Disclaimer: The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings and all characters therein are the property of the Tolkien Estate and Wingnut Films. This story is for entertainment only and the author is in no way profiting from it, nor exercising any claims to The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings.

36. Memories

Several hours before, with Kili…

Kíli did not know how much time passed as he lay in a drug and fever-induced haze; all he knew was that he was no longer in that cavern. Hands were on him frequently, but they were gentle, turning him this way and that, rubbing things into his skin or simply caressing his hair or face. There was water, too, all around him, cooling and soothing as it bore away the heat that would not relent. He was never alone, that much he knew and was grateful for. Some part of his exhausted mind must have still been connected with the stone, as he felt the footsteps as tiny, ticklish brushes against his bare skin and heard the vibrations of the voices, though he could rarely make out words.

He was safe and the pain was being kept at a low ebb, and for a long while, it was enough. Eventually, however, the voices and his own curiosity could no longer be satisfied with being languidly manipulated and cared for, driving him back toward the reality around him. That meant pain, and he steeled himself for the pervasive ache throughout his body, biting back a cry as hands fiddled with his injured shoulder.

"...nutmeg, among others. Like many herbs, it can be dangerous in high doses, causing muscle aches, heart palpations, even fits."

"Isn't there something you can do for the pain? I hate it when he cries out like that."

Kíli could not identify the first voice, but Fíli sounded desperate, pushed to the edge. No matter how much he wished to, the younger prince could not surface enough to make his body move, reach out and reassure his brother. It was just too hot, too much effort…

It's this fever that is the greater threat, Fíli. It is all we can do to keep him from going into convulsions again. We did not have him out of the bath more than an hour last time."

"Oh, Kíli… Why must you always be difficult, little brother? Do us all a favor and fight this fever, would you?"

Fever. Yes, he was tired of that, muddling his mind and toying with his senses. But he was too weary to fight right now. Sleep was better than thinking of such things... even with the water all around him, making him wish his body were cooperative, to pull away and ensure that his face did not go under. Water had frequently haunted his nightmares since he was a young child, waking him thrashing and gasping even before he had cause for such horrors to revisit him.

Dwarrow as a race had never been all that comfortable around water, as their bones were too dense to float well, though most were at least taught to swim, unlike hobbits. Kíli had been given lessons as soon as he was old enough to understand how to move his arms and legs correctly, but this inability to move, to control his surroundings... It was panic inducing. He could not give in to the feelings, he knew that. His uncle had taught him about such emotions, in his usual, blunt, Thorin Oakenshield way...

Ered Luin, Third Age 2873

The nine year old dwarfling clung hard to his uncle's neck, trying to remember not to pull on the thick black hair, but he was afraid. He sniffed, a slightly grubby little hand coming up to wipe away tears before his uncle noticed. The dwarf king-in-exile would never give in to such weakness, so neither should he! Kili and Fili had to be big lads now, aiding their Mama, that's what everyone said!

Had it really already been a fortnight since the awful wail of the emergency horn at the mine had woken him from an afternoon nap? Any dwarf who lived long in the ruins of Belegost knew what that haunting sound meant, and dreaded it, even infants adding their own cries of distress to the mournful wail as those able to raced to discover what had occurred. Every other time, either Uncle Vili or Father had strode in the door soon after, covered in dust, to assure them all that they were both fine, then disappeared back to aid the clean-up and support those whose loved ones had not been so fortunate.

There had been no smile and threat of a dirty hug to make dwarflings giggle this time, however. Instead, it was Cousin Gloin who had appeared at the door, a few soft words leading Mama to bold out the door without a word to her anxious sons while Mister Balin came to sit with them. It was their kindly old cousin who broke the news as gently as he could to the scared little brothers, explaining that a fault in the rock had given way, crushing Father and Uncle Vili. Father had died instantly, and they did not yet know if Uncle would live. They had to cut off his arm just below his shoulder, a fact that haunted Kili's dreams.

That day would always mark the moment his life turned upside down for Kili. In the days afterward, it seemed that nothing he did was right, no matter how well meaning. His attempt to make breakfast so that Mama did not have to ended with egg in his hair, honey sticking his fingers together, and flour liberally covering every surface of the kitchen, including the glum dwarfling.

Singing to cheer Mama up made Uncle Thorin yell to 'stop that caterwauling!' Whatever that meant.

An attempt to play quietly by the fire as he had been told resulted in accidently knocking over and burning Fili's boots. He did not understand why everyone was so mad about that one, it wasn't like Fili had been in them! And to add to his misery, his tummy felt sick every time he tried to eat, while not eating earned him a scolding from Thorin and worry from Mama!

Finally, Uncle Thorin had brought Fíli and Kíli on a walk in the woods, giving Mama a break from two young children with more energy than understanding much of the time. He said she needed to rest and take care of herself, not just them, so Uncle had been making a point of coming over almost every day.

There had even been talk of him moving into their little home, a notion that had excited both Fíli and Kíli. It had been nice, to have such attention from the uncle who had been so stand-offish early on, even though Kíli knew it was only because of father. He winced as the memory of that horrible day surfaced much too quickly in his mind. That had been the worst day of the little dwarf's life, but this had the potential to become the second worst.

First, Uncle had ordered Fíli to stay on the shore of the pond while he hoisted Kíli onto his shoulders, then he had proceeded into the water far past where the tiny brunette was allowed to go. Kíli was torn between the thrill of the forbidden and anxiousness at the idea of all that water beneath him, far over his little head. Were they not far enough already? The water was almost at Thorin's shoulders, splashing onto Kili's bare feet and making him shiver despite the heat of midday. Finally, as water came up to his knees, soaking his uncle's long hair, the dwarfling ventured an objection.

"Uncle, Mama said that I shouldn't-"

Thorin snorted, though he did not sound too grumpy.

"I know what your mother has said, Kíli, but you will be ten years old soon, and start your training. It is time for you to begin to understand as an adult would."

That sounded rather... scary, especially with his older brother so far away.

"Understand what?"

Kíli asked warily, casting a glance over his shoulder to where he could see his blonde brother pacing on the shore. The last time this large, intimidating dwarf had said such a thing, it was to take Fili away to learn with Mister Balin and Mister Dwalin every day, far from Kili, who had never been separated for so long from his beloved older brother.

"This." Uncle Thorin's large hands grabbed him about the waist, lifting up only to stop as Kíli refused to release his hold. "Let go of my neck, child!"

The barked order was enough to make him open his hands, but a moment later, he wished fervently that he had ignored Thorin. The adult dwarf swept him up into the air and let go, sending the dwarfling in an arch toward the water. Kíli shrieked as his sturdy little body hit the surface and went under, eyes stinging and mouth gaping open to accept the water, arms and legs flailing in every direction. He had been taught to hold his breath, but the shock of the sudden ducking had made all rational thoughts flee from his mind, panic seizing hold.

Cold, dark, alone, no air, no help, no...

As quickly as he had been underwater, he was in the air again, arms holding him and a voice urging that he cough out the liquid choking him. Some part of the dwarfling was aware that he was being carried, but he was coughing and crying too hard to pay attention to where or even by who. Then he was set down on a rock and immediately curled up, arms hugging his knees tight to his chest as he finally tried to stop coughing. Hands came around him, and he began to pull away, then relaxed as his body recognized the familiar feel of his older brother hovering close.

"-could have killed him!"

Was Fíli actually yelling at Uncle Thorin? Wiping tears and pond water from his eyes, Kíli perked up, head swiveling to stare first at his brother and then at his uncle as what had just happened finally sunk in.

"You threw me in the water!"

There was a thread of fear there as he stared at the adult dwarf he had believed could always be trusted with the first true hints of doubt. Why would his uncle do such a thing?

"I did." Thorin calmly acknowledged, a raised eyebrow making Fíli gulp and back down a little. "Now, do you remember how you felt as the water closed over you, Kíli?"

He would not soon be forgetting such a thing! The dwarfling gave a sharp nod, shuddering again as fresh tears sprung to his eyes and he jut out his jaw, glaring at his elder. He refused to allow this stern dwarf to see him shaking with fear! For some reason, that only made Thorin chuckle, ruffling his wet hair.

"I do not blame you for being angry, little one, I was furious when my father did it to me. But I want you to hold that feeling in your mind, remember it always. That was panic, and it is our worst enemy in any situation, even deadlier than a foe's weapon. You must learn to recognize and control panic before you can do anything else."

Kíli strained against the weakness and injury holding his body captive, head thrashing at the memory.

"How is he?"

That voice… Timid, shy, yet caring. A friend sorely missed.

"The same. How are you, Ori? I'm sorry about Dori. I wish he would have lived long enough to know you were safe."

"That's all right, Fíli. Nori told me he was content, needed, which is all Dori really wanted. I- I hope you don't mind me coming in here… I'm not used to so many people."

"Hide in here whenever you feel the need. Kíli and I are glad of the company."

"There's about to be more of it, I'm afraid. Lady Dis and Vili just arrived on an eagle!"

There was astonished wonder in the scribe's voice, but the rest of the conversation was lost to the ill dwarf as his mind wandered in time. Eagles… Yes, he had ridden on one once, but the circumstances had not exactly been enjoyable. Uncle injured, Azog alive, being chased up trees by wargs. He thrashed as the dream drew him in, but water abruptly splashing over his face jolted his mind to another memory, a month prior to their unplanned playtime with the overgrown puppies…

Third Age, 2940, a fortnight east of Bree along the banks of the Bruinen

Kíli swore as the wet leather of Bongo's lead slipped through his gloved hand, allowing the pony, and his load of precious supplies, to bolt into the river. Overhead, another bolt of lightning sizzled through the air to strike a tree on one of the nearby hillsides, shaking the ground, but the archer did not allow himself to hesitate. He flung himself after the pony, arching his body to cut through the rain swollen waters in a dive, then his powerful shoulders went to work, pulling him toward the frantic animal.

No doubt his brother and his uncle would have unkind words for him should he make it back to land, but Kíli was so focused on the threat of losing those supplies that he did not care. He would do anything to make up for the embarrassment of being rebuked by his uncle three nights ago; anything to prove that he, the youngest of them, was worthy of being here. And if that made him a bit reckless... Well, there were worse things to be called.

The company had taken shelter from a sudden afternoon thunderstorm under a rocky overhang, glad of the respite from the humid weather. Strange, that even with the afternoon heat finally broken by the storm, Kíli had still felt so hot that he wanted to strip to the skin, as he used to as a young child in Ered Luin. Before he had been able to shrug out of more than his sopping wet coat, however, one of the ponies that Ori and Nori were supposed to have hobbled reared up in fright, dumping a frantic Ori on his butt in the mud.

Kíli had tried to grab for the lead, but the pony had been too strong, so here he was, gasping as the current slapped more water into his nose and mouth, momentarily choking him. Another stroke and his free hand connected with shaggy hide and moving muscles, blindly searching for the bridle as the river tried again to pull him under. The churning produced by Bongo's hooves spun him around as something clipped him on the upper arm, and suddenly, Kíli had no idea which way was up.

Air! He needed air!

He could not panic, he was better trained than that! Even as his lungs began to burn, he fought to make sense of his surroundings, use his head as opposed to his fright. He straightened his legs, a thrill of triumph going through him as they were stopped abruptly by something hard. Kíli pushed off, body surging up into the open air, which he gulped gratefully as one hand tangled in Bongo's mane. He grabbed tight to the bridle, fighting the current as he yanked the pony toward a flickering light. Another crack of lightning exploding a tree on the far bank, however, was too much, and Bongo began thrashing wildly, throwing Kíli back into the deeper water near the center of the river.

"-li! Left! To your left! Kíli!"

He could barely make out the shouts over the ringing in his ears and the roar of the water around him as he surfaced again. This time there was no solid rock under his feet and his arms felt like leaden weights as he twisted around, trying to gain his bearings.

"Look out!"

His brother's voice sounded closer than the previous shouts, but before he could decide why that was, something slammed into him and he lost himself to the blackness, only one thought repeating over and over in his mind.

"Sorry, uncle, I failed, I failed!"

The sound of his own voice, hoarse and almost unrecognizable though it was, jolted him from the last shreds of the memory. Fíli had pulled him out, but not before almost drowning himself, and they had lost all the supplies anyway. Thorin had yelled at him for almost a solid half hour before relenting enough to say that they would have sorely missed that pony in the days to come.

Afterward, however, he placed Fíli and Kíli on pony duty instead of having them scout ahead and hunt as he normally did, claiming that he did not trust others with the duty now. It was boring, and the young prince resented the waste of his abilities, especially at mealtime, when the stew was thin and lacking much meat. Kíli had known it was punishment, even if Thorin never said so.

Then he had failed even at that, becoming distracted by the odd lack of animal tracks around their campsite and allowing a troll of stroll in and carry off four ponies. To cap it off, he had tricked the hobbit into going in alone, then failed to back him up right away when he was caught, freezing in fear. Not his finest showing, that was for certain. Why did he always fail? Even now, fourteen years later!

Captive, alone, sheered of the last shred of dignity, he had panicked and he knew it. Hands, wiping a cloth over his face, soothing, the murmur of a much loved and missed voice...

"Shhh... it's alright, love. You're safe, Kili, just rest."

Rest. Yes. That sounded right. Away from the nightmares and the pain, cradled by that voice, as he had been since birth…