So sorry I didn't post anything last week. Life was super busy. I apologize if this chapter seems disjointed, it seemed better in my head.

Disclaimer: I don't make any money off of these creations

Ch.4 A defendable position

Fíli recovered physically just fine. The bruises and cut faded quickly enough, but the emotional trauma lingered. Fíli was prone to jump if startled and he now slept with a knife under his pillow. He became far clingier than Thorin ever remembered him being, refusing to be left without Thorin or one of the sons of Fundin with him. He also started hoarding weapons on his person. More than once Thorin set down a knife only to have it disappear and reappear later in some sheath on Fíli's body. Once he realized what was happening, Thorin started leaving smaller, more concealable knives with thinner blades and multi-purpose sheaths around the house. Fíli didn't seem to realized his kleptomania, he felt vulnerable and having weapons about him was his way of coping. He only stopped gathering blades once Thorin commented that he was starting to look more like a hedgehog than a Dwarf.

Over the next few weeks, Thorin tried talking to Fíli about what had happened. At first the blond Dwarf would shut down at any mention of his abuse, but slowly he opened up. A full month had nearly passed before he was willing to tell his uncle was had fully happened. Even then, Thorin could tell that Fíli was keeping his emotions detached and distant. He tried to tell Fíli that keeping a stoic face wasn't necessary or healthy. Fíli would simply raise an eyebrow before fleeing the room. Looking back, Thorin could see how hypocritical that advice was coming from him.

The evening before Kíli and Dis were due back, Thorin and Fíli spend the time after dinner in the sitting room by the fire. Thorin was reading and Fíli was working on a small carving. Thorin could tell that something was bothering his nephew from the way that he kept shifting in his seat and pausing his work to stare into the fire. Finally, Fíli spoke.

"Uncle Thorin?" Fíli asked. There was a tentative tremor in his voice that had never been there before his attack.

"Hmmm?" Thorin hummed, turning the page.

"I'm I really a….a…" Fíli trailed off uncertainly, fiddling with his half finished carving.

"A what?" Thorin looked up from his book giving his nephew his full attention.

"A mongrel," Fíli softly finished. Thorin felt a flash of anger at the word and the fact that Fíli had such a notion in his head. His anger must have showed on his face because Fíli shrunk back in his seat. The older Dwarf quickly schooled his features.

"Why on earth would you think that Little Lion?"

"I don't look anything like the rest of you," Fíli pointed out hesitantly.

"You are fully Dwarf, if that is what you are referring to," Thorin chose his words careful, closing his book.

"Then why do I have blond hair?" Fíli demanded, gripping his head in frustration, wincing a little as the motion pulled on a few injuries that were still healing. Thorin grimaced at the question, he had always feared the time when Fíli would ask about this. He hesitated, thinking of the best way to answer his nephew's question. Fíli's shoulders dropped at his uncle's silence, taking Thorin's lack of response as confirmation of his fears.

"So I am illegitimate, aren't I? Víli wasn't my real father was he?"

"It's complicated," Thorin sighed and held up a hand to forestall Fíli's interruption, "Please let me explain."

The blond Dwarf bit his lip, but didn't say anything. Thorin rubbed his hands over his face as memories came flooding into his mind, some more pleasant than others.
"The long story short is no, Víli was not your biological father. You real father's name was Fîan. He was a kind and gentle Dwarf who was a gifted silversmith, capable of creating tiny, intricate masterpieces that were wonderful to behold. Much to our father's disgust, Fîan and your mother were betrothed. The day before their wedding, Smaug attacked Erebor. After the fall of Erebor, our people were scattered and scarce. Children were highly encouraged among couples, so Fîan and your mother laid together. They were married in all but public ceremony, and that formality mattered little to them. A month later, Fîan was tragically killed in a rock slide. Shortly after that, your mother discovered that she was pregnant. Despite the scarcity of children, I knew that our father would never stand to have a possible heir to the throne born out of wedlock, especially one sired by a 'Poor Artisan', as Father called Fîan," Thorin sighed and scratched his chin before continuing.

"Frerin and I convinced her to marry Víli, her childhood best friend, to keep our father from finding out and disowning you, or worse, killing you. The answer to your question is complicated. Technically, yes, you are…. illegitimate, if you would like to use that word. Your mother and father never got to have their public ceremony that certified their marriage. However, Víli was aware of the situation when he married your mother. He legally claimed you at your birth in front of the town to prevent anyone from attempting to accusing Dis of unfaithfulness and doubting your birthright. As far as the courts are concerned, you are biologically Víli's son."

Fíli sat there in silence for quiet sometime, digesting what he had heard.

"Then why haven't you claimed Kíli as your heir?"

"Because he's younger than you," Thorin snorted.

"But he's legitimate, I'm not. My birthright should be his. I shouldn't…. I mean, shouldn't he….why would you still want me?" Fíli's brow was drawn in worry and doubt. Thorin sighed. This is exactly why he had stalled as long as possible to tell his older nephew about his parentage. Fíli followed the rules to a T. For his very existence to break time honored tradition and family values would devastate his already self-deprecating nephew.

"It is your birthright Fíli because you are just as legitimate as your brother."

"But I-"

"No, buts. A child is precious, not matter their parentage. Your mother, Fîan and Víli wanted you badly enough that they moved mountains to have you and keep you. Would you really throw that away because someone questioned your hair color?" Thorin changed tactics when Fíli remained unconvinced, "What if the situation was reversed? What if Kíli had been 'illegitimate', would you question his part of the family?"

"No, I guess not," Fíli finally admitted, hands twisting restlessly in his lap. He turned his gaze from Thorin to the dying fire in the grate. They lapsed into silence once more before Fíli spoke again.

"Do I have to tell Kíli about …about…you know?" Fíli chewed on his lower lip in distress, finally broaching the subject he had really wanted to ask about. He loved Kíli dearly and was terrified that his little brother would think he was weak when he heard what had happened. He didn't want to deal with that on top of everything else.

"Not unless you want to," Thorin promised, leaning over to ruffle Fíli's hair. As a testament to his progress, Fíli didn't avoid the touch as he had just after his attack, though he did sill stiffen.

"Can I ask you one other question?" The young dwarf asked as they went to retire for the night.

"Of course."

"Did Fîan have blond hair?"

"Hardly. It was more a light reddish color than blond. His mother, however, had blonde hair, even lighter in color than yours."

Curiosity momentarily satisfied, Fíli bade his uncle good night.