The path to Erebor was harder than Kíli had imagined it to be. The problem, he soon realized, was that he had always thought of going to Erebor only with the rest of the Company. For a group of thirteen dwarves, one wizard, and one hobbit, crossing from Lake-town to Erebor wouldn't have been difficult. Getting an entire town across the plain was very different.
Kíli sighed, using his staff to pull himself to his feet. He had continued walking when the rest of the town stopped to eat so he could scout ahead. But before he had gotten too far, his leg had begun to protest even more than before, so he had sat down, looking out over the Desolation. This was the legacy of Smaug, he knew; the dragon had burned the plain until there was nothing left.
"Kíli." Kíli turned to see Fíli behind him, looking grave. "Are you sure that taking these people all the way to Erebor can happen? Have we enough supplies?"
"I'm certain the people can manage," Kíli replied, which wasn't entirely a lie. He knew some people who would make it. But with some of the others, he had the same doubts as his brother.
"All of them?" Fíli asked, disbelief in his tone. "What of the elderly, and the young? What of the five people Bard rescued from the ruins of Lake-town? Can the injured walk all the way to Erebor?" Kíli self-consciously shifted his grip on his makeshift staff, still the best thing they had been able to make to help support his weight. Fíli sighed. "Kíli, I do not mean to insult," he murmured, putting a hand on Kíli's shoulder. "But walking the entire way to Erebor, crossing entire Desolation… It will be difficult for all of us. Should we not perhaps send a few people ahead to Erebor so they may bring aid back?"
"What aid would they bring?" Kíli retorted. "Our Company has limited food and supplies. They cannot feed us, they cannot send horses to help us along… What could they do for us? They could give us gold, but there is nowhere we could go to spend it. We can get no help from Erebor."
"How much food have we?" Fíli asked.
"I know not," Kíli replied. "Some people have food they brought from Lake-town, as we do. There are grocers who brought their food, which I believe they are passing out among the town, free of charge. But the extent of our supplies, I do not know."
"I do not know any details, but I have gone to the grocers to see their wares. They do not have much," Fíli said grimly. "For the Company, we always thought crossing the Desolation would be a day's march. But with an entire town, full of the elderly and the young and the wounded, we will take much longer to cover the ground. It will take us at least a few days to cross to Erebor."
"I would estimate closer to a week," Kíli countered. "I do not know that the people can walk more than a league or so a day, and it is nearly seven leagues from here to Erebor."
"I do not think we have enough food for all of the people for a week," Fíli told Kíli, looking worried. "And there is not much in the Desolation for food. There are no plants, there are no animals…"
"We will still be following the river," Kíli protested, hiding his worry. "We could fish, perhaps."
"Does anyone have a fishing rod or net?" Fíli countered. "Kíli, I do not know that we can make it to Erebor."
"What else can we do?" Kíli protested. "Erebor has no food for us, but neither does Lake-town! Dale is destroyed, and there is no other town near here."
"We could go to Mirkwood, perhaps," Fíli offered. "King Thranduil dislikes dwarrows, but I do not think he would turn away all of the people of Lake-town. I believe he would help."
"The seat of King Thranduil is near as far from us as Erebor is," Kíli retorted.
"But King Thranduil has food!" Fíli argued. "Crossing into Mirkwood will be difficult, yes, but there will be an incentive at the end."
"An incentive that we are not sure King Thranduil will give to us!" Kíli snapped. Realizing what he was doing, he sighed and dragged his hand over his face. "I'm sorry. We ought not to fight. The hardships of this journey should not harden us against each other."
"You are right," Fíli replied. "Rather than argue, shall we talk to some others of the town to decide what we ought to do?"
"We can talk to Bard about supplies," Kíli replied, nodding. "And we can ask Tauriel if she thinks King Thranduil would help us." He adjusted his grip on his staff, beginning to limp back to the camp. Fíli fell in step next to him, staying at the same pace even though Kíli knew he could go faster.
"You know I meant no slight against you when I spoke of the injured," Fíli said quietly. Kíli nodded, suddenly acutely aware of his slow pace.
"I know," he replied. Wanting to change the topic to something more lighthearted, he added, "Can you imagine the look on Mother's face when she discovers my injury?"
Fíli laughed. "She'll be furious," he replied. "I'm sure she'll go on about how reckless you are for quite some time."
"Why does everyone call me reckless?" Kíli protested, making Fíli chuckle again. "It's quite unfair. I'm no more reckless than some of the other dwarrows. Why, Gimli tried to convince Glóin that he could come on the quest, and he is but sixty-two! And Uncle Thorin was the one who ran down a burning tree alone to fight Azog the Defiler and his hoard of orcs! How am I any more reckless than they?"
"You're the one that Mother can lecture," Fíli replied. "Gimli is not her son and Thorin is her elder brother. There is little she can do for them. And I am not so reckless as you, so you are the focus of Mother's energies."
"I'm not that reckless," Kíli muttered. Fíli gave his leg a pointed look.
"Of course not."
Fíli and Kíli were playfully shoving each other as they returned to the camp. A few of the townspeople looked up at them as they passed, but for the most part, the people kept to themselves. Kíli could not blame them for it.
"I'll find Bard," Fíli told Kíli, turning towards where Bard and his children were. "You go find Tauriel." Kíli nodded, turning the other way, towards where the wounded were being treated. Tauriel's assistance was no longer truly necessary with the children, but she insisted on being the one to help them. Kíli shot her knowing looks whenever she left to see them, which she pretended not to see. He wasn't sure, but he thought she was fairly young for an elf, which might have been why she was so close to Brigit and Dominic. Whatever the reason, she cared for them, although she liked to pretend she didn't.
As Kíli had suspected, Tauriel was with Brigit and Dominic. "Tauriel," he hissed quietly, not wanting to disturb the resting children. Tauriel's elf hearing caught the whisper and she stood, turning to walk over to Kíli.
"Is something wrong?" she asked quietly. Kíli shook his head.
"No. Well, perhaps. Come with me, please. We need to talk about the food supplies. Fíli is fetching Bard as we speak."
"Very well," Tauriel replied, walking with Kíli as they returned to where he had split off from Fíli. Bard and Fíli were approaching the spot as well.
"Where shall we talk?" Fíli asked, looking around. "I don't think we really want to be overheard more than necessary."
"Come with me," Tauriel murmured, walking off. The others followed her to a secluded little spot. Kíli sat on the ground, prompting Fíli and Bard to do so as well. Tauriel remained standing until Kíli gestured for her to sit, at which point she gracefully folded her legs and sat with a soft sigh.
"Fíli tells me you wish to speak about the food supplies?" Bard asked in a low voice. Kíli nodded.
"We are not sure that we have enough, and the Desolation is not named such in jest," he replied. "Will we have enough food to get to Erebor?"
"How long will it take?" Bard countered.
"We expect about a week, perhaps a bit less," Fíli replied. Bard looked grim.
"I believe we may have enough supplies for just that time, but barely. And what shall we do for food once we reach Erebor? Do you have supplies there, Master Dwarves?"
"No," Kíli admitted, shooting Tauriel a look. "We were wondering if perhaps it would make more sense to travel to the Woodland Realm, where you may beg food of King Thranduil."
"I am not sure that many of the townsfolk will be willing to beg, especially of someone who is not of the race of Men," Bard replied slowly. "But if we are low on food, they may reconsider."
"Will the Elvenking feed the people of Lake-town?" Fíli asked Tauriel, whose face was creased with a frown.
"We have always been friendly with Esgaroth," she replied, sounding as if she were choosing every word with care. "However, I do not know how eager my king would be to feed an entire town that appeared on his doorstep."
"What of traveling into Mirkwood?" Kíli asked. "When we passed, we were almost killed by spiders."
"I could pass through Mirkwood without much trouble," Tauriel replied. "But I do not know that I would be welcome, after leaving as I did. If I should return, especially if I should return without Legolas, I do not know that King Thranduil would be pleased."
"If we do not go to Mirkwood, what shall we do when we reach Erebor?" Fíli asked Bard, who frowned.
"Are you sure there is nothing here?" he asked Kíli. "Surely the dragon had to eat something during his years in Erebor."
"He slept for much of it," Kíli replied slowly. "I know not what else he did. Perhaps there is something here. Smaug would not have eaten herbs, but there are a few plants I cannot name."
"I can examine them," Tauriel offered. "It is rare that a Silvan elf happens across a plant they cannot recognize."
"Can you get together a small group of hunters?" Kíli asked Bard. "Do not tell them of the dwindling stores, for we do not need the people to worry quite yet, but have them go out to see if they can find anything. If we can find plants and animals to eat, we may make it to Erebor yet."
"I will gather a group," Bard promised, standing and returning to the camp. Tauriel stood as well.
"I will see to the plants," she added. Kíli almost asked if she would require help, but he knew he could not offer much; he didn't know any of the plants, and he could barely walk.
"Do require aid?" Fíli asked politely. Kíli's head whipped around to look at his brother. Shock showed in Tauriel's eyes for a moment, then she masked the emotion.
"If aid is being offered, I would not refuse it," Tauriel replied. Fíli stood, Kíli mimicking him with the aid of his staff.
"Will you be alright?" Fíli murmured. Kíli nodded, still slightly stunned by this turn of events.
"Do not be cruel to her," he warned Fíli, who just rolled his eyes and turned back to Tauriel. The two of them walked off, leaving Kíli behind to watch them, still not quite understanding. He finally turned back to the camp, deciding to find Bofur, who might have some sort of insight on what Fíli was doing. It was rare that Kíli did not understand his brother, but there were times. Bofur was good with understanding others, so Kíli hoped that he might understand what he did not.
Kíli finally found Bofur sitting with Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda. Tilda was playing with a few dolls while Bofur showed Sigrid and Bain his woodcarving skills. Kíli watched for a moment, a slight smile on his face. He had known Bofur since he was but a dwarfling, and he had first met him in a situation not unlike the one before him.
He and Fíli had been with Dís on market day, as they usually were, when they had seen a small stall, somewhat out of the way. Inside had been Bofur and Bifur, who had been conversing is fragmented Khuzdul and iglishmêk, which was the best they could do with Bifur's axe wound. As the cousins had talked, they had been carving, making the most incredible toys. Fíli and Kíli had pulled away from their mother, naturally, and ran to the stall, babbling in a frantic mix of Westron and Khuzdul about the toys. Dís had ended up leaving the boys in Bofur and Bifur's care as she finished her shopping, after Bofur assured her they didn't mind. At the end of the day, when she returned, Fíli and Kíli left the stall clutching new toys and with a promise that Bofur and Bifur would come to visit their house next time they came to that area of Ered Luin. They had, and when Thorin met Bofur and Bifur, they had become fairly quick friends. The two of them, plus Bomber, who was Bofur's brother, were natural choices for the quest to reclaim Erebor, when the time had come for it, despite that they were not of Durin's folk.
"Kíli!" Bofur cried when he finally noticed Kíli watching them. "Come over here, lad. Do you remember the carving skills I taught you?"
"Vaguely," Kíli replied, shrugging with a slightly embarrassed expression. "I was never as good as you."
"Oh, lad, no one expected that," Bofur replied cheerfully. Sigrid giggled. "Come on. Carve with me. I have an extra knife."
"What should I carve?" Kíli asked, coming over and sitting down slowly. Bofur passed him a carving knife and a block of wood.
"Whatever you want," he replied. Kíli frowned down at the wood, beginning to carve slowly, letting his fingers decide on a shape as his mind wandered. Before too long, a figure began to appear, which slowly became recognizable as a dragon.
"You should give that to your uncle when we reach Erebor," Bofur chuckled as Kíli began carving scales onto the dragon.
"I'd rather not be disowned from the line of Durin," Kíli replied dryly, carving a blaze of fire coming from the dragon's mouth. Instead of carving something tangible, which Kíli had never been very good at, he was carving the image of the dragon into the front of the piece of wood. He didn't think it was as good as the rose Bofur was carving next to him, which he presented to Sigrid with a flourish when he finished.
"Could I have the dragon?" Bain asked, a hint of shyness in his voice. Kíli smiled at the boy and nodded.
"Of course," he replied. Kíli had forgotten how much he liked woodcarving, and it was nice to let his fingers do something mindless and keep his hands busy in that way.
Kíli finished the dragon and tossed it to Bain, who tucked it into his bag. The children wandered off a bit, still in view, but out of earshot. "We're running low on food," he murmured to Bofur, who nodded grimly.
"Fíli did say something about that," he replied. "And there won't be much waiting in the Lonely Mountain."
"Bard was going to gather a group to go hunting," Kíli added. "I doubt they'll find much here, but they can look. And Tauriel went out to see if she could find any edible plants."
"And Fíli?" Bofur asked. Kíli frowned.
"Fíli went with Tauriel," he replied. To his surprise, Bofur didn't look that confused.
"He said he wanted to get to know her better," he told Kíli. "Something about wanting to see if she's good enough for you."
Kíli groaned loudly and buried his face in his hands. Bofur laughed. "Don't worry, lad," he advised him. "Óin has already put in his good word for her, and I quite like the lass. I'm sure Fíli will as well."
"But what if he says something to her?" Kíli protested, his voice muffled by his hands. "What if he tells her?"
"You did a good job of that yourself," Bofur teased. Kíli took his face out of his hands to glare at Bofur.
"And Tauriel has not mentioned it, so I'd rather it not be brought up again," he retorted. Bofur sighed.
"Lad, sometimes I think you're about as in touch with your feelings as your uncle," he declared. Kíli narrowed his eyes.
"And what is that supposed to mean?" he demanded. Bofur treated Kíli to the most innocent face he could make.
"Nothing at all, lad," he replied. Kíli sighed, but the children running back over kept him from pushing the issue. In truth, he wasn't sure he wanted to discuss things further with Bofur.
After all, his claim that he didn't want Tauriel to bring up his confession of love was a blatant lie.
The distance between Erebor and Lake-town is a guess, considering the distance that was in the movie seemed to be rather different from the distance in the book. In the movie, Dale is right next to the front gate of Erebor, whereas in the books, it was a few hours walk away. A league is most commonly described as the equivalent of three miles, so in this fic, Erebor is about twenty miles away from Lake-town.
Khuzdul is the language of the dwarves, which is a huge secret and isn't supposed to be spoken or even mentioned in front of anyone who's not a dwarf. Iglishmêk is a dwarf sign language, spoken entirely in gestures.
In the book, Bofur, Bifur, and Bombur are dwarves of Ered Luin, with no real connection to Erebor except their friendship with Thorin.
