Bilbo shivered in the cool night air, surreptitiously moving closer to Dwalin in hopes that the large dwarf would block the wind if nothing else. Dwalin looked up at the sound of him sliding across the stone, but did nothing to deter him. On the contrary, the warrior scooted closer to the hobbit with a small smile. It was then that Bilbo noticed that all the dwarves that he was with where huddled together with their backs to the wind. All except Fíli.

Bilbo's heart broke for the young dwarf. Even after everything they'd been through in the past few days, there had still been a spark of life in his eyes. Now it was gone. As frightening as the random mood swings had been, this was worse. Fíli hadn't said a word to any of them since he told Bilbo to be quiet. In fact, he hadn't moved at all. It was like the Fíli that sat on the cliff wasn't Fíli but rather a shell of him. It wasn't right.

"Sh—" Bilbo stopped when his teeth chattered together before trying again. "It's c-cold," he said. "Sh-shouldn't one of us try to get him to come over here. It has to be warmer than the edge." Dwalin shook his head sadly, more sadness in his dark eyes than Bilbo would have once thought him capable of.

"Leave him be, laddie," Dwalin said sadly. "Let him mourn Thorin in his own way. Give him the time he needs. I . . . I've already seen what being forced to move on too soon does to a dwarf. Let . . . let him mourn."

"There's nothing to mourn!" Bilbo snapped, his frustration with the situation making his tone harsh. Why would these dwarves never listen?!

"That's cruel, hobbit," Dwalin said, his voice breathless with his shock over the callousness the creature was able to show. "Thorin may have done wrong by that lad, but Fíli still has the right to mourn his passing. Whatever he did, Thorin was still his kin."

"I know that!" Bilbo scoffed. "And Fíli loves him, even if they're in a spat at the moment. That's not what I meant." Dwalin and Glóin snorted that Bilbo thought this was nothing more than a spat, but they forgave him. After all he had no way of knowing the truth.

"Then what do you mean, Burglar?" Glóin asked, wanting to know before Bilbo talked himself into a hole he couldn't dig out of.

"Thorin's not dead," Bilbo said as if they were missing the obvious. "Or at least he wasn't when the eagles picked us up."

"But Fíli said—"

"I know what Fíli said," Bilbo said exasperatedly. "But Fíli wasn't there, not at the end. He and Kíli had been separated from us after . . ." Bilbo trailed off, unsure if he could or should tell them what he overheard between Thorin and Fíli.

"Well, that doesn't matter," he continued finally concluding that he should just keep his mouth shut. "All that matters is that they were separated by the smoke. And, trust me, Thorin was issuing commands up until the eagle picked him up. He was very much alive then."

"So there's a chance he's not dead?" Dwalin asked. Even if he was angry with Thorin for what he had done, some of his anger had faded a bit as he realized that at least some of it was misdirected. He wasn't only angry at Thorin, not really. He wasn't kidding when he had told Bilbo that the inability to mourn could be a terrible thing. He'd seen what it had done to Thorin. After the battle . . . . Thorin had not had the time he needed.

Even though it had been another almost forty years until he'd officially become their king, he'd been ruling long before that. At the loss of his father and son Thrain had . . . he'd lost himself to grief and become obsessed with Erebor. While Thrain planned excursions, despite the advice of others, it had fallen to Thorin to see to the day-to-day needs of a homeless people. Though he'd cut his beard, Thorin gave no other sign that he was mourning.

When Thrain retreated into himself after the battle, Thorin remained strong for the others and poured himself into endless planning. Dwalin still remembered when he had asked Thorin about it and attempted to express worry over his cousin's health.

ooOO88OOoo

"Thorin," he'd said as he sat in his cousin's tent one night while Thorin poured over maps and ledgers. "You need to stop. Take a moment for yourself. How long has it been since you slept?" His cousin blinked owlishly at him, his usually bright eyes clouded with fatigue and dark circles so deep under them that Dwalin was impressed Thorin was conscious at all.

"I . . .I think I slept yesterday," Thorin replied, hesitantly. "Dís was here."

"Thorin, that was two days ago," Dwalin said, standing and taking his cousin by the upper arms. "Come, to bed with you."

"No," Thorin replied shrugging out from under Dwalin's hands and focusing once more on his papers. "I . . . I need to finish this."

"It can wait until tomorrow," Dwalin said. "What you need to do is sleep."

"N-no," Thorin said, his eyes wild as he clutched at Dwalin's shirt with fingers that trembled. "I-it can-can't wait. You don't . . . you don't understand. I have to do this. If . . . if father and grandfather had focused on this instead of . . .then maybe . . ."

"Thorin, don't go there," Dwalin cautioned. "Nothing good will come of it. What happened happened. There's nothing you can do about it."

"But, Dwalin, don't you see?!" Thorin asked, his voice frantic. "If we had a home, none of this would have happened. I have to find us one. This can never happen again. I can't . . . I won't . . ." Thorin looked as if he was on the verge of tears before he forced them down and cleared his throat.

"Now, leave me," he said. "I will finish this."

"Thorin—"

"I said leave," Thorin snarled.

ooOO88OOoo

Dwalin had left, only to come back with Dís, who was able to force her brother to get some rest. He hadn't stayed in the tent after Dís came, but cloth does little to block sounds. Even from his own tent he had heard the terrors that assaulted Thorin that night. Heard his friend scream and beg in his sleep until the lamp was lit and Thorin once more threw himself into work less than an hour after he laid down to rest.

Dwalin wasn't sure how long that pattern had continued, but he knew that seeing Thorin in a well rested state became a rare sight indeed. Everyone knew but no one ever spoke of it. It wasn't their place. Even when the slips started, no one said anything. If you were talking to Thorin and his face suddenly went blank and his eyes stared at nothing . . . well, you went to find Dís. No one else could reach him and if anyone but her touched him . . . Dwalin idly rubbed at the scar on his forearm that he had gained in just such an attempt. But Dís . . . she could always reach him. She always seemed to know just what to do to make him normal again. And once she did, they never spoke of what had happened.

Eventually those too had faded. And if Thorin was grimmer than he'd been before or there was a sadness in his eyes that never seemed to leave, well, he had every right. After all, fate had been cruel to him.

Everything seemed as if it were back to normal. True, Thorin had lost his lighthearted nature, but he was fine. He had seemed fine. And then Fíli was born. Fíli with his bright blue eyes and blonde hair. He had seen the pain in Thorin's eyes intensify as the boy grew. He'd watched as the slips became more frequent than they'd been in years. But still he'd said nothing. He knew that Thorin wouldn't appreciate having his weaknesses noticed by another. Out of respect for his friend and king he'd held his tongue. Until one day when Fíli was in his early twenties.

The lad had only just begun training and was doing remarkably well. He was still experimenting with weapons to try to find what fit him best. That day had been axes and bows. They were put together because the second was such an uncommon weapon. But, uncommon or not, Fíli had been good with them. Unlike most dwarflings, he had managed to not only hit the target about half the time, but he also avoided hitting his arm with the string. That was something Dwalin still had difficulty with.

Fíli had been so excited. For one of the first times that Dwlain could remember, there was pride in his eyes as he had looked at what he had done. Fíli always had been such a self-conscious thing . . . he supposed now that it came from Thorin's treatment but at the time he'd just figured the lad was a bit neurotic. It happened occasionally.

"Did you see, Uncle?" Fíli chirped, practically bouncing in place. "Did you see? I hit the target!" Thorin had surveyed the target with the same searching gaze he used to inspect a newly forged blade and Dwalin had known before he spoke that what would follow would not be kind.

"Barely," Thorin replied, pulling one of the arrows from the target where it barely clung to the edge. "There is also no pattern to your shots. They are all over the board." He gestured at the wild spackle of arrows to prove his point. "Without a cluster there is no way to improve your aim."Fíli seemed to deflate a bit more with every word out of his uncle's mouth, until by the end his throat was working convulsively and it was clear to Dwalin that the lad was trying not to cry.

"It's not bad for a first try, Thorin," Dwalin said, placing a hand on Fíli's shoulder. "The lad did hit the target. That's better than most." Thorin hummed in response, looking unimpressed.

"It's alright," Fíli whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I didn't like the bow anyway," he continued, handing it to Dwalin. "I think I'd like to try swords tomorrow, can we?"

"Of course, laddie," Dwalin said. "and we can always come back and give the bow a bit more practice. If you'd like."

"No," Fíli had said, shaking his head. "Uncle's right. I'll never be good enough at it. May I go?" Dwalin nodded and watched as Fíli walked towards the changing room on the grounds.

"What was that?!" Dwalin snapped rounding on Thorin the moment Fíli was out of earshot.

"I beg your pardon?" Thorin asked coldly.

"What was that?" Dwalin repeated. "He did amazingly for a first time."

"This is not amazing, Dwalin," Thorin corrected. "Were this an enemy, he'd have been slain. Yes, he hit the target, but none of these would have been a kill."

"It was his first time with a bow," Dwalin countered. "And it's not as if I'd put him up against an enemy now. He's still a child. In fact, that argument could be made for any weapon he or any of the others lift and you know it." He paused to look around at the dwarflings that were training, and some of the older untried warriors besides. "Every single one of them out there . . . If you or I were to come at them with intent" he paused to scoff. "Most of them would wet themselves and then, if we wished it, they would die. That's the point of training: he gets better."

"I know that," Thorin snarled. "And let's say that he specializes in archery. What happens when he's in a battle and his arrows are spent, the enemy is all around him. What will he do then, Dwalin?"

"Go to his secondary weapon," Dwalin said, knowing that Thorin knew the answer and wondering why they were going over this.

"His secondary weapon," Thorin repeated his words going more frantic as he continued. "One that he hasn't trained with nearly as much. In that situation, he won't have the skill to defend himself against multiple attackers. We both know that secondary weapons are never as good as primary. He'll die, Dwalin." Dwalin closed his eyes as he realized that this wasn't about Fíli. Not truly. When he opened them again, he could see the fear behind Thorin's icy stare. The fear of the past.

"That's not why Frerin died, Thorin," Dwalin whispered reaching for his cousin's shoulder.

"You can't know that!" Thorin snapped batting his hand away.

"No," he agreed." But I do know this; Fíli is not Frerin."

"I know that!" the king snarled, his expression turning nearly feral.

"Do you?" Dwalin asked, undeterred by Thorin's rage. He'd seen it before. Thorin's mouth worked for a moment before he slammed the arrow back into the target and turned away. When he next spoke, his voice was sad, defeated and distant.

"Bring the lad home, will you?" he asked. "I . . . there is . . . something . . ."

"I'll see him home," Dwalin promised feeling worry for Thorin creep into his mind. He did not like that tone at all. "Do you want me to—"

"Just see to Fíli," Thorin said. "And tomorrow, let him try double swords. He's good with both of his hands."

ooOO88OOoo

Dwalin had done what he'd been told. That night, he'd taken Fíli home and stayed there at Dís' invitation, telling her how well her son had done at training that day. When Thorin never came home, Dís asked him to stay with the lads while she went to look for her brother. Dwalin agreed. They were sleeping, it wasn't as if they could cause too much mischief. He wished he hadn't. When Dís brought her brother home . . . the blank sadness on Thorin's face about ripped his heart out. He didn't even seem to know where he was as Dís guided him to his room. When she came back, she ushered him out the door with a sad smile, her thanks for watching the lads and a promise that Thorin would be fine before shutting the door.

She'd been right, the next time he saw his cousin Thorin was fine. He looked drained and seemed to have less energy than normal, but he was fine. Even so, Dwalin never brought up Fíli and Frerin in the same sentence again. He didn't want to be responsible for causing Thorin any more pain. Instead, he shifted his attention to attempting to offer Fíli the praise that Thorin clearly didn't give. But no matter what he said, the boy didn't seem to believe him.

And then Kíli had come along and he'd been expecting more of the same but that wasn't what he saw. Kíli had confidence and brazenness that Fíli lacked and Thorin was more than happy to dote praise on the younger of the two even for lesser achievements. Kíli had been allowed freedoms that Fíli wasn't but at the same time, Fíli had seemed better served. He had a drive that Kíli couldn't compare to. An urge to better himself even when he was already doing his best and was miles ahead of the others. He'd thought that maybe Thorin knew what he was doing after all.

Dwalin sighed as he looked at Fíli now, the lost, broken thing he'd become. If he'd only had known where that drive actually came from . . . he wasn't sure what he would have done but it damn well would have been something more than nothing. But he knew that there was no way he could go back and change it now. All he could do was insure that Fíli was given the time he needed even if Thorin was dead. That and honesty. He'd seen the damage remaining silent could do. Promise to Kíli or no, he would tell Fíli the truth. The lad deserved no less.

ooOO88OOoo

Fíli was still sitting on the ledge when he heard a familiar voice call out and turned to see Nori standing there leaning against the ledge with a smile.

"So those flighty birds did drop the rest of you together too," he said tiredly. "Gandalf said they had, but that wizard's more than a bit batty in his own right so I wasn't sure."

"Too?" Bilbo asked. "You mean the rest of the company's with you?"

"Aye," Nori agreed. "and worried you lot had been eaten."

"We thought you'd been eaten," Glóin retorted.

"Well, nobody's been eaten and everyone was alive when I left," Nori replied. "Now can we go back? I'd kill for a bit of shut-eye."

"So, Balin—"

"He's fine," Nori said, sitting down as he realized that they weren't going to move until he answered their questions. "Got a cut on his arm but he's fine. Óin's fine too," he said before the red-headed dwarf could ask. "As are Bifur and Bofur. Now can we go?"

"And Kíli?" Fíli asked, his voice rough from the smoke and disuse.

"Kíli's fine," Nori replied. "He's sitting with Thorin. Or was when I left." Nori wondered at the little bit of color that was in Fíli's face fading and stepped forward to attempt to catch the lad should he decide to pass out. He was dangerously close to the edge.

"So . . . the eagles picked up his body?" Fíli asked, closing his eyes against the mental image of the damage his uncle may have done to himself to end his life. Had he slit his own throat or run himself through? Would they have covered the wounds with cloth as they did his father's or would they be left open so that Thorin's disgrace in killing himself would be known? If they had the body . . . all his attempts to hide the truth had been for naught. They would know by who's hand those wounds had been inflicted. All they'd need to do was look.

"What body?" Nori asked, not understanding Fíli sudden sadness and the dread in his eyes. "Thorin's alive, lad."

"He's . . . he's alive?" Fíli breathed, the hint of disbelieving laughter in his tone. "But—" He turned to look at Bilbo who shrugged.

"I tried to tell you," the hobbit said. "But you didn't want to hear it. Thorin didn't die. The eagles grabbed him."

"But . . . I heard him cry out and the way it stopped . . ." Fíli trailed off, unable to finish his dark thought.

"The eagles had to have lifted him by the arms, laddie," Dwalin said placing a gentle hand on the heir's shoulder. "That can't have been painless. I'd be impressed if his shoulders held him. That's why it cut out. He most likely lost consciousness. Be glad of it."

"They didn't," Nori said. "We had to put them back in. He wasn't awake for it." he added when he saw the horror in Fíli's eyes. "He was still unconscious. He didn't feel it." Fíli nodded and closed his eyes once more before opening them, a determination in them that none of them had seen since the caves.

"Take me to them," he ordered. "I'd like to see for myself that they are fine." Nori said nothing, but that was an order he was more than happy to follow since it meant that he'd be getting some sleep sometime soon.

Fíli followed the other dwarf, his heart both lighter and more filled with dread than it had been moments before. Everyone was alive. Thorin, Kíli . . . they were both alive. They hadn't died. There was still time to make things right. But at the same time was the fear of what would happen when Kíli asked about what happened on the other cliff. He couldn't lie to his brother, not about that. But he knew—he knew—that Kíli would never understand. Kíli, who'd never had to make that kind of decision before. No, when Kíli asked and he told him what he and Thorin had agreed to . . . Kíli would hate him. And it would be no less than he deserved for being willing to kill his brother.

ooOO88OOoo

So . . . that first bit was only supposed to be a lead in but . . . well, Dwalin apparently wanted a say so *shrugs* he got it. Next time we'll be back with a reunited company and see more of what's going on with Kili and Thorin. I swear, this time it wasn't just to be sadistic :)

And before I get to review responses let me just say this: you all are amazing! It always shocks me just how many of you take the time to read and review this story. I just wanted to let you know how much it means to me. Also thank you to everyone that has added this story to their follows or favorites.

Anybody: Ha! you're the second person to tell me that :) Which is why this time I updated in a different order. Can't become predictable after all ;) And thank you! I'm glad that you liked it. *laughs* I didn't figure they could. I didn't keep mine intact while writing it. As to who it was, as they outed themselves in the reviews I don't feel bad telling you that it was the wonderful Nimrodel Lorellin :) And I'm glad that it was amazing. I was worried it was too dark. And Fili and Thorin have much more in common than either of them is willing to admit. And yep, Thorin is broken and he may not be fixable, not really. And it was logical? really? I was worried that it was too far out there. And yep, that was all in Thorin's head, and IS in his head. That wasn't just the fever talking. And I don't think you're alone in underestimating just how upset Thorin is by all of this, I think we all did. And that's easy to do, the heirs are more sympathetic than Thorin since it's easier to paint him as the villian than to realize that his behavior comes from issues of his own. And that does fit well! As to why you love it, that I can't tell you either. I'm STILL surprised that people read this angstball, let alone love it :) And Fíli *sighs* you've got his thoughts to a tee. I didn't know you were a Spanish speaker :) I'm not very good at writing it, but I can read and speak it :) As to the phrase, the closest we have is "hit rock bottom" which means you're as far down as you can go and things can't get worse. It tends to be the lowest point and from there growth is the only option . .. that or destruction. And I think Balin is just in shock that Kili is their king. He doesn't have a whole lot of faith in the youngest heir. And that is kinda fun to say :) And it's not that it hasn't happened, it's just that, for the moment, it's less important than what's going on. And that's exactly what he's thinking :) And it surprises me, but I truly do love Kíli's arc as well. And yep, Bilbo gave it a go :) Thank you so much for your detailed review, dear!

sis77: I doubt you made it this far but if you did I'd love to know; awful as in subject matter or writing? If it's the writing I would truly love to know what I can do to improve (no, this is not sarcasm, I mean it). Thank you for taking the time to write a review, especially as you hated it.

mny: Thank you so much! I'm glad that you are enjoying it. And one of the best, really? I am truly flattered. Thank you again for your kind words :) and see, new chapter.

sis77graceann: there is more on the way :)

Well, that's all for now folks. Thank you again for taking the time to read this and especially to those of you that review. The response to this story never ceases to amaze me. Thank you all so very much!

Stickdonkeys