retorted. "Kiwi stay wif Fiwi until Fiwi better. Kiwi no go 'way."

"Kili, I'm sick," Fili sighed, trying to pry his brother's little arms off him. "You can't stay with me, you'll fall sick too. I'll play with you later, okay?"

"No! Kiwi stay," Kili said obstinately.

Fili groaned, trying to get Kili off of him. His head hurt, his throat hurt – oh, his entire body hurt – why couldn't Kili understand that he wanted to be left alone and that he was in no mood to put up with annoying two-year-olds?

"Get off!" Fili snarled suddenly, making Kili jump backwards in shock, his brown eyes wide. "Leave me alone! I don't want to play with you! Go away!"

Kili's big eyes filled with tears, and before Thorin could grab him he fled from the room.

"Why did you say that?" Thorin snarled. "He's your brother!"

"He's driving me crazy," Fili rasped. But an image of Kili's wounded expression and the brown eyes overflowing with tears flashed in his mind's eye, and Fili suddenly buried his face in his hands. Why was he so mean?

"He'll be alright," Thorin said gently, lifting Fili off the ground and carrying him to his bed. "In a way you did a good thing, Fili. He would've fallen ill too if he'd stayed with you, and he's smaller than you. It would have hit him harder."

Pulling the dwarfling's boots off, Thorin tucked Fili into bed. "Stay here. I'll be back in a few moments – I need to bring the healers."

"Can you check on Kili?" Fili whispered, his throat paining him with every word he spoke. "Please?"

Thorin nodded. "I'll keep an eye out for him, but we need to take care of you first. He'll probably be playing somewhere in the house. After I bring the healers I'll talk to him."

The healers only confirmed what Thorin already knew. Fili was very, very sick, and his little brother was to be kept away from him until the fever had been reduced substantially, which could take a few days. They prescribed bed rest and a disgusting medicine that Fili pulled a face at when Thorin tried to give it to him.

"Did you find Kili?" Fili demanded, trying to sit up against the pillow.

"Not yet, and stay still," Thorin said, helping his nephew sit up. "If you take the medicine, I'll find him."

"You won't otherwise?" Fili shouted, shocked. "What kind of an uncle are you? He was upset, you saw him! Don't you care if he's okay or not? I hurt him, and now you're making me lie here instead of being able to find him, and you won't look either! What if he tried to climb up into the attic again and got hurt? What if –"

"Quiet," Thorin snapped, and Fili fell silent instantly, knowing he had crossed an invisible line. Thorin's face was stony, and he knew that his uncle was furious. Meekly, he took the medicine Thorin gave him, and lay back as his uncle strode from the room. Fili coughed, his throat searing with pain, every breath a laborious wheeze, his head pounding as if Dwalin had been hammering on it for hours. Exhaustion closed his eyes, and the last thing he saw before he fell asleep was Kili's expression when Fili had snapped at him, when the one person who was supposed to unconditionally love him and always be there for him had kicked him away.

-:-

Kili ran blindly on, dodging the large boots that kept coming at him as he dashed through the streets, his mad run keeping his little body from fully feeling the cold air pressing to him. He kept seeing Fili's furious face before him, hearing those poisonous words, wondering if his brother had meant it or not. But why would Fili say such things if he hadn't meant it? It was a mystery too great for Kili to solve.

So now he was running, not sure where his feet were taking him and not caring, swiping at his face with his hands whenever hot tears blinded him. Kili was vaguely aware of houses and dwarves around him, but suddenly a loud, jarring sound jerked him from his tears. A loud clanging was emitting from a huge building on his left, and it took Kili a few minutes to realize he was standing in front of the forge.

Biting his lip, he took a few small steps towards the entrance, and then paused, unsure whether to continue. Uncle Thorin had strictly forbidden him from entering the forge until his uncle took him there one day when he was big. But just one peek couldn't hurt, right? Kili nodded to himself. He would take two steps in, look around, and go right back out again. No one would ever know.

-:-

Kings didn't panic. Warriors always had a plan. But uncles were prone to fear, and Thorin kept up a steady stream of Khuzdul curses under his breath as he searched Dis's house from top to bottom, looking for her troublesome youngest. He'd even climbed into the attic like some crazed elf, out of fear that Fili was right and Kili had attempted to get up there! Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself, trying to think like a dwarfling. If he was small and hurt, where would he go? Good question, he told himself sarcastically. Because Kili really thinks like you do.

Making sure he kept his tread as light as possible, Thorin reentered the boys' room, where Fili was now fast asleep. He paused by his nephew's bed, looking down at the bright hair spread over the pillow. Fili's brows were furrowed, and his eyes moved restlessly behind their lids in sleep. Thorin laid his palm on the dwarfling's forehead and frowned. The fever was eating him alive. Bending down, he pressed a kiss to Fili's hair, smoothing it back before kneeling to look beneath the bed. No Kili.

An hour later, Thorin was considering the fact that he might actually be terrified. Kili was not behind any of the curtains, under any of the beds, in any of the fireplaces, in the attic, or anywhere else that he could think of to check. His baby nephew had simply vanished, and Thorin hadn't felt this helpless since Kili was up that tree…which was only yesterday. He sighed. His nephew was going to drive him into an early grave.

He was trying to force himself to think, but it was quickly becoming impossible. His head was spinning, his ears ringing, and his heart thumping as fast as it had when he had fought Azog, nearly convinced he would die in that battle. But now it wasn't his own life he was afraid of losing – it was his nephew's. How had Kili simply disappeared?

He muttered another curse, running his hands over his forehead in frustration. This had to be a bad dream. Just a dream. He closed his eyes, hoping, but when he opened them there was no Kili anywhere in the vicinity. Damn. Definitely not a dream then.

Thorin pushed the front door open, striding out into the nearby orchard, going immediately to the tree Kili had scaled so easily the previous day. "Kili!" he shouted, his throat burning with the force of his cry. "Kili, are you here?"

A bird chirped somewhere in response.

Drawing in a deep, ragged breath, Thorin sank against the tree, trying to still his mind. He needed to think. Kili had never gone beyond the orchard alone – a scared dwarf would never venture somewhere unfamiliar. It was simply not in their nature. But where was he then?

The temptation to cut down every tree until he found his nephew in one of them was so strong, but Thorin quelled it. It would take too long, and the icy air outside, coupled with the overhanging storm clouds, reminded him of something else. Fili had fallen badly ill in moments after opening the window – Kili had been saved only by the blankets – so if Kili, who was much smaller than his brother, was out in this weather for much longer, he would be just as sick, if not worse.

Thorin needed to find the boy, and fast.

So he was going to need help. Glancing towards the house, he wondered if he should be leaving Fili alone, and then growled and broke into a run, heading for the forge. Dwalin and Balin should both be there – they spent nearly all their time there, often with him. Maybe Dwalin could scare the lad out of hiding.

-:-

Dwalin was busy. The forge was sweltering, and he wanted nothing more than to step outside and breathe in some air that wasn't clogged with smoke and heat, but he had to finish. Raising his hammer again, he grunted as he slammed it down upon the red-hot iron, taking out his frustration on the metal. But his predicament seemed lessened when he remembered Thorin. The poor dwarf was watching over his two nephews. Dwalin allowed himself a small grin, wishing he could go watch. Fili and Kili could drive even the calmest dwarf mad in an hour. Those were two seriously talented babes. But even though Thorin moaned continuously about them, everyone knew how fond of them he really was. When he'd given Fili his first toy sword, Thorin had gone on for weeks about the natural skill the boy displayed with the weapon. Kili, on the other hand, seemed to have talents for everything but what Thorin expected. Such as when Thorin had come running into the forge just yesterday, shouting something about his crazed younger nephew miles high in a tree, of all things! Dwalin shuddered. He never climbed trees if he could help it. Nasty tall things.

His hammer came down hard against the iron again, and for a few minutes Dwalin lost himself in the work, the firelight making the black tattoos on his fingers shimmer in the half-light.

Something moving in his peripheral vision caught Dwalin's eye, but he remained focused on his work. It was probably a rat – once had snuck in last week. He smirked as he remembered Balin standing on a table, pointing a shaking dagger at the rat. The elderly dwarf, who had seen and survived so many ferocious battles, retained an unhealthy fear of vermin. Dwalin shook his head, as he hammered the iron into a definite shape. His elder brother was crazy.

Panting, Dwalin stepped back from the iron, his job done. He dropped his hammer with a thud onto the table and grabbed a skin of water, slaking his thirst with a long drink, when he suddenly remembered the rat. Pulling his knife out of a pocket, Dwalin glanced around the room, searching. There! A shadow was moving not too far from him. With a growl, he lunged at it, his knife plunging into the wood of the wall as it dodged and scurried away from him, whimpering.

Dwalin blinked. Rats didn't whimper.

He turned around to see a tiny mass huddled behind a work bench, snuffling. Jerking the knife out of the wall, Dwalin stomped over to the bench, noticing the shape drawing into itself as he did so. With a yell, he swooped down and lifted it in one hand, to find himself staring at a ridiculously small dwarfling with a mass of brown hair, a few stray braids flying as he swung the child into the air.

The baby dwarf stared at him, and Dwalin stared back, cursing his own stupidity. The brown hair and the tiny size were a dead giveaway, as were the famous big brown eyes that were gazing at him in terror. He had tried to kill Thorin's younger sister-son. He was a dead dwarf.

"What are you doing here, boy?" Dwalin barked, trying to overcome his shock. Surely Thorin knew that the forge was no place for young ones – what on earth had he been thinking, letting the lad come here?

The child burst into loud tears, wriggling in his grip, and Dwalin racked his brain for the young dwarf's name, but could not for the life of him remember. Gently, he set the wailing prince down on the table, wondering how on earth to calm it – him.

"What in Durin's name is happening here? Why are you holding a knife?" Balin came towards him from a far corner of the forge, a soft gasp passing his lips. "Kili? What is he doing here? Thorin will have our heads!" He hurried over to the dwarfling, putting his hand comfortingly on the boy's head, stroking it gently. "It's alright, lad. Do you remember me?"

Kili sniffled. The big scary dwarf with black things all over his head was standing back, which meant that the immediate threat had been vanquished. The dwarf with lots of white hair looked very familiar, and Kili screwed up his eyes as he tried to remember the name. Uncle Thorin got mad when he didn't remember names. "Bawin?" he tried.

Dwalin snorted, earning himself a glare from his brother.

"Balin, at your service," Balin smiled, bowing to the prince, wondering how he was going to explain this one to Thorin. "What are you doing here, lad?"

Kili's eyes grew wide, and Balin resisted the urge to groan. The boy was obviously searching for a good cover story.

"Takin' a walk," Kili decided, suddenly noticing the large hammer lying next to him. Crawling over to it, he wrapped his hands as best he could around the handle, trying to lift it.

"It's too heavy for ye, lad," Dwalin said, stepping forward, and Kili gave a squeak of fright and jumped backwards, falling off the table. A cry of pain emitted from behind the table, and both dwarves rushed around to find Kili already picking himself up, more interested in the sword propped against the wall a few feet away than the dark blue bruise on his small cheek.

"Wow," Kili whispered softly, running his small palm over the scabbard, tracing the carvings on it.

"Come on now, Kili," Balin said, reaching for the boy. "Let's get you home."

"No!" Quick as a flash, Kili hid behind the largest thing he had in close range: Dwalin's boot. He'd had a lot of practice with hiding behind boots, except that they were usually Thorin's, and these boots belonged to a scary looking dwarf with black things on his head. Why did he have black things on his head? Kili wrinkled his nose. The boots smelled.

"Dwalin!" A very familiar voice boomed from the doorway, and Dwalin stepped out of the shadows, leaving the dwarfling with nowhere to hide. The defenseless Kili – with much wriggling – found himself being lifted by Balin and carted off towards the entrance.

"Yes, Thorin?" Dwalin crossed his massive arms across his chest, raising his eyebrows. Thorin's brows were drawn, his eyes shining with worry, his mouth a pained slit in his face.

"Kili's missing," Thorin panted, trying to hide his fear. "I've looked for him everywhere, he's not in the house. I need you to help me find him."

"Think I can," Dwalin said, grinning. "The wee lad's back here." Beckoning Thorin after him, he led the king to the depths of the forge, where they met Balin, who was carrying a squirming Kili towards them. On seeing his uncle, Kili instantly shrank back into Balin, trying to look as innocent as possible. Uncle Thorin was mad.

"Kili," Thorin growled. "What are you doing here? Didn't I specifically forbid you from coming here till you were old enough?" He took the boy from Balin, giving him a quick nod of thanks, before his expression returned to fury. "Why didn't you stay at home? I have been searching for you everywhere!"

"Fiwi hates me!" Kili whimpered, burying his face in Thorin's shoulder to hide the tears. "'M not goin' home."

"He doesn't hate you," Thorin said placatingly, not sure whether to rage at the crying child or comfort him. "Fili was worried about you, Kili. He's just very sick. He isn't thinking straight at the moment."

Kili gazed at him with eyes wide with fear. "Fiwi gon' go 'way? Like daddy?" A lone tear trickled down his cheek.

Balin muttered something to Dwalin, and the two of them gave Thorin small nods before returning to their work, both of them taking care to make so much noise that they couldn't hear any more of the conversation. They didn't want to hear Thorin's response, and they knew Thorin didn't want them to. Their king had never fully gotten over the loss of his kin.

"Fili is not going to go anywhere," Thorin assured Kili, wiping the tear away with his thumb, dreading the day he would have to tell Kili just how his father died. Fili knew – he had overheard Dis and Thorin talking about it, but he had promised not to tell Kili. Would the boy blame him for the loss of his father, since he had died fighting under Thorin?

"He gon' get better?"

"Yes, Kili. He will get better." Thorin couldn't help the smile that spread over his face as Kili wound his little arms around his neck, clinging tightly to him. He patted the boy's back, turning around to face the other two dwarves, who were single-handedly creating the most deafening sound he'd heard in a while. "Keep it down, you two!" Thorin bellowed. "And thank you," he said quietly, dropping his voice a little as he realized that Kili was dozing on his shoulder.

"For what?" Balin came toward him a little, leaving his work behind. "All I did was keep Dwalin from killing your nephew, that's all."

Thorin's yell startled Kili, and probably everyone else within a one-mile radius. "WHAT?"

A/N: There you have it. I do believe this is my longest chapter so far…and I don't really like it. So please review? More reviews = faster update! And I have made a chocolate mousse (which I also make fantastically) for all my reviewers for the last chapter. Thank you everyone! See you next chapter :D