After the dishes were washed it could be delayed no longer: the company had to move. It wasn't something than any of them were looking forward to but the prospect of sitting on the doorstep of Goblin Town after nightfall and risking being close enough for the goblins to easily mount an attack was an idea that they liked even less than the idea of trying to move their wounded King. But even if it couldn't be delayed, there were still complications to sort out before they could move. One of these complications was how to redistribute the gear. While they were glad that they had managed to escape with all of their packs—even if they had lost the ponies and most of the food—they provided a difficulty to an already difficult situation.
Dwarves, while durable and strong, were not completely tireless. None of them save for Thorin had had any kind of sleep and they were begging to feel it. Add to their weariness the fact that most of their own packs had been nearly filled to the point that they were too much, and suddenly the fact that all of the gear had been saved was a burden not a boon. Neither Thorin nor Kíli were in any condition to carry packs and the gear they had carried now had to be divided between the others.
Though Thorin had remained silent on the matter, it was clear that he was displeased that he had to be coddled in such a way. However, he knew that they were right. There was no way that he could carry a pack. He wasn't entirely sure that he could move himself, let alone bear the weight of a pack on his wounded shoulders and even if he could . . . if he was burdened by a pack he would only slow them more and put them at even more risk. It was this knowledge that led to his silence. He felt no need to draw further attention to his own weaknesses.
Kíli, however, had no such qualms. He protested vehemently that he was perfectly capable of carrying his pack and refused to hear any arguments against his ability to do so. He argued that he had carried it from Goblin Town and that he would carry it from there. When it was clear that he would not see reason, Dwalin had resorted to other—more physical—means to convince the boy of his inability. All it took was a barely-there touch to his back from the warrior to drive the young heir to his knees from pain. With a look that was both smug and sad, Dwalin shook his head at Kíli. That was the end of that argument but it wasn't the end of the arguments before they set out.
The next major dispute involved Thorin. With much effort—and many grimaces and foul words in both Khuzdul and the common tongue—Thorin had managed to get back into the first layer of his clothing with Balin's help. But when Balin tried to help him into the next layer . . . that was when they hit the next point of contention: his armored shirt.
The company felt that with his injuries hampering his ability to fight it would be nearly suicidal for him to walk around in naught but an undershirt. They intended to protect him with their lives, but that would be an easier task if he wasn't such an easy target. Thorin was having none of it.
He had started out, much like Kíli had, protesting the need for such protection stating that he was capable of defending himself if the need arose even with his wounds. None of them had the heart to point out that the King couldn't even get to his feet without help and if he couldn't manage that then there was no way that he could wield a sword in battle. Instead, they focused on the fact that it was as much for their benefit as his as they could better defend themselves if they weren't quite as worried for him.
After this had gone on for longer than Thorin believed that it should, Thorin finally snapped. "I cannot bear it!" he said looking desperately at Balin begging his friend to understand. "Do you hear me? I cannot bear it! I understand that by going without it I put not only myself but all of you in danger but I can't wear it. Even the weight of this cloth is almost too much. I can't even . . . no."
"So what should we do?" Balin asked sarcastically. He understood where Thorin was coming from but this was foolishness on his part. He understood that his friend was trying to minimize his own pain, but this would perhaps keep him alive if they were attacked.
"Should we carry perfectly good armor?" Balin finished the question. Thorin sighed and for a brief moment Balin believed that he had won the argument. But then the king looked at him once more.
"Fíli can wear it," Thorin said obstinately. As far as he was concerned it was an elegant solution. "I can't wear it. It's foolish to carry it. By your reasoning that I should since I'm injured, Kíli would actually be the next logical suggestion, but as he can't bear to be touched I doubt he could stand the weight of that on his wounds. Of the royal family that leaves Fíli. And he actually is the next logical choice—even above Kíli—at any rate as my heir. He should wear it." The company saw it as a brilliant solution. Even if they would prefer Thorin to be protected, Fíli was the next in line if anything happened to his uncle and if Thorin couldn't wear it, Fíli should.
Thorin's nephews, on the other hand . . . neither of them liked that solution. Kíli, who was still feeling vulnerable after what he had said to his brother and done to his uncle, saw the bit about Fíli being the logical choice above him as a slight against his worth to his uncle and the fact that none of the others had protested a sign of their views on his worth as well. Fíli saw the bit out Kíli being his uncle's first suggestion as Thorin choosing Kíli's well-being over his yet again.
"No," Fíli said bitterly as Balin tried to hand the shirt to him. He looked past Balin at his uncle, his blue eyes cold as ice, "You were right. Kíli should wear it. Can't let the youngest incur any risk after all. He has to be protected no matter the cost. Right, Uncle?" Thorin flinched at the ice in Fíli's tone as well as the accusation there. What he had feared was true: Fíli didn't just hate Kíli. He hated them all. Even himself.
"Fíli," the youngest began quietly, pain in his brown eyes at both the hurt he could see in his brother and that he had become a point of contention between his uncle and brother. "No, you should—"
"I wasn't talking to you," Fíli snapped, rounding on Kíli with hatred in his eyes. "No one wants your opinion so you just stay out of this!" Kíli's face crumpled at the words as if his brother had slapped him. Fíli had never spoken to him like that! It nearly broke his heart to see his brother look at him like he was and to hear such angry words hurled at him. Fíli watched as tears filled his brother's eyes but couldn't bring himself to care. He was even vaguely pleased that Kíli was experiencing even a hint of the pain that he had put Fíli through in the caves.
"Fíli," Thorin began trying desperately to draw his eldest's attention from his youngest. Once he did it was everything he could do to keep from flinching at the pain and anger he saw in Fíli's blue eyes. It broke his heart that his heir had been so broken.
"What, Uncle?" Fíli snarled. "Will you tell me that I'm wrong? That everything that you endured, everything that I endured . . . will you tell me that it wasn't for him?" he glared at his brother once more, fury twisting his young features until they were almost unrecognizable. "You can barely stand and I . . . and then he wasn't even grateful! He saw! He saw what we did for HIM and he spat on it!"
"Fíli," Thorin tried again, his tone edging towards desperation as he tried to reach his nephew underneath the rage that seemed to have possessed him. It didn't work.
"TELL ME I'M WRONG, UNCLE!" the blonde dwarf demanded, his eyes wild. "Tell me that he didn't behave like a selfish dwarfling! You shouldn't have let Mother bully you into bringing him! He should have stayed at home!"
"Fíli, that's enough!" Thorin snapped. He understood that the lad was upset, but this was neither the time nor the place to air his grievances. The company did not need to hear this argument. Kíli did not need to hear it. Thorin knew that Fíli didn't truly mean the things that he said about his brother—or he hoped so at least—but even if he did this was an argument between Thorin and Fíli and he could see how every word that left his eldest's mouth affected his youngest. With every word that Fíli yelled, Kíli curled further into himself as if trying to ward off physical blows. Yes, Thorin could understand Fíli's need to vent, but he could not allow this tirade to continue. It was only winding Fíli up more and hurting Kíli in the process. No good would come of it.
"We are not having this conversation here," Thorin said in a tone that left no room for argument. "You and I will discuss this later, in private, if you still wish it once you have calmed down a bit. But even there I will not allow you to say that your brother should not have come. He—"
Fíli cut his uncle off with a mirthless laugh, a sound filled with incredulity and pain. "I should have known," he said quietly, tears forming in his eyes, "especially after what just happened. Of course you would take his side. You've always preferred him over me. Even last night."
"In case you've forgotten," Thorin replied coldly, "it was you that informed me that you would do whatever it took to keep him safe. Even if it meant killing me." He had intended to have this discussion in private, but such an accusation could not go unanswered. He had never shown preference to one boy over the other and he would not allow Fíli to claim that he had.
"I never said that!" Fíli yelled. "I never said that I would kill you. That was you! You were the one that told me that if they asked me to pick that I should choose Kíli. And I did, Uncle. I chose his life over your health and my sanity. I chose Kíli, just as you ordered me to." Thorin flinched at the quiet pain there at the end of his speech. He knew that doing what he had needed to had hurt Fíli, but he didn't realize that was what had broken him. He had thought that it was Kíli's words that had destroyed his blonde nephew.
"You may not have said it," Thorin whispered, attempting to remind Fíli just how much he had loved his brother just a day before and give him something to cling to as the guilt of his actions ate at him, "but you would have done it even had I not have said it." At Thorin's words, Fíli's face crumpled and the fury fell away before he looked away from the understanding in his uncle's blue eyes. It was true. He would have. He would have taken his uncle's life to save his brother and Kíli hadn't cared. He felt anger begin to resurface with that last thought.
"Fíli," Thorin tried again, reaching for his nephew. He had seen the anger leave his nephew and thought that he had a chance to fix the situation between his nephews. "Fíli, you can't blame Kíli for what happened. You—"
"So what, Uncle?" Fíli demanded, his temper rising once more at the idea that his Uncle might think that he was to blame for Thorin's injuries. This time, rather than direct itself at Thorin for his favoritism or his stubbornness in refusing to answer the Goblin King's question, it turned on Kíli. The entire situation could be blamed on him. If he would have just kept his fool mouth shut, the Goblin King would never have realized that he and Thorin were related and none of this would have happened. Everything that Fíli had been forced to do could be traced back to Kíli and now Thorin was blaming him for it!
"SO WHAT!?" he screamed, a feral sound filled with pain and frustration and anguish. "It's MY fault? 'My actions were my own' just like Kíli's words? No, Uncle, this is all HIS fault! And deep down, you know it." With one final cold glare at Kíli—who was looking at his brother as though Fíli had just run him through with a sword—the eldest heir of Thorin stalked off down the path leaving a flabbergasted company in his wake.
Thorin stood there for a moment in shock at what had just happened before he turned to the group. "What are you waiting for?" he asked, his voice quiet and filled with emotional pain. "Fíli has led the way. Move out." With a few pitying glances at Thorin and a couple of gentle pats to Kíli's bowed head, they left, following the rapidly moving blonde head of Fíli.
"Dwalin, a word?" Thorin called, halting the large dwarf and bring him back to his side. "I'm not sure how to ask this," Thorin began slowly, his eyes never leaving the distraught form of Kíli who was now weeping into Bilbo's shoulder. Then with a sigh they flicked in the direction that Fíli had gone before they came back to rest on Dwalin.
"I never thought I'd need to ask this, but—"
"I'll keep an eye on him," Dwalin promised in a whisper. "Fíli'll get over this eventually and until he does I'll make sure that he doesn't hurt anyone. Poor lad doesn't need anything else to beat himself up over."
Thorin nodded his thanks and waited until Dwalin broke into a jog to catch up with the irate blonde before he turned and walked slowly to where Kíli, Bilbo and Bofur were.
"Kíli," Thorin said quietly, trying to keep the pain that moving caused his wounds out of his voice to keep from upsetting his nephew further. When the lad didn't reply, he tried again. "Kíli, we need to get moving. I don't' know about you, but I will not be going anywhere quickly today. If we want to cover any ground before nightfall we need to begin." Thorin flinched as Kíli suddenly released Bilbo and threw himself into his uncle's arms, his fingers unintentionally digging into the wounds on Thorin's back as he clung to his uncle and wept. Thorin shifted slightly to try to move Kíli's head from one of his more painful wounds before tangling his hand in his nephew's chestnut hair and leaning his cheek against the top of Kíli's head.
"Uncle," Kíli sobbed. "He . . . He. . . " Even though Thorin wasn't quite sure what his nephew wanted to say, he gave the only answer that he could.
"I know, Kíli. I know."
ooOO88OOoo
There we are all, a new chapter of this one :) I hope that you enjoyed it :)
As always, thank you to everyone who took the time to read this chapter or to add it to your alerts or favorites.
And a special thank you to those of you who reviewed. Y'all really make my day!
shanynde: Thank you! I hope that you enjoy the rest of the story!
Dwíli: Thank you! I'm glad that you didn't think that it was crap :) And it is so hard to keep making them fight, I just want everyone to kiss (metaphorically of course as this WILL NOT be a Durincest) and make up. But there IS a forgiving scene written, I swear it! And by that I mean just that. They have much more to go through before they are fixed and things may get nasty before they are fine (I'm not sure as it's not written yet) and I agree with you! Both positive and negative criticism is important (though I have found that I am much harder on myself than you lot are on me) and publishing is the hardest thing to do but it is so rewarding :) You really should give it a go :) And don't you love it when things do things without your permission ;) And thank you for your kind words :) don't worry, I do intend to continue writing :)
Well, that's all for now folks! I hope you enjoyed it and would love to hear what you thought (even if you hated it) so please leave me a review if you have time and/or feel so inclined.
Stickdonkeys.