Idunn wandered the stacks in Erebor's library trying to pay as little attention to Fíli and Astrid as she could without actually abandoning them to their own interests. Kíli had begged off library duty and left their party as soon as it was decided they would spend the afternoon there. She couldn't quite blame him, as surely he had more interesting things to do than watch his brother fall in love with Astrid.

And she did suspect Fíli of falling in love. His rapt attention, his fond looks at Astrid, the way he touched her like she was made of the softest velvet - this seemed like more than mere attraction to Idunn's eyes. Not that she had much experience with either attraction or love, she reminded herself. Perhaps she wasn't the best judge of the depth of a male's interest, but she thought his significant.

She had just settled into an armchair when King Thorin walked into the library. The surprise of seeing him quickly shifted into pleasure that she would not be without a companion after all. That she was pleased to be in his company didn't bear long scrutiny.

She didn't look at him as he made his halting way across the room. She had noticed he had a way of glaring like a wounded animal if she dared make eye contact while he walked, as though resentful of his injury being on display. Secretly she thought it a mark of honor, like iron forged through fire to create the strongest steel, but it seemed he did not.

He picked up a book off a table before sinking into the chair across from her. His gaze had caught Fíli and Astrid, sitting together on a settee in a far corner, but he didn't linger. When he looked at Idunn she felt that tiny something, like a flutter of wings in her chest, that had so unnerved her at the dinner party a week past. She tried to tamp it back down again, and fixed her attention firmly on her book.

"Where is Kíli?" Thorin asked.

She had long grown used to the King's abrupt manners, but that didn't mean she had to like them. "Good afternoon to you, too, sire."

A grim sort of smile crossed his features. "Good afternoon, Idunn. I trust you are well?"

"Quite well, thank you," she said with the air of a governess coaching a pupil. Point made, her stiffness melted away. "Kíli decided he would rather spend the afternoon in the training rooms than the library."

Thorin's brow twitched. "He shouldn't have left you alone."

Her own gaze darted to the couple in the corner and back again. "I think they're doing fine."

"I'm sure they are. I mean it's impolite to leave you by yourself in this way."

That a dwarf who barked out challenges and issued commands without thinking should worry about what is polite almost made her laugh out loud. "I was not offended."

Unconvinced, he glanced her over as though he might discover evidence of the lie. Given the choice between believing someone's words and their actions, he seemed only to trust his own eyes.

"I enjoy solitude," she said by way of explanation. She turned back to her book rather than face his piercing gaze. The idea of him examining her too closely was unsettling, for fear of what he might see.

He shifted as though uncomfortable. "Perhaps I am intruding, then."

"That wasn't what I meant." She raised a hand to stop him, as he seemed on the verge of standing to leave. "Of course you should stay. I only meant that I am not afraid of my own company."

He settled back into his chair, and his eyes lit with a strange mix of emotions. "It is not everyone who can say that."

"If I cannot tolerate myself, who could?"

"A good question," he said in the same odd tone.

She couldn't interpret the remark at all, but she knew she wanted his attention diverted elsewhere, anywhere but on her. "At any rate, my charges are not difficult."

Thorin glanced at the couple in the corner again, as she had hoped he would, but her reprieve was brief. "I should think not. My nephew is not incorrigible, yet he is still a male. He may have good intentions, but I cannot always trust him to have good actions. I am not that naive."

This frank confirmation of her growing concerns as chaperone was not the diversion Idunn had intended. She was trying to come up with a fresh distraction when Thorin continued on. "Kíli, too, requires a watchful eye."

She had to laugh at that. "I do not envy whoever is asked to chaperone his betrothal period."

Thorin's expression narrowed slightly as he watched her. "I don't expect that to be for many years."

"No, indeed."

"You agree?"

"He is quite...exuberant. I cannot imagine him being ready to marry for some time," Idunn said. Thorin watched her with such a strange look, she thought she must have inadvertently offended him, even though she had wholly agreed with his point. Then it hit her - when and whom Prince Kíli married would likely be at the discretion of the king himself. He didn't need her opinions on the subject. "It is a family matter, of course. I only mean he is quite young."

"Yes," Thorin said in a detached voice. "Yes, he is quite young."

He turned his attention to the book in his hands, so Idunn did the same. She had not read more than half a page before the King spoke up again. "I hope Kíli does not bother you with his exuberance."

"On the contrary, as an only child with two female cousins, knowing Kíli has given me a glimpse into what it might have been like to have a younger brother."

The beginning of a smile played along his lips. "And what is your verdict?"

"It would have been tiresome." There was a pause before she broke into laughter, which was quickly followed by the pleasant surprise of hearing Thorin's laugh. It was low and deep, rumbling from his chest like thunder in the distance.

"That is the younger brother's gift, to bring joy and gladness whether you want it or not." When he smiled at her the ridiculous fluttering sensation returned to Idunn's chest. "Many an older brother has been cheered to his breaking point by the younger."

She remembered then that Thorin himself had had a younger brother who had died in battle long ago. Although she would have liked to know more of him, such a question was too much for her to ask. "Fíli seems to tolerate it well," she said, choosing to keep to the topic at hand. "Even though they seem so dissimilar, I cannot imagine them not getting along."

"You did not know them as dwarflings," Thorin said with a rueful sort of smile. "I suppose I must be glad you find Fíli so different from Kíli."

"Fíli's far more serious than his brother."

Thorin nodded but his smile faded away. "The two were very much alike in their youth, but there is much responsibility in being the heir to the throne. It's a heavy burden to bear."

"He wears it well. I think he's a very fine dwarf."

"Do you approve then of your cousin's match?" He watched her again like he had before, as though ready to judge what he saw in her face more than what he heard in her words.

"I do. They're well suited to making each other happy, and their marriage will benefit all our lands." She paused a moment, calculating her next words. "I was glad to hear that the trade arrangements with the Iron Hills were completed."

"Yes, well, they had dragged on long enough. It's time to move forward." There was a long silence in which Thorin simply watched her. "I have no intention of letting the Iron Hills fall."

She couldn't help but break into a smile at such a reassurance from the King. The fluttering feeling that had settled inside her would just have to be ignored.

"You wanted to see me, Uncle?"

Thorin turned from his desk to see Kíli standing in the study doorway looking pink-cheeked and chipper. Although the toll of the Great Battle had left its scars and brought some measure of maturity to his nephew, glimpses like this reminded him just how young he still was, in heart if not necessarily in years.

"Sit down."

Kíli closed the door behind him and did as he was told. That spark of playfulness Thorin had briefly seen was utterly extinguished now. He sat with his fists balled on his thighs, all casualness gone. Perhaps he was too demanding with the boys after all, if Kíli should react to any unexpected summons with such apparent dread.

"Where were you this afternoon?" Thorin asked as though out of friendly curiosity.

The light in Kíli's eyes flickered. "This afternoon?"

Inwardly, Thorin sighed. Kíli was transparent. "I did not see you with the others in the library."

"I was in the training rooms. I don't want to let my skills grow rusty."

"Did you get in a good practice?"

Again that flickering in his eyes, as though searching for some way out of the conversation. He bounced one knee in agitation. Kíli was a terrible liar.

"Pretty good," he said. "Mostly target practice."

"I sent a page to find you. He said you weren't there."

The bouncing knee stilled, and Kíli's expression made plain he was struggling for an excuse. He would need to rid himself of all these signs if he were to ever become any sort of negotiator.

"I wasn't there the whole time."

"The captain of the rounds said he hadn't seen you since yesterday," Thorin said. Kíli looked back at him blankly and made no move to explain himself. "It's bad enough that you abandoned Idunn for the afternoon, but now you are hiding your actions. What is the reason for this?"

Kíli fidgeted in his seat again. "It's nothing."

"And yet you lie to me."

"I know you wouldn't like it."

"Obviously."

Kíli sighed. "I was with a girl, if you must know."

Thorin could only stare. He shouldn't have expected anything less from Kíli, but as far as he knew, the girl Kíli was spending time with was the very one he had left behind in the library. That she claimed to think of him as a younger brother had not yet fully divided them in Thorin's mind.

"Since when is there a girl?" he asked slowly.

"It's nothing serious."

"It's certainly something serious to the girl," Thorin said. "What about Idunn?"

Kíli shrugged. "I know I shouldn't leave her all alone with them, but Fíli's not about to ravage Astrid in the library, is he?"

"Do you take nothing seriously?" Thorin hissed. Kíli looked subdued for the moment, and Thorin was reminded of him as a dwarfling scolded for some long-forgotten transgression. He should be past such immaturity by now. That they had had this discussion several times already was testament that despite his age, Kíli was not yet acting like a dwarf grown.

"Whether this girl is seeking a claim on you or is simply too ignorant to realize she has none, you need to end it."

Kíli scowled but remained quiet.

"Do you think I've arranged Fíli's marriage to Astrid because I have nothing better to do with my time? I'll not have the Line of Durin splinter for the sake of your momentary pleasure."

"It's nothing like that."

"Then what is it?" If Kíli were to say he suddenly thought himself in love it would not go well for him.

"Do you have any idea how boring it is to watch Fíli woo his bride?" he asked. "It was amusing at first, when they didn't know what to do with each other, but now...now it's a nightmare."

"A nightmare," Thorin repeated.

Kíli groaned. "The sincerity, the tenderness, the sweet whisperings. I fear for him, I truly do, he's so blind to anything but her."

"You think so?"

"Yes, do you not?"

"I was not aware their affections had progressed so far." Attraction and affection were two separate things. In truth, he had been so concerned with whether Kíli and Idunn were falling in love, he'd given little thought to the couple who were actually to be wed. He had assumed they would find each other in their own time.

"Well they have progressed," Kíli said. "And I'm happy for him, truly I am, but if you say I must watch their every move from now until their wedding day, I will stab myself on the spot just to find relief from them in the infirmary."

Thorin felt suddenly lighter and had to laugh at Kíli's vehemence. "I'd hate for you to resort to that. I give you leave to abstain from accompanying some of their interactions. Some," he repeated, raising a finger in emphasis, "not all. Their betrothal has not yet been announced."

"They will come to you sooner than later." Kíli made to leave the study but Thorin stopped him.

"Stay a moment. I am serious about breaking off with this girl."

Kíli glanced away. "I know."

"We cannot risk - "

"Breaking the Line, I know." Kíli's bitterness had returned and the look he gave Thorin was all resentment. "Do you think I am likely to forget?"

"Sometimes you are liable to forget a great deal. You have already forgotten Idunn."

"What do you mean?" Kíli asked, confusion furrowing his brow.

That there was already a new flirtation gave Thorin a measure of peace, but Kíli was not known for his constancy. He would not be more specific than he had to be, but he must know Kíli's feelings once and for all.

"What do you think of her?" Thorin asked slowly.

"I think she's a pleasant companion," Kíli said as though trying to work out his opinion on the spot. "I had feared Astrid would turn up with a tottering old aunt, or worse, her mother, but as it is I've been quite content. Why?"

"No reason," Thorin said as he waved his nephew off. Kíli glanced at him a moment before he disappeared out the door.

No reason at all.

"It's finally happened." Astrid burst through the door that separated her chambers from Idunn's to find her cousin curled up in an armchair poring over a book.

"What's happened?" Idunn asked with a wide grin.

"Nothing about that," Astrid said with a wave of her hand. She had confided how Fíli had nearly kissed her, and how desperately she hoped he would try again. But no, so far he had been on his best behavior, and she could not think how to let him know he did not always have to be. "I just received this letter."

Astrid shook the parchment covered in Mother's script.

"I see," Idunn said as she set her book aside. "Am I to congratulate you?"

"'Your sister Heidrun has been safely delivered of a son, Brunin'," Astrid read. "'Mother and son are well and resting'. She goes on about his darling little beard and his full head of hair for a page, do you want to read it?"

She passed the letter to Idunn, who skimmed over Mother's writing, her facial expression altering with every line. "'Strongest boy born in a generation' she says. The sentiment's not shocking, I suppose."

"He's spoiled already, I'm sure, but what else is Mother to do?" Astrid could imagine how her sister's demands would have increased now that she had delivered the baby, and she did not regret being safely tucked away in Erebor.

"She ends by inviting the Lady Dís to visit and pay her compliments in person?" Idunn said. "That's bold."

That line had given Astrid a momentary fit of worry. She may be betrothed to the Crown Prince, but she wasn't entirely sure that gave Mother leave to address Lady Dís in such a familiar way. Nor, the more she thought of it, could she be sure Mother hadn't also written to Dís herself, to extend such generous invitations directly. Astrid would hint in her return letter that such a request wasn't yet prudent, and hope for the best. Mother didn't always take to hints.

"Heidrun and Mother both will be acting as though he's the first dwarfling ever to be born."

"Is he not? Your mother states right here that it was the best, fastest, and cleanest delivery Heidrun's midwife had ever seen."

"She means well, but her boasting grates so."

"I can only guess what your father and Bruni think of all of this. She makes no mention of them."

"She has probably given them no thought at all since Brunin was born." Astrid covered her face with her hands. "I'm a terrible daughter to say so."

"Astrid, there's no harm in seeing the faults of those around you and learning a lesson from them. Perhaps that's why your parents chose me as your companion - the better for you to learn from my failures." Idunn gave a wry smile but Astrid wasn't to be dissuaded from her convictions so easily.

"Don't joke, I am in earnest. I fear for the wedding, when Lady Dís and King Thorin will finally meet Mother." She could just imagine the sorts of injudicious comments Mother might say. From all she knew of Dís and Thorin, none of them would go over well.

"By then the whole family will love you so much, they will take no notice of your mother's...oddities."

"That's my hope." Mahal willing.

"So," Idunn said with a small smile, "you have decided there will be a wedding?"

She trembled at the thought, but it wasn't an unpleasant sensation. The idea of being Fíli's wife was hope and anticipation and happiness all mixed together. "Yes," she admitted softly. "For my part, yes."

"For your part?" Idunn repeated. "Do you have any reason to think Fíli feels differently?"

She thought of the way he held her hand as they walked, how so much seemed to be said in every small gesture. She thought of how patiently he read with her in the library, even after admitting reading wasn't one of his preferred pursuits. They seemed to understand one another, even without words.

"No," she said, "I am sure he feels the same."

That didn't stop her from wanting to hear the words.

"Steady him." Dwalin had one arm held fast under Fíli's shoulder as he helped him through Erebor's gates. Kíli clumsily tried to prop up Fíli's injured side, but the pain of that movement was too great. Fíli's shout echoed down the Main Hall, and Kíli drew his hands away.

"About the waist, lad," Dwalin said as he tried to wrangle Fíli into a new position.

As soon as he realized what they were doing, Fíli pushed at them, refusing their help. "I'll not be carried in like a baby."

"I'd rather you kept your feet, too, but your hollering is sure to bring an audience." Dwalin looked him in the eye, and Fíli saw a thread of worry running through his Captain's stoic facade. "Can you make it to the healing rooms on your own?"

Fíli nodded, and Dwalin released him, although he watched his every move. Cradling his injured side, Fíli turned towards the healing rooms. Closing his mind off to the pain, he followed the others and focused only on each footstep in turn. It had been rougher going outside as they made the long trek from Erebor's eastern foothills to the main gate in the dark. Now at least his footing was sure, but his head grew fuzzy from pain in his chest and the glancing blow that even now bled into his eyes.

After more painful steps than he cared to count they finally reached the infirmary. Dwalin led him to a cot and helped him sit down. Several of the other warriors from the skirmish lingered near the doorway, keeping watch. From some unknown corner came Óin, the old healer, who trotted up to examine him.

"Fíli?" he said, his voice thick with surprise and concern. "What's this?"

"Night raid on orcs," Dwalin said. "One surprised him with a blow to the chest and a second took advantage with one to the head."

It was a polite way of saying he had been bested by mindless orc filth. If it hadn't been for his old shoulder injury he might have avoided both strikes, but as it was, one slow reaction had cost him. That he could take such hits in such a small skirmish was shameful.

"So I see." Óin pressed wet rags to Fíli's scalp, and the numbness there suddenly burst into flame. Kíli looked on, ashen and quiet, as the healer worked to clean the wound. Fíli was not so bad off that his brother should keep a vigil, but he couldn't bear to send him away, either.

"It's a nasty cut," Óin said as he inspected it. "I'll need to stitch it."

"It can't be hidden," Kíli said with a groan. "How will we explain it to Thorin?"

"We'll tell him the truth," Fíli said. "It was only a matter of time until he found out. I can't go on sneaking around behind his back."

"He'll have us working in the mines."

"He should thank you for proving the Line of Durin is still a force to be reckoned with," Dwalin said with a deadly grin. "For all your injuries, you still killed the filth."

He didn't even know how he had done it. That instant where he'd known he was about to be struck but couldn't avoid it had seemed to stretch on in its torment. Then the blow to his ribs had fallen and before he'd recovered, his head had lit up with pain from a second strike. He'd flown into a rage like he'd never known before, dispatching the two orcs without thinking. The rest of the skirmish had spun around him in a confusion of howls and shouts until it was all over.

"I can give you something for the pain," Óin said, "but then I'd need to keep you here with me overnight."

"I can bear it," Fíli said. He had been a long-term resident in the healing rooms once before and had no wish to repeat his stay. Besides, what sort of fighter needed a tonic just to receive stitches?

Óin gave him a bracing look before he set to stitching his head wound. Fíli gritted his teeth as Óin worked the needle along the cut, each prick and pull a white-hot point of pain. He tried to distract himself, but no thought could crowd in through the burning pain. Luckily Óin was a fast worker, and the ordeal was soon over.

"What else?" Óin asked as he dabbed a salve along the stitches.

"His ribs," Dwalin said with a nod to Fíli's side. "Broken, I'd think."

Kíli and Óin helped him out of his layers of clothing until he sat on the cot in just his trousers. Beneath his bad shoulder his side and chest were a purple bruise where the orc cudgel had struck home. His mail had kept it from breaking the skin, but it had done enough damage even without. Óin's fingers gently touched and prodded, and he put his ear trumpet to Fíli's chest to listen to him breathe. When he finally pulled away, his face was grim.

"Three broken, but I don't believe anything's damaged on the inside. You'll need to be bound, and go easy on the arm for at least a month."

"I already go easy on that arm."

"Then it shouldn't be a problem, should it?" Dwalin said with a wink. His confidence was a boon, and Fíli gave a return smile. The pain was only temporary. He could endure it.

"There," Óin said once Fíli's chest was bound, "how do you feel?"

"Like a brazier."

Even if he hadn't needed stitches from his eyebrow to his ear, he still wouldn't have been able to keep his injuries secret from Thorin. The broken ribs were like fire in his chest, nonstop pain that made even breathing feel like too much to endure. The binding had brought a measure of comfort, but not enough to bring him anything close to normal.

He slipped on his tunic with slow and careful movements, and Dwalin took up his mail and leather coats. When at last he stood, wincing from the effort, the warriors waiting in the infirmary doorway burst into applause. Their shouts of praise cheered Fíli enough to make him forget his pain for a moment, until Óin shushed them all from the healing rooms.

"You'll wake the whole Mountain," Dwalin said with a spark of joy in his eyes. He sent his soldiers off to their own beds before walking with Fíli and Kíli to the royal corridors.

"Who is more likely to kill us?" Kíli asked. "Mother, or Thorin?"

"Mother will be proud," Fíli said between aching breaths. "Thorin..." He exchanged a look with Dwalin, who arched an eyebrow.

Confessing their night raids to Thorin just might turn out to be more painful than Fíli's broken ribs.

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