I apologize for the late update, but I decided that making this story up as I go along is a bit dangerous for the climax, so I wrote like a maniac all of last night and this afternoon until I finished it. You can expect two more chapters after this one.
If you don't know "Song of the Exile," also known as "Vanora's Song" from the film King Arthur, then I suggest you have a listen on YouTube, for I shamelessly stole and modified it here.
Now, take a deep breath, but trust me, don't hold it…
Brothers
Chapter 14: Weaving a Spell
As Dakog roared Thorin's name, asking him to come out of hiding, Fili a spotted glow in the east and a small patch of calm formed amid the turmoil of his soul. He couldn't tell why, though, because day or not, there was no escaping what was about to happen.
A torch was lit beside him, and he watched the burning drops of oil fall from the shaft and splatter onto the stone below them. The orange and black of the fire and oil were so simple, yet so elegant… and the only thing in this world that could command his focus, for he fast felt that he was fading.
His identity was dissolving like a drop of ink in water. He knew he was Fili, the heir of Thorin Oakenshield, but what did that mean, really? Thorin had no kingdom, and so he was actually an heir of nothing but air, which was fitting for the words sounded the same. And inheriting air made just as much sense as everything else about his title, for it was nothing. He had never given it much thought, but now he was forced to. Because it was that very label that had brought so much ill upon him and those he loved most in the world. It was that title, that non-existent thing, that would be his ruin.
And it wasn't fair, Fili thought as Dakog once more bellowed for his uncle to show himself. Because if he was going to be responsible for bringing down his family, he'd rather it at least be something he was responsible for rather than an accident of birth. Heir had never been a part of him.
Fili was cold mountain wind and pony sweat, stitching hides and ale songs. He was a brother and a son and a nephew; a lover of snow and an eater of ripe berries. He was Fili, and Fili was so much more than an heir, and yet here he was, this non-thing, this non-Fili, killing him.
Dakog spun about to face him, his taunting done, and though Fili once more focused his mind on the present and the fiend before him, he was no longer all there. A part of him was still wandering a snow-covered path, hunting a fox, as if clinging to that shred of who he was could stop all of this insanity over who he wasn't.
"Fetch me a brand," Dakog snarled, and one of the orcs descended the stairs. "Let's see just how invincible the dwarf who doesn't need to eat or drink actually is."
Sweat broke through his skin, prickling and tickling his chest and the back of his neck, despite his exterior calm. He was about to be tortured into luring his uncle to his death. And there was nothing he could do to stop it, save hurling himself off of the wall, which was next to impossible with the orcs restraining him.
Down below, in the belly of the fortress, Kili watched an orc stick a metal spike into a fire, smiling as he heated the tip. Kili's hands were still latched around that of the orc restraining him by his hair, and while he couldn't hear what Dakog had said to his brother, seeing the heating metal was enough.
Panic rose in his breast like so many birds taking flight, and Kili lunged to stop the orc withdrawing the brand and turning towards the stairs, only to be yanked back into place by his hair. Hissing, Kili tried again, but this time the orc restraining him snarled and brought up his knee, catching him hard in the side.
For a moment, his nerves were consumed with fire, building to a terrible crescendo that he wanted, needed to let out as a scream. Instead, his body crumpled as his vision went black and all he could hear was his heartbeat.
Fighting through the confusing haze, Kili sucked in a rasping lungful of air past his sore throat, and suddenly the world exploded with light and color as he could see again. Sluggish and suspended as he was, Kili watched the orc climb the stairs with the brand, headed for his brother.
Kili felt like he was floating, for his body and all of the horrible messages from it seemed to have disappeared. A dark, primal part of him knew why, and whispered death into the ear of his soul. But he didn't listen. He couldn't listen. Not while Fili needed him.
Dakog tore off the pathetic remains of Fili's soiled tunic, exposing his bare chest as the orc baring the brand approached.
"If I can't get him," Dakog purred. "Then this is sure to."
Snatching up the brand, he didn't even give Fili a moment to steel himself before he pressed the scalding metal to his back.
For a split second, Fili was still tracking a fox through the snow with only a slight, tingling warmth against his spine. Then he was wrenched into the smoke and putrid leather and burning flesh of his surroundings as his skin burned so hot that it was cold. Something tightened in his chest, swelling and twisting until it escaped past his lips in a ragged scream.
Kili gasped at the tortured sound that clawed out of his brother, and in that moment, he could feel his legs again and remembered that he was on his knees with an orc's hand in his hair.
Blinking to clear his fuzzy vision, Kili reminded himself of where he was and what was happening. Leaning forward to antagonize the orc, he earned a yank that sent shooting, invigorating pain through his scalp and skull, waking him up further.
On the hilltop, Dis faltered in her task of filling a ceramic drinking mug with tar as her son's scream reached her ears. Thorin hastily corrected her hands, not wanting to waste any of the precious black syrup, despite the hair rising on the back of his neck.
"Oh Durin," Dis whispered, her arms shaking. "That was my boy."
Without a word, Thorin took the cup and kettle from her and finished the task.
"That was my boy," Dis repeated brokenly, clawing at her bodice and clutching her collar.
Thorin stuffed the top of the mug with moss then set it with the other four makeshift projectiles scavenged from his and Dis' trail supplies.
"Ignore it," he growled.
"How?" Dis asked, shakily unsheathing her sword. "I've already lost him before… what a cruel trick to have him returned, only to be tortured and –"
"That," Thorin snapped. "Is exactly the place you cannot let your mind go."
Thorin shoved Kili's quiver and bow, which he had found at the base of another pine, knotted with twine, oddly enough, into his sister's arms. While she wouldn't have ever been his first choice to take on such a mission as this, she was all he had, and he had been grateful for the help when she arrived. Now, though, her inexperience was showing. Or rather, he reminded himself, she was voicing what he was too afraid to.
"Keep yourself together," he said, untying Zharr. "You're not at home. You can't shut yourself in your room and abandon me to nurse Kili back from the brink of death because you're too weak to face it."
Dis narrowed her eyes, sneering. "I didn't abandon you –"
"You all-but abandoned him."
"I am here, aren't I?" she snapped, and as Thorin turned around to face her, he saw the fire glinting in her eyes. She was no longer shaking and looked ready to tear his arms off. Good. Then the antagonism had served its purpose in anchoring her to the here and now.
Thorin inclined his head. "That hatred you feel – that grief and anger – harness it. Use it. It isn't your enemy. It will be the surest guide of your arrows." He looked at the quiver in her hands before mounting his pony.
Dis stiffly nodded, hugging the weapons to her chest. Thorin held out a hand and Dis handed the makeshift jars of tar up to him. He carefully tucked them into his nearest saddlebag then looked to the approaching dawn.
Locking eyes with his sister again, he softened his gaze. "Dis?"
Her blue eyes met his, her shoulders square.
"You know I cannot guarantee anything, but we're doing all we can."
"I know," she said quietly, and her voice was much steadier. "They'd be dead before I could ride back with help."
Thorin nodded then gathered up his reins. "At my signal."
Dis inclined her head and slung the quiver over her shoulder, her jaw set, even as Fili screamed again, his cry echoing across the plains like a wolf yowl.
Kili couldn't stifle his own whimper and wanted to crumple into the ground at the sound of his brother in such agony as the brand was pressed to Fili's back again. The orcs may be torturing his brother's body instead of his, but they were still tearing holes in Kili's soul.
"Stop," Kili whispered.
He could see Fili up on the wall, his shoulders heaving as he growled with each breath, fighting to hide the pain as best he could. But it wouldn't be enough. Kili knew from his own pain that courage was never enough.
He couldn't save his brother, and that realization made him weaker than he'd ever been in his life. But he could help him by using the only thing left undamaged.
"Land of bear and land of eagle," Kili rasped out, but his throat was dry, and he couldn't seem to get enough air into his lungs to make his voice heard. So he straightened, leaning back against the legs of the orc, and tried again. This time, his voice rang out, haunting and clear.
"Land of bear and land of eagle,
Land that gave us birth and blessing."
The orc restraining Kili growled in warning but didn't attempt to shut him up, perhaps because it was still afraid to place its hand so near the "mad dwarf's" mouth.
Fili stiffened as the song reached him from behind, and though he knew it to be a male voice, he couldn't help but remember his mother singing the song on quiet spring nights around the fire. He closed his eyes, latching onto the tune with every ounce of his consciousness, desperately seeking an escape from the melted skin on his back.
"Land that calls us ever homewards."
Fili mouthed the words, realizing the obvious with a jolt: his brother was singing to him.
"We will go home to the Lonely Mountain."
Kili paused for a breath, the wind tousling the free strands of his hair across his sweaty face as he peered up at his brother, searching for any sign that he had heard him.
Dakog sneered down at Kili, growling lowly and pressing the brand against Fili's back again as Kili's voice rang out the chorus.
"We will go home, we will go home,
We will go home to the Lonely Mountain.
We will go home to sing our songs,
We will go home to the Lonely Mountain."
To Dakog's surprise, though he held the brand against the fair dwarf for longer than before, Fili only let out a hiss as his lips moved silently with the words of the song.
Dakog growled. "Stop that racket!"
Kili narrowed his eyes and raised his voice as loud as he could.
"Land of freedom and land of heroes,
Land that gave us hope and memories."
His voice was joined by another, hoarser one as Fili joined in.
"Hear our singing, hear our longing,
We will go home to the Lonely Mountain," the brothers sang in unison, and upon hearing his brother's voice, Kili's grew all the stronger.
"We will go home, we will go home,
We will go home to the Lonely Mountain."
Dakog pressed the brand against Fili's back again, and in response, the dwarf's voice grew stronger.
The orcs were silent in the face of the brothers' unison, and even the orc restraining Kili hardly dared to breathe, for it seemed to the foul-minded creatures that in singing, the young dwarves were weaving a protective spell over each other.
"We will go home to sing our songs,
We will go home to the Lonely Mountain."
Dakog pressed the brand against Fili again and again, but it no longer elicited a reaction from the dwarf, who opened his eyes and met Dakog's green gaze, smiling faintly as he sucked in a lungful of air, belting out the lyrics. He and Kili's voices melded as one.
"Land of sun and land of moonlight,
Land that gave us joy and sorrow,
Land that gave us love and laughter,
We will go home to the Lonely Mountain."
Dis paused where she crept amid the grass in the dawn, allowing herself a moment to take in the goosebumps rippling her skin at the sound of her sons' strong voices.
Thorin was close enough to the fortress to make out the bodies and weapons of the orcs and bowed his head at what he heard. The melody haunted the plains, plaintive and hopeful: a song of exiles.
"When the land is there before us,
We have gone home to the Lonely Mountain."
All of his kin were far from their birthplace, and this never would've happened to his nephews had they been raised safe in Erebor as they should have been. His hatred of Smaug burned in his breast hotter than dragon's fire, and he tempered and directed the heat, as he had often done, towards a far more tangible threat.
With a shout, he spurred Zharr towards the fortress.
Kili's voice faded as his brother's grew in strength, for he didn't have the air to sing anymore.
"We will go home, we will go home,
We will go home to the Lonely Mountain."
Kili's body shook with each heartbeat and he swayed on his knees with every thump, the hand in his hair the only thing keeping him upright. The side of his body was wet and shaking. Though he knew his wound opening up again was a bad thing, it felt good to have it bleeding freely, washing away some of the fire.
Dakog roared, casting aside the iron when Fili once more failed to react. Hauling back his arm, he slugged Fili in the jaw, snapping the dwarf's head backwards with a spray of blood.
Fili coughed and spat as his cheek split, filling his mouth with red iron.
Dakog grinned. "Thought that would shut you up."
Fili blinked sluggishly, returning his gaze to Dakog, letting the blood drip freely from his damaged lip.
The two held each other's gaze even as a pony grunted below, followed by a war cry. Fili smiled and Dakog hissed, whipping around to peer down the wall, raising his fist to summon his subordinates.
"Oakenshield!" Dakog bellowed.
Thorin roared back in response as he galloped into view in the yellowing light of dawn.
"Cut him down!" Dakog commanded. "Cut him down!"
Something small flew out of Thorin's hand, arching through a crack in the rubble to shatter against the fortress floor. The orcs nearby dashed away from it at the explosion, and then cautiously crept forward, sniffing the air.
"It's pitch," one said, licking the black substance for confirmation. He laughed then, looking to his comrades. "It's only pitch!"
The other orcs began to laugh, even as another projectile shattered the dark, viscous liquid on the opposite wall, just missing Kili. He flinched as it shattered, but was filled with such a warm, eerie calm, as if he were on the verge of falling asleep, that he couldn't much be bothered by breaking dishware around him.
Dakog growled as Thorin screamed again, galloping in a circle around the fortress on his war pony, faster than any orc could aim. Arrow after arrow missed its mark and as he hurled another missile into the fortress, Dakog caught the scent of the substance within. Tar.
Shoving past the orcs holding onto Fili, Dakog roared at his subordinates below, infuriated by their stupidity.
"Fools!" Dakog bellowed, backing up to head to the stairs. "He means to set the place on –"
Something wrapped around the large orc's ankle, tripping him. Dakog fell so fast that he only just had time to register that he'd hit the ground before a boot rammed into his ribcage, sending him rolling towards the edge of the wall. He looked up just in time to see a flaming arrow reflected in the pale eyes of the fair-hired dwarf before he rammed his foot into his chest again, sending him over the edge of the wall.
Fili didn't hesitate and wrenched his elbows free of the stunned orcs restraining him. Spinning about to face them, he head-butted one then rammed his shoulder into the other, sending both falling into the heart of the fortress before facing the third with a snarl.
The third orc roared back and lunged, tackling Fili to the ground as the flaming arrow soared over the two, sticking into the dried grass of the fringes of the fortress floor, sending them up in smoke. Within moments, the flames found the speckled tar and ignited, climbing up the wall like a hungry beast, dripping fiery sweat that only spread the flames.
Upon seeing the fire, the orcs panicked and a chorus of squealing screams rent the air.
Dis smiled at the horrified sounds echoing out of the fortress then ignited another tar-tipped arrow before knocking it. Calming her breathing, she took aim at one of the points she and Thorin had singled out, then fired.
The orc on top of Fili withdrew a rusted blade and the dwarf rolled, tipping the beast off of him and over the wall, into the flames of the fortress below.
The orc restraining Kili let go and tripped over him as he tried to flee. The fall coughed air out of Kili's lungs, but as he landed closer to the flames, he thought of how good they felt, and how cold he must be to find their warmth so comforting.
Lifting his head, he watched as the orc who had restrained him got to his feet and scurried to the exit with a pack of others… only to be crushed by a massive stone as the piece of rubble fell, blocking the escape. In the flickering light of the flames, he thought he saw his uncle's face retreating into the shadows above the former exit.
Dakog's warg snapped and snarled, its tail between its legs as it whipped its head from side to side as the fire spread, encroaching upon its dais.
Fili growled when his burned back protested his movement as he sat up. Fumbling with the discarded blade, he braced the hilt between his knees then managed to saw the ropes on his hands until he was free. Rising shakily, he was forced to take several breaths to fight off his dizziness enough to see.
Below him was chaos.
The orcs swarmed and swelled like a flock of blackbirds as they threw themselves at every possible exit, trying to force a way out. Several caught on fire after falling into the flames, and their comrades did nothing to help them. Fili looked to the way he'd been brought into the fortress and saw the source of the loud thud he had heard moments before: a large piece of rubble blocked the path.
Smoke stung his eyes as the wind shifted, yet through it, on the opposite wall, was a climbing shape. It gained its feet and straightened, and Fili grinned, for he'd know that silhouette anywhere.
"Thorin!"
Thorin locked eyes with him across the flames, and even through the smoke, Fili could see his uncle's war-mask falter as he let out a cry of joy.
There was a crash below as one of the makeshift wooden supports for the fortress collapsed in a flurry of sparks. The movement caught Fili's attention and he hastily scanned the fortress floor, wincing against the smoke and the frigid agony of his back as he hunted for his little brother.
Spotting a soiled blue cloak, Fili spied Kili, crumpled on the ground against a wall, seemingly unconscious.
"Kili!" he bellowed, but his brother didn't stir.
"Fili," Thorin shouted across the way, motioning to him. "To me!"
Fili nodded, keeping the knife in his hand as he headed for the stairs.
Thorin's outburst hadn't gone unnoticed, and several desperate orcs began to scale the rubble-strewn stairs, trying to get to Thorin, for the dwarf stood on the shallowest portion of wall which was the easiest way out.
Shifting his sweaty grip on his hammer, Thorin readied to face the orcs. To his surprise, the first lunged, but not at him. The creature flung himself towards the edge of the wall, only to be cut down by a swift hammer blow to the shoulder. Thorin shifted his grip and brought the hammer down again, breaking the orc's spine.
With a roar, he spun about to face the next orc, then the next, cutting down each in turn as they fought tried to escape the inferno.
One orc on the fortress floor saw his comrades breaking before the Oakenshield. Scrambling, he squeezed himself through a crack, pinching and tearing his skin until he wiggled through and stumbled out onto the cool air of the outside world… only to spy yet another dwarf. It was in the grass, not five yards off. With a sniff, he realized that it was a female. Easy prey, no doubt.
Withdrawing his sword, the orc crept up behind the she-dwarf.
Fili limped his way down the steps, groaning as each one made the skin on his back feel like it was tearing a little more. He braced his hand against the wall, attempting to take some of the strain off his burns but to no avail. Dizziness swept over him once more and he screwed his eyes shut. Now was not the time to falter. He had to get to his brother. He had to get to Thorin.
Thorin cut down a fifth orc, his arms and chest burning from the effort, smoke stinging his lungs. Even as he fought the creature, he could see Fili in his peripheral vision, making his way down the stairs. But his nephew's progress was slow and halting, and the thought that these swine had so wounded him gave Thorin renewed strength.
Kili closed his eyes, thinking that he was drifting on a sluggish river. His mind split into two. One half registered the screaming orcs, stamping feet, and heat that glowed around him. But the other half, the soothing half, bathed him in water and reminded him that those sights and sounds were actually far away and nothing to be troubled about. Nothing to be troubled about…
Dis smelled the orc before she saw it. Stiffening, she noted just how sweaty her palm was on the hilt of her sword. Waiting until she could hear the creature's breathing, she whirled around with a sneer, her blade before her.
The orc seemed surprised but squealed and charged nevertheless.
Dis stumbled backwards, her eyes on the blade aimed at her belly. Then she thought of Kili's arrow wound and Fili's screams, and knew that this orc could have had a hand in it all. Reversing her steps, she braced her blade and charged the orc.
The creature was so surprised that it nearly stumbled when she sank her sword up to the hilt in his flesh. His yellow eyes blinked owlishly into her steely blue, and she didn't flinch, even as the orc's rusted blade left a thin cut on her bicep. She yanked the sword out of his chest with a grunt, watching with satisfaction as the reptilian creature crumpled at her feet.
Stumbling backwards, she turned her sword over in the dawn light, eyeing the black blood smeared on its blade. She had never killed anything bigger than a varmint before. While a part of her was afraid of the power she felt at ending a life, the voice that was loudest pulsed like a drum in her skull as she thought of her sons: Again. Again. Again!
Looking up at the wall her brother defended, she sheathed her sword and began to climb.
"Kili," Fili gasped, falling to his knees beside his brother as ash rained on them like snow. Blood slicked Kili's side, running down his leg, and Fili choked a little at the sight of it. He ran his hand through his brother's damp hair, bending as low over him as he dared stretch the burns on his back. The orcs screamed and scrambled around them but were so overcome by their primal panic that they paid their two prisoners no heed.
Despite his muscles and blood and brain crooning at him to succumb and sleep, Kili feared the ancient darkness that beckoned to him, for he instinctively knew that once he gave in, he would never feel the sun again. His brother's voice echoed, bouncing against the quiet corners of his soul. Kili latched onto it with everything he had.
Fili gently shook his brother's shoulder, calling his name again. To his immense relief, Kili opened his eyes and blinked sluggishly. Fili's mouth split into a grin and he cradled his brother's head to his chest as he released a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding. Relief flooded him with rejuvenating vigor.
Kili's eyes searched Fili's face for a moment before his pupils contracted as he recognized him, a small smile curling his lips. The darkness still whispered to him, but here was his brother, alive and well, and oh, so happy. He parted his lips to try to say Fili's name, but the darkness seemed to have stolen his voice.
"It's time to go home," Fili whispered, gripping his Kili's hand. "All you have to do is get up. Can you do that for me?"
I would do anything for you, Kili wanted to answer, but all he could manage was a nod.
Slipping an arm beneath Kili's shoulders, Fili gently helped his brother sit up then, gritting his teeth as his burns erupted like stabbing knives, he rose, bearing both of their weight. Kili's knees buckled as his world blacked out for a moment, and despite letting out a groan, Fili didn't let go.
"Wake up," Fili barked, jostling his brother. "Stay with me."
Kili sucked in a lungful of air then coughed when half of it was smoke. Fili watched him carefully, making sure he was breathing fine before glancing around at the locations of the orcs and the largest fires before all-but dragging his brother towards Thorin. The few orcs yet to succumb to the smoke seemed to have flocked to his uncle.
"Talk to me, Kili," Fili said, stumbling his way to the stairwell.
Kili took a breath to reply but his chest was cold because the darkness was still there, waiting, and it had stolen his words. So he placed his heel harder into the dirt, trying to bear more of his weight as his brother quaked and strained beneath his arm.
Fili cast his silent brother a worried look, sweat beading on his brow. More than the silence, he didn't like the fevered flush to his brother's cheeks, nor the glassy look in his eyes, as if he were only half there.
"We will go home," Fili chanted under his breath, approaching the stairwell that was strewn with bodies. "We will go home…" He peered up at Thorin who was too busy battling several orcs to help him. "Home."
Kili focused on his brother's voice, his step faltering as they began to navigate the stairs.
Yellow hair caught Thorin's eye, and his second of distraction cost him. The orc he was facing down plunged his sword into the dwarf's bicep, causing him to cry out and stumble. The other two orcs flanking him each let out triumphant cries and advanced… only to be cut down from behind as a blade sliced in a wide arc, cutting into both of their backs.
Recovering, Thorin recognized Dis wielding her blade, slowing after the spin she had launched herself into. The orc that had stabbed Thorin raised his sword to strike again, only to have his blow parried by the exiled king. Gritting his teeth, Thorin shoved against the taller beings' sword, blood flowing freely from his bicep. With a roar, he toppled the orc over then didn't hesitate in delivering the killing blow.
A sword blade stuck into the orc's heart for good measure, and Thorin met Dis' gaze. Her regal features were haloed by the hair that had come loose from her braids, her face stained with soot and orc blood. Thorin hastily scanned her, making sure his little sister wasn't injured anywhere before he straightened.
"You need to bind that," Dis said, yanking her sword out of the corpse and nodding to Thorin's arm.
Thorin merely glanced at his injury then returned his attention to his nephews, who had only managed to make it halfway up the stairs despite their best efforts.
"Fili," he gasped, "Kili."
Dis' eyes widened before she spun about to face her sons, a cry of joy mingled with anguish wrenching from her throat as she took in their battered bodies.
Fili's face went blank with shock as he realized his mother was standing on the stairway before him. "Mum…"
"Oh, Fili!" She dashed towards the stairs, running to her sons, only to be knocked to the wayside by Dakog.
Um… please share your thoughts? ;)