A/N: Hey guys, thank you so much for the wonderful response to Chapter Six! And now on with Chapter Seven; this was such a difficult chapter to write. Dean O' Gorman said in an interview that dwarves are upfront with their emotions, so yes, be prepared for angst and lots of it. Also, another familiar face makes an appearance in this chapter – thanks go to rousey for the prompt!
"All the months in the north that don't get light at all, lonely all year round."
Although he stayed perfectly still in the chair, Fíli felt like he was falling. His heart seemed to break free of his ribs; unable to burst outward, it plummeted down into his stomach, its frantic beat pounding in his ears the whole time.
"No!" was the first word that broke free from Fíli's quivering lips. His mouth was dry and his body was quickly being taken over by a raw, all-consuming ache. "Uncle... please, you can't..." Fíli's mind was racing; he thrashed through scattered visions of their quest up until that point, and then he couldn't picture any further... His future had drawn a blank.
"I have made my decision, Fíli," Thorin said stoically. "It was a mistake on my part, deciding to let you and Kíli join us. I want to rectify that."
Fíli couldn't understand how Thorin could be so calm when he felt like he was having his limbs ripped apart. "Thorin, you can't send us back now," he said, swallowing to try and relieve the lump in his throat. "We've come so far... you know Kíli and I will follow you to the end."
"Aye, but I can't let you do that," Thorin murmured, his voice low and his expression unreadable. He looked away from Fíli, out towards the balcony, his eyes darkening as the afternoon sun reached his face. "I am haunted by the last look your mother gave me before I left... And I am haunted by the promise I couldn't make to her."
Fíli's stomach twisted with a spike of pain as he remembered his own farewell with Dís; he had tried to promise her that he would keep Kíli safe, that he would bring him home, but she wouldn't let him make that promise when she knew such things were beyond his control.
"You're not the only one who couldn't make that promise," Fíli said darkly, the hint of a challenge in his tone; it was the first time he had ever spoken out of turn with Thorin.
"All the more reason for you both to return to Ered Luin," Thorin replied, and there was a sharpness to his voice that implied he had registered the affront in Fíli's words. "It would be best if Ori went with you, and you can take the hobbit back to the Shire on your way."
Fíli couldn't believe what he was hearing; Thorin was tearing his company apart! And then he thought of Kíli, who at that moment was sitting by the fire, completely oblivious to all of this... The news was going to destroy him.
"Kíli..." Fíli whispered, almost choking on his brother's name. "I... I can't tell him... It'll break his heart..."
"Then you should go and retrieve him from the east corridor, I will tell him," Thorin said coolly, any traces of regret hidden in his aloof tone. "And bring Balin, Dori, and the hobbit back with you."
Fíli stared at Thorin for a long moment, speechless. When it was made clear that this was all Thorin was going to say on the matter, Fíli slipped from his chair. "Yes, uncle," he said; he had meant to sound icy, he only sounded dejected.
The walk to the east corridor seemed endless. Fíli wondered if this was because his pace was slowed, weighed down as he was by all that had just passed in the sickroom. When he left he had felt numb, bewildered... but now, with every step closer to the company's quarters, the angrier he became. Thorin had quite clearly divided his company into the experienced and the inexperienced, the capable and the incapable. Despite his years of training, despite his desperation to prove himself, and despite all he had achieved on their quest so far, Fíli had found himself on the losing side; he was being sent home.
The worst part was that his fears seemed to have been realised; Thorin didn't think he was worthy of his crown, of his kingdom. He wasn't even going to let Fíli fight for him. Everything Balin had told him paled into insignificance. What did it matter that Thorin had been proud when he was born? He obviously hadn't met his expectations. Fíli gritted his teeth when he thought of all Gandalf had done since they arrived in Rivendell; he had made him confront his destiny, and made him genuinely believe he was good enough to be a king. But Thorin didn't think that, and now the key hung around his neck like a millstone, dragging him down, and the map burned into his chest like a branding iron.
Balin was the first to notice Fíli had appeared in the doorway. The young dwarf made no sound, arriving as silent as a ghost, and he certainly looked like one; his face was so pale it was almost grey and there was no life in his eyes.
"Fíli, lad, is everything alright?" Balin asked carefully, raising his voice above the din.
The company fell silent at Balin's words and all eyes were on Fíli as he edged into the room.
"Fíli!" Kíli grinned, turning around to greet his brother. "You missed Dwalin's story!"
Fíli put a hand on Kíli's shoulder. "I need to get you back to the sickroom," he said, in no more than a whisper.
"But I've only just got here!" Kíli whined. "Five more minutes?"
"No, Kíli, now," Fíli said sharply. "Balin, Dori, Bilbo... Thorin would like to speak with you as well."
This sent a ripple of concern through the company, and they all looked worriedly at each other, murmuring and nervously scratching at their beards. Balin came forward first, eyeing Fíli warily, trying to deduce the problem. Bilbo followed, looking anxiously from Balin to Fíli, and then Dori joined them. Dori knew he was the surprise addition to the group; Thorin had never asked to speak to him personally before. He looked over his shoulder at his brothers; Nori only shrugged and Ori clutched his sketchbook to his chest, as if for comfort. Fíli didn't give Kíli chance to attempt walking on his own, he pulled the younger dwarf's arm around his shoulders as soon as he was on his feet, and they led the way out of the room.
"What's going on, Fíli?" Kíli whispered, when they were half-way to the sickroom. His brown eyes were wide and shining, and there was a trace of fear lurking behind them.
"I... I can't tell you, Kíli... Wait until we get to the sickroom," Fíli replied, keeping his voice low. He again became aware of the prolonged, dull ache in his chest which he assumed was his heart being very slowly cloven in two.
Arriving in the sickroom, the party assembled before Thorin. Kíli refused to return to his own bed, so Fíli let him lean against the footboard of the bed opposite Thorin's. Fíli didn't look Thorin in the eye once as he got Kíli settled.
"Fíli says you would like to speak with us?" Balin said, after a moment of nervous silence.
"Aye," Thorin sighed, looking from face to face, seeing the curiosity mingled with concern in all save Fíli's, which was turned from him. "Recent events of our journey have led me to believe I made a grave error in calling on some of our company... I am sending Fíli and Kíli back to Ered Luin, and –"
"What? No!" Kíli cried, stumbling as he lost his grip on the footboard. Fíli's hands shot out to steady him and he gently shushed him. Kíli's mouth hung open as Thorin continued, filled with all the things he wanted to say, but didn't know how.
"Mister Baggins, I would like you to go with my nephews. They will see you safely back to your comfortable hobbit hole. Dori –"
"But Bilbo is our burglar!" Kíli interrupted again, becoming increasingly agitated.
Kíli's nose started twitching and his cheeks grew red; Fíli recognised these signs from childhood, and with pain flooding his chest, he realised his brother was on the verge of tears.
"You can't send our burglar home," Kíli protested further. The hurt in his voice seemed to add: "And you can't send me home either."
"It's alright, Kíli," Bilbo said sadly, turning to the young dwarf behind him. "To be perfectly honest I'm surprised I even made it this far." His comforting smile faded when his gaze returned to Thorin, and he fell silent.
"Dori, I think it would be wise for Ori to accompany Fíli and Kíli, but I leave this matter up to you," Thorin said quietly.
Dori was about to reply when Fíli jumped in with: "Doesn't Ori get a say in this? Shouldn't he be here?"
"Ori is not of age, Dori speaks for him," Thorin replied dangerously.
Fíli couldn't contain himself any longer. The pain in Kíli's eyes and the pain burning a hole in his own chest bid him speak. "Why are you doing this, Thorin? Why have you no faith in us?"
A stunned silence fell over the group; no one had so openly challenged Thorin's authority before. Thorin glared at Fíli, his expression thunderous, but Fíli only glared back. Balin put a hand on Fíli's shoulder in gentle warning, but Fíli still took a step forward, waiting for Thorin's answer.
"I am only trying to protect you," Thorin answered finally, his voice quiet, guarded. "You are young, you know nothing of the world."
Balin closed his eyes at Thorin's concluding words. He knew what Thorin meant to say; that he loved his nephews, that he would do anything to stop them coming to harm, but this was not the way to say it, and he knew Fíli would not take it well.
"For Durin's sake!" Fíli growled. "Have we not proven ourselves thus far? Kíli took an arrow for you!"
"Your brother almost died, don't you dare use that in your defence!" Thorin snarled, his black gaze moving from Fíli to Kíli.
Yet Kíli didn't shrink under Thorin's eye, in fact his own expression had darkened to defiance. He straightened up, his brow furrowed. "I would take that arrow again and again, as many times needed to reclaim Erebor."
"You know we would die for you, Thorin!" Fíli added firmly.
"I will not give you that opportunity!" Thorin snapped, leaning forward, his fists clutching his bed sheets so tightly he had almost shredded them.
"Thorin, if you die on this quest, I will inherit your crown whether I fight by your side or not!" Fíli said, through gritted teeth. "Sending me home won't change that!"
A smirk bordering on a sneer appeared on Thorin's lips. "Oh ho! Tell me, Fíli, when did you become so desperate to jump into my grave?"
The past week flashed in front of Fíli's eyes; he was out on the plains, his hand pressed hard against Kíli's chest as he bled into the grass, Gandalf was holding Thorin's key out to him and it glinted in the starlight, Balin was telling him the story of his birth by the fire, the key was around his neck, cool against his chest, he was pleading Thorin's case with Lord Elrond, he was running his finger over the black ink of his family tree, tracing the line to his name... And now it had come to this. Thorin's eyes were narrowed at him, waiting.
"You almost died Thorin!" Fíli said bitterly. "I am your heir –"
"AND I AM YOUR KING!" Thorin roared, his chest heaving. "You will do as I command!"
Fíli stared at Thorin for a long, breathless moment, and then, without another word, he stormed out of the sickroom.
"Fíli! Wait!" Kíli called. Lurching forward too quickly, he tripped and fell down hard onto his knees, and he stayed there, looking at the floor, shuddering. Dori and Bilbo rushed to his side and hoisted him back onto his feet. Kíli kept his arms around their shoulders as he turned his dark, watery eyes on Thorin. "Can you take me back to the east corridor?" he murmured, his voice wavering. "I don't want to be in here anymore."
In sombre silence, Dori and Bilbo slowly led Kíli out of the sickroom. Balin followed behind them, giving Thorin one last look of regret, as he too disappeared from the room. Left alone, with his nephews unable to stand being in the same room as him and his rage turning to despair, Thorin buried his head in his hands.
Fíli had no idea where he was going, he just needed to put as much distance between himself and the sickroom as possible. Careening around a corner, he almost knocked Gandalf clean off his feet.
"Fíli! Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Gandalf asked, straightening out his robes and catching his breath.
"You think I'm good enough to be King Under the Mountain?" Fíli barked, the anger and adrenaline still surging through his veins. "Well Thorin doesn't! He doesn't even think I'm good enough to fight beside him. He's sending me back home!"
He didn't give the wizard chance to respond; instead he carried on through the rabbit warren of wooden corridors, searching out fresh air. When he finally stumbled through a gateway into a garden, he bounded across a bridge into the surrounding forests. He needed some real privacy to calm himself down and sort out the chaos in his head. Believing the last place anyone would look for a dwarf was up a tree, he scrambled with surprising agility up into the first sturdy oak he found and settled himself into the fork of two thick branches. Rooting through his pockets, he discovered his pipe, but no pipe weed... Today was not going well. With Thorin's angry words ringing in his ears, mingling with the birdsong of the forest, Fíli closed his eyes and tried to untangle his thoughts.
It was the sound of his own name that woke him. Fíli hadn't even realised he had fallen asleep until his eyes snapped open and he had to squint against the fiery light of the sunset. The forest was bathed in copper-coloured shadows as the dying sun slipped below the western horizon, and despite the burnished glow it left behind, it felt noticeably colder.
"Fíli!"
Fíli was trying to place the voice when he heard the frantic pad of footsteps come to an abrupt stop directly below him. Peering down he saw Estel, Lord Elrond's ward, newly returned from the north, peering back up at him. Estel opened his mouth, but Fíli put a hasty finger to his lips and begged him to stay quiet.
"Estel! Anything?" came Elladan's voice.
"No!" Estel called back, his grey eyes fixed on Fíli. "I'll move further into the forest, you and Elrohir check the pond!"
Fíli heard the tramp of footsteps recede into silence. He hadn't had chance to say a word before Estel swung himself with easy grace into the tree, and settled in the branches opposite him.
"You knew no one would think to check up in the trees," Estel commented, grinning. "Very wise."
He scratched at the dark brown bristle under his chin that was remarkably like Kíli's, and waited for Fíli to speak. Fíli wasn't sure what to say; he had only met Estel once before, and knew very little about this strange, lanky youth who seemed perfectly at home in the company of elves. He only knew that he had been away with the rangers in the north for a few months, and was back in Rivendell for a short visit.
"Everyone is out looking for me?" Fíli asked finally, with a sigh.
"Yes, on your brother's orders."
Fíli raised an eyebrow. "Kili's orders?"
"Your little brother can be very assertive when he wants to be," Estel laughed. "We're all under strict orders to bring you back to the east corridor before nightfall." He produced a pipe from his coat pocket and lit it; he was clearly making himself at home, and had no intention of forcing Fíli to go back immediately.
Fíli smelt Estel's pipe-smoke with a pang of envy. "Could I, er, borrow some of your pipe weed? I must have left mine in the sickroom."
"Of course," Estel smiled, pulling a pouch from his belt, and soon the two were drawing on their pipes in an easy silence. Unfortunately Estel wasn't content with this silence for too long. "I heard you and your uncle had an argument?" he said quietly. "About your quest for Erebor."
Fíli almost fell out of the tree. "What?" he whispered harshly. "How can you possibly know about our quest?"
Estel only seemed amused by this, and leant back against his branch with a small smirk. "You and your company underestimate the elves, Master Fíli. Lord Elrond is one of the wisest beings in Middle Earth – he figured it out soon enough... And, well, now his sons know, and his servants know... and I am pretty sure his horses have an inkling."
Fíli closed his eyes with a groan. He thought back to the book Arwen had shown him... How had he not realised?
"You look like him, you know, your uncle."
Fíli studied Estel for a long time, trying to figure out if he was joking. "No one's ever said that to me before."
"I think it's your nose," Estel said, tapping his own. "And your brow... Facially you look far more like Thorin than your brother does."
Fíli was shocked when he realised a smile had crept onto his lips. "Wait... How do you know what Thorin looks like?"
Estel choked on his pipe and something close to a blush appeared in his cheeks. "Oh, I...er, I have brought meals to Lady Arwen in the sickroom when she has stayed the night."
This time it was Fíli's turn to grin. The pair returned to silence, and Fíli looked back towards the Last Homely House, the gnawing ache in his stomach returning when he realised he would have to confront Thorin again sooner or later.
"I know you're angry, Fíli," Estel said carefully. "But you have to understand that your uncle is only trying to protect you. It's a heavy burden the crownless carry, and they wouldn't wish it on anyone else, let alone their own kin."
Fíli turned back to Estel and was shocked to see the change that had come over him. He suddenly looked years older and there was a weariness in his grey eyes. He spoke like someone carrying a dreadful weight on his shoulders; it was a voice he now recognised, but wouldn't have done a week ago. "Who are you?" Fíli asked, his tone cautious. This strange question somehow seemed like the right one.
"I have many names," Estel replied, leaning forward. "But I suppose the one you need is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. I am Isildur's heir."
"An heir to the throne of Gondor," Fíli murmured, his eyes wide.
"All you need know is I understand your plight."
"But... But you have renounced your throne."
"The fact that I do not want my throne doesn't mean I don't want others to want theirs."
"I don't know what I want," Fíli sighed. "I thought I didn't want to be Thorin's heir... Then Gandalf and Balin changed my mind... And now I'm not so sure... I'm just angry. I've never been so angry... And I've never before spoken to Thorin the way I did this afternoon." He grimaced when he thought of the argument, and that the others had been there to witness it.
"Coming to terms with your birthright is a difficult process," Estel conceded. "But you do share this burden with others."
"Thorin doesn't want to share the burden with me," Fíli said, bristling. "He's sending me home. He doesn't think I have what it takes to be a king."
"Now, I do not believe that for a second."
Fíli narrowed his eyes searchingly at Estel. "Why?"
"I think your uncle has realised you do have what it takes, and that scares him more than anything. He has lived with his birthright for as long as he can remember, and has suffered through it. He loves you Fíli, and maybe he can't bear the thought of you having to begin the same suffering."
Fíli thought back over his time in Rivendell; all the worrying, the sleepless nights, the loss of appetite... and now the arguments and this endless ache. Maybe Thorin was trying to protect him from all that.
"But I can't go back..." Fíli said, a hint of sadness in his voice. "I can't go back to how everything was before... I thought when Thorin woke up I could forget about being King Under the Mountain, but I can't... Not after everything that's happened."
"No, you can't," Estel agreed. "But you shouldn't have to."
"I might have to if Thorin sends me back to the Blue Mountains," Fíli said sullenly.
"I'm sure forces are already at work to ensure that doesn't happen," Estel said knowingly, and Fíli suspected he was referring to Gandalf. "Be proud of who you are, Fíli, and your uncle will come around."
"Do you ever take your own advice?" Fíli asked slyly.
A flash of something close to fear appeared in Estel's eyes, but then he smiled. "Talk of my throne is for another evening, but now I must return you to your brother before dark."
When Thorin heard footsteps out in the corridor, his heart leapt and he looked up, hoping to see Fíli enter the sickroom, but instead he found Gandalf filling the doorway. The disappointment clearly registered on his face.
"We need to have a little talk, Thorin, son of Thráin," Gandalf said slowly, taking a seat at Thorin's bedside. "It seems you have managed to undo all my good work this week in one fell swoop."
