11
The door opened silently and Fíli tiptoed into the treasure room, looking for Thorin.
Those who knew about Thorin's condition, all advised him against visiting his uncle. 'He's unstable', they said. Or: 'He doesn't even notice if you don't go. He completely ignores Kíli's absence.' Sometimes they tried to reason with him on the matter, mentioning that 'No one knows how his mind works now. He can see you as a threat, attack you and you are far too valuable to be lost.' They also said that 'Thorin is so obsessed, we have no idea what makes it worse. Why would your presence here help when nothing else does?' And anyway, 'You are needed elsewhere, Fíli.'
Fíli was always needed elsewhere.
He had so many reasons not to come. Thorin was never pleased to see him. Fíli did not know so much about him as Dwalin or Dís. Thorin cared less and less about living things. Yet…
Yet, Fíli felt responsible for him. He knew that he was too young and too inexperienced, he had no considerable skill to help Thorin. He was always angry and devastated when he left, and sometimes he hated Thorin for the things he had said or done.
Yet, Thorin was his uncle, and more.
He was the one who sat by his bed when he had had nightmares or had been sick; the one who had shown him how to fight and explained why fight at all; the one who had found his talents and helped him develop his skills. Thorin was more than his King or his Uncle; he was the Father he had barely known, the Mentor who affected his morals and the Idol he respected with awe and worshipped since his birth without a moment of wavering.
He could not watch him suffer and not try to be by his side.
At his first look, Thorin was nowhere in sight. Sometimes he was hard to find because of the mountains of gold: Thorin loved the gold, to touch it and adore it, bathing in it and simply lying on the surface, climbing to the top and eventually bury himself in it, the weight of the treasure almost crushing his body. Some would say these things were at least uncomfortable, even life-threatening. Thorin felt these activities quite natural. A soft clinking gave him away this time, and Fíli hurried toward the back of the room.
Thorin was kneeling before a pile of gold, both his hands full with coins. He was staring at the shiny pieces with wonder in his eyes, totally ignorant of the presence of another. Fíli felt a lump forming in his throat, so he coughed softly, also to warn Thorin of his arrival. He saw him tensing, and he spoke up before his uncle could lash out toward him.
"How are you today, Uncle?"
Thorin stood up and turned to him, slowly recognizing his nephew. His hard features softened, but his eyes still sparkled feverishly.
"Fíli! How good it is to see you," he slurred. Fíli felt the lump in his throat forming again.
"It is good to see you too, Uncle."
Thorin smiled in the crooked way he seemed to be capable of lately.
"I was told you would come today," he said approvingly. "It is a very fine day indeed. I am glad for your company."
"It is good to hear," Fíli nodded. "Who told you about my plans? I didn't tell anyone."
"You did not need to. Our treasure knew your intention. Here, have a touch. The gold has spoken to me, and wishes to speak to you, too." He stretched out his palm, offering a handful of coin to him. Fíli took it, and the lump in his throat grew bigger.
Usually, Thorin was fiercely protective of his treasure, and no one argued. They advised Fíli not to touch anything if he couldn't keep himself away, in safety.
Sometimes though, Thorin was in a sharing mood, but only with him. Fíli did not understand why or by what pattern this happened, and Thorin never behaved this way to anyone except for him. He was always watching carefully, ever the stern guard, but sometimes…
During these occasions, Fíli always had tons of memories filling his mind. He and Thorin always had a special bond since Thorin named him as his heir. They had much in common; the importance of their role and ruling over people, taking responsibility for things they could not help, helping where they had not the skill, looking at the bigger picture and not dwelling on common facts and turns of life; things they could share with no one else.
Thorin had to feel this bond, Fíli had always believed. Now, when his mind was clouded, he still seemed to be aware of it. Fíli had always relied more on the experienced dwarf; now he felt Thorin needed him more. An offer of a handful of coins sounded as a cry for acceptance and understanding, and while Fíli did not understand, nor was in a position to accept the sickness, he took the gold and weighed it in his hand.
"Do you hear it?" Thorin asked eagerly, and Fíli couldn't decide that the slight undertone of desperately seeking approval was the making of his imagination or real.
He looked at the gold in his hand and felt nothing. He shook it carefully, the clinking sound unbearable to his ears, then closed his eyes. The urge to please his uncle made him listen harder and harder; he always wanted to make him proud, and if it meant to hear words from coins, he would try. He knew how very foolish it sounded, so he opened his eyes and looked at Thorin.
Thorin was smiling softly, looking almost happy, and it broke his heart. He could not tell him how sick he was. He put the coins into his other hand, just to do something.
"Do you not hear it?" Thorin asked, his expression becoming confused, as if he was sure about the gold whispering to Fíli, too.
"Sssh, Uncle. It's very quiet and I don't spend so much time here as you do."
Thorin's face lit up. He dropped the remaining coins, and reached for Fíli. Fíli had to force himself not flinching away by reflex, but Thorin only pulled him to a large pile, kneeling again. He was caressing the surface like a lover's body.
Fíli couldn't help flinching this time. He did not have a lover anymore, he should not ever think of her again. Thorin noticed his hesitation.
"Don't be afraid. This is your birthright and you should learn to take care of it. The treasure is grateful to be reclaimed from the dragon, and if you cherish her… come, you should feel that contentment. There are no secrets, no forced obedience, only clarity and a calmness we have never known before."
Fíli shuddered by the tumble when he called it 'her'. Still, he caressed the shiny treasure, appreciating the beauty, and suddenly, he felt at home. This was his birthright, the work of his ancestors, the example to follow.
Time slowed down or hurried away, he couldn't say, but in this moment, he could sympathize with his uncle. The treasure stayed. Everything else changed, people had left and cheated and deceived and… they always let you down in a way, while the treasure you cherished stayed and cherished you and never hurt you, because it was always, always people who hurt you in different creative ways.
Suddenly, he sobered up and panic filled him. Were these thoughts the first sign of the sickness? They couldn't be. He looked at Thorin, and his pleased expression scared him even more. He looked at his hands: they were shaking.
"Did you hear?" Thorin's excited whisper sounded like a dwarfling sharing some newfound information to his confidant.
Fíli nodded.
Then, Thorin hugged him. His arms were too tight around his chest; he did not even touch people for a long time, let alone hug someone. He was much thinner than before, but his weight was crushing Fíli, as if the weight of the burdens in his mind were added to the weight of his body. Fíli could barely breath, and the lump in his throat started growing again. Thorin was murmuring unformed words into his hair, like he did so many times during his childhood… Fíli felt an ache to sob like a child, but he knew that this time, contrary to any kinds of appearances, he was less in need of comforting than the other dwarf.
Fíli always thought that through their bond, he could sometimes help him a little.
But the times when their bond proved to be stronger than the sickness were the hardest; he felt emotionally drained and physically hurt by it, and no matter how strong their bond was, it was never enough.
Now, he panicked.
He never considered the option that the strength of their bond will pull him down with Thorin, to the depths of the mind he always feared.
.
When he stepped out of the treasure room, the usual wave of frustration attacked him stronger. He started back toward their living quarters, but after turning a few corner, his breathing was ragged and he had to halt to pull himself together.
It was not frustration anymore. It was paralyzing fear, fear of falling; fear, he had felt only ever once. Then, it took years to fully overcome it, with much care by Mother, Kíli, Thorin and the Company. He hated to be afraid.
He concentrated on his breathing. Inhale, exhale, slowly, counting. He counted continuously, until the suffocating pain in his lungs disappeared.
What was he afraid of now? He tried to formulate the words in his mind, and after long struggle, he could utter the words:
"I cannot fall to gold sickness." It was not good enough; not encouraging, not at all. What helped him through his battles the last time, then? "I have a family, they care about me." Except it was untrue, this time. He felt panic rise in him. No, no, no. No! Don't panic, dare not panic. You did it once. You will do it again. Day after day, if you must. You have to do many day after today before there is rest. No rest for the wicked. I am not Thorin. But I am not wicked, WHAT?
A smile fought its way to his lips. When his mind could wander away from the strict road appointed by his fears, he knew he was alright again. Sort of.
He thought about it again, and said the words.
"I have no family this time." He sighed. "I am alone. Yet, I will not be obsessed again with paranoid images created by my mind." Obsession, he hated. He remembered the days when he maniacally stayed in the Mountain, staying away from Ravenhill and the outside world, thus also depriving himself from being strategically adept. Later, he was obsessed with not being obsessed. Lately, he wondered if he was obsessed with Alys, too; another reason to break up with her. What they had… it was unhealthy, beautiful… He wished that she cared for him enough to convince him to stay. She was a breath of fresh air, sunshine, the freedom, everything he once feared and now craved.
Why did he push her away?
He saw her a few times since the break up. She was practically glowing, and didn't look sad at all. He once saw her on the arms of another dwarf, a guard, and they stood too close to his liking. So she moved on, he thought. It didn't take long. She was angry at him, though, her glances told as much. She never looked at him more than once at a time, and only to radiate some anger to him, showing that she knew of his presence, then feigned ignorance.
He hated her for the new guy, but he couldn't help wondering about her anger. Was she hurt or was she simply hateful for screwing up? He was hurt, for sure. Angry, too. But also wishful; to feel her again, and again, jealous of the new guy. Was he fucking her? He hoped not, but he wasn't sure. It would not be a smart thing to reveal her true self to a second guy so soon.
Why was he still thinking of her, by the way? Fíli pushed himself up and continued his route back. At least while he was thinking of her, gold had no way to worm itself into his mind.
.
He was useless during the day's meeting, so he cut it short. Balin tried to protest, but since Glóin made his support clear, he felt more confident. People seemed to listen to him, even the strictest of his councilors. It felt good.
He decided to go out, to clear his mind a bit. He started toward the place he showed to Alys; it was outside, secluded, and no one knew except for her, who probably would not go there. This would be a perfect occasion to close their affair in his mind, too. He sat down on the shelf and smiled bitterly at the memories. He lit his pipe, and enjoyed the quiet, the smoking creating a calm, pure perfection to forget about his troubled soul. He caught himself smiling for nothing, but it meant that he was on a good track back to normalcy.
He sat there until after sunset.
To his surprise, he heard movement near the entrance; he went to check it. He had a sneaking suspicion who could be there, and he hoped to be wrong. The last person he needed right now was Alys; why would she come here at all? Maybe she brings her new loverboy. Rage washed over him at the thought. He decided the battle in him fast: he would sit back and simply not care.
After all, it was his place first, let her do the explaining.
He heard her gasp when she noticed him, but he kept ignoring her. She fumbled a bit to climb back inside, and he started to relax, when she sighed deeply and turned back.
"I had no idea I would find you here," she said, her voice slightly trembling. Probably she was nervous, Fíli supposed, and he did not reply.
"Fine. Ignore me. But I am staying. I need some… solitude. I guess we would not disturb each other," she announced, and Fíli growled in annoyance. He shuffled farther from her, but she did not react. Does she care so little? Then, she pulled out a pipe – her own piece, it seemed. This perplexed him. Smoking was uncommon among unmarried dwarrowdams, and she did not smoke while they were together. Surely he would have known…
"Stop staring," she said a bit aggressively, while fumbling with filling it.
"Sorry," he mumbled, but he couldn't stop curiously glancing at her. She finally managed to prepare her pipe and lit it, slowly inhaling the smoke.
"I did not know you smoked," he tried to start conversation. Her peaceful expression tensed, and he almost regretted his rash comment for the way she looked at him.
"I didn't. And you don't need to know. Did you not say you will ask nothing of me?"
The quote cut too deep.
I am sorry, he thought, but did not say. What was the point? Even if she cared, their affair was an unnecessary complication.
"I am coming here every night to smoke," she announced. "It is not an invitation, but I know that you have a tight schedule, and it is possible that the only time you are free to come you will find me here. Just… so you know that now. I don't mind to find you here. You are free to do as you wish. It is not my place, anyway, it's ours, and we shall learn to share. Shall we not? I will not ask anything. Like you. I mean, you said, you will not, and neither will I, and I will just smoke, like I'm doing now."
She shut up, but he found her rambling speech quite endearing. He smiled for himself, but he had no idea how to reply, so he just sat in silence, and she too.
