Note: Trigger warning for illness
Days passed and the world seemed to melt away for Thorin and Kili. Bilbo had offered up one of his spare rooms to Fili, so that he would be more comfortable, but his condition continued to deteriorate. The little hobbit helped in whatever way he could, clearly sympathetic to the plight of the three dwarves that had suddenly appeared in his home.
Kili had been moved to a second room, against his will of course, so that he could recover his own strength. Thorin had been forced to put sleeping draught into his drinks in order to get him to lay down, as distraught as he was over his brother's condition. Thorin insisted on neglecting his own health until Azalea threatened to sedate him. So he and Kili took turns watching over Fili.
Over the next few days, Kili and Thorin had both improved. The hobbit's home was kept cool during the heat of the day and the pantry was well stocked. At first, neither of them were able to keep down much more than porridge, but slowly, they were able to take in more sustenance.
But their spirits remained in constant turmoil. Fili did not improve. He suffered as his fever was constant and he could keep very little down. Aches and pains plagued him and that sickly yellowish tint continued on. Azalea and Asphodel had been over constantly, administering herbal remedies and trying to keep the poor dwarf alive. It just didn't seem like enough and even Thorin was beginning to realize the inevitable.
On the fifth night, Thorin could do nothing as he watched yet another seizure wrack through his eldest nephew's body. Fili shook and seized and his fever rose higher and higher. Thorin had never felt so helpless in all of his life. The stoic king was at the end of his rope. He was exhausted and he knew Fili was exhausted as well. He just wanted it to be over for him.
After the seizure passed, he had knelt down beside his nephew's now still body and still felt the fever radiating off of him. At this moment, Thorin could no longer hold back his tears. Fili was now too weak to take more than very shallow breaths and he became so ghostly pale, Thorin was sure he was on his final breaths.
Thorin had held the limp hand in his and wept. He had known loss and grief before. He had lost his kingdom and his treasure. His grandfather and his father. His own brother. And so many dear friends. And in the past few weeks, he had lost his home in exile and his beloved sister. His closest friends had parted from him in search of a new life. His people were scattered and homeless once again. The peace and security that he had worked so hard to achieve in the Blue Mountains had been shattered.
All of that loss was hard to bear. But he carried all that loss as best as he could. He could suffer through what he had to in order to care for his people. But losing his nephews wasn't something he could have been prepared for. They had been the only thing that kept him going after losing Erebor and now, after this latest orc attack, they were all he had left in this life. The despair he felt as he watched Fili's life drain away was simply too much for the old dwarf king to handle. So, he wept. He wept until he couldn't anymore.
As dawn broke the following morning, Thorin lifted his weary head and gazed sadly at the seemingly lifeless form before him. He could see no movement whatsoever. He couldn't even see his nephew's chest rise. He swallowed hard and prepared himself as he reached forward to put a hand on his forehead. It was cool.
"Oh no…" he breathed as he moved forward and put his ear to Fili's chest. He knew this was going to happen, he expected it at this point. But he still felt his breath hitch in his throat and felt the cold dread of fear as he tried to make out any signs of life.
There! Thorin felt a small smile spread across his face as he felt Fili inhale a breath and then slowly let it out. And he heard the faint thump of his nephew's beating heart. He was alive.
"Fili…" he breathed with relief and hope as he cupped his nephew's face with both of his hands, and watched as Fili's deep blue eyes fluttered open and gazed up at him.
"Uncle…" Fili murmured slowly. He coughed, but his voice sounded stronger. Noticeable warmth flowed through his skin, but the fever seemed to be slowly etching away.
"Thank Mahal," Thorin said, "I thought we had lost you."
"I'm tired," Fili breathed, gazing pitifully at his uncle, "And it hurts."
"I know," Thorin said as Fili gazed around at his surroundings. The door creaked loudly as it opened.
"Fili!" Thorin turned just as Kili hurried to the other side of the bed, climbing up to get a better look at his brother.
"Where are we?" Fili asked as Thorin and Kili adjusted the pillows so that he could sit up slightly, "How did we get here? Where is Mum?"
Thorin arched his brow in concern as Kili looked to him with confusion.
"Don't you remember?" Kili asked. Fili looked at him, puzzled and as he shifted in bed a bit, he let out a bit of a cry as his hand went to his bandaged abdomen.
"Oww!" he exclaimed, "What happened?"
"Uh, is he alright?" Thorin glanced toward the door to see Bilbo peering at them from the doorway.
"Yes…" Thorin said hesitantly, inviting the hobbit to come in. Bilbo struggled to carry in three bowls of porridge and quickly set them on the nightstand near the bed.
"Who is that, Kili?" Fili asked, glancing at Bilbo wearily.
"Good to see you awake, Master Dwarf," Bilbo said simply, "I thought you might like some porridge. My sister will be along to check on you shortly."
"Okay…" Fili agreed slowly, glancing from Thorin to Kili for answers.
"We're in the shire, Fili, don't you remember?" Kili asked as he took a bowl of porridge, "Are you feeling well enough to try to eat? You need your strength."
Fili glanced warily at the bowl of porridge, as if unsure of its existence. He tried moving his hand and Thorin could see his muscles tense from the small effort.
"I…" Fili glanced at Thorin, "It's hard to move…" he said slowly, "I'm so tired and it hurts."
"You might have to help him eat it, Kili," Thorin said, propping Fili up more in bed. Fili gave Thorin a look of horror.
"Don't be a fool, you need to eat something," Thorin warned when Fili opened his mouth to protest as Kili lifted the spoon to his lips.
Fili's cheeks flushed red with embarrassment but he allowed Kili to feed him. Thorin watched the two of them interact for a while. This was the first major improvement to Fili's condition, but Thorin knew they would have a while to go.
"Ah, he looks much better!" came a feminine voice and Thorin turned to see Azalea and Asphodel enter the room. Fili looked horrified as Kili was just helping him eat the last of his porridge.
"He had a very hard night, his fever rose," Thorin said as he stood and allowed Azalea to examine Fili, "And he seems to be having some memory problems."
Fili looked at the hobbit woman as she placed a hand on his forehead and neck.
"His fever is going down," Azalea said, smiling at Fili as he gazed up at her in confusion, "But he is still very ill. How do you feel, Young Dwarf?"
"Tired…" Fili said, "Who are you?"
"He had some seizures," Thorin told her, as Kili helped Fili lie back down.
"My name is Azalea," the hobbit woman said kindly, "You are in the home of my brother, Bilbo Baggins. And this is my daughter, Asphodel. We've been helping to take care of you when you were ill."
"Where is my Mum?" Fili asked her, before glancing at Kili and at Thorin, "Isn't she here too?"
Thorin swallowed hard as he came forward, "Don't you remember, Fili?"
"Remember what?"
"What is the last thing you remember, Brother?" Kili asked with concern.
"We were swimming in the lake," Fili responded, "And then Mum made trout and we had dinner and talked about learning crafts and then Kili and I went to bed."
Azalea glanced at Thorin, "Did those events take place?" she asked.
"Yes," Thorin responded, slowly. Fili had forgotten all of the tragedy that had befallen them. He still thought he was back in the Blue Mountains! and Thorin had to tell him all over again.
"That was over a month ago now…" Kili said, glancing up at Thorin, "How could he forget…"
"Forget what, Kili?" Fili demanded again, agitation in his voice, "Would you please tell me what happened?"
Thorin sighed. He hadn't planned on telling the hobbits what had happened to them. As soon as Fili was better he planned to thank Bilbo for his hospitality and move on. They need not know their plight. And he dreaded having to break Fili's heart again.
But Kili made that move before he could say anything, "Orcs came, Fili," he began, "They were looking for Uncle, I think. They destroyed the village…"
"All of it?" Fili looked at him as if he was making it all up, "Where's Mum, then?"
"She… she died, Fili." Kili said softly, "It was just you, me, Ori, and Gimli for a while."
"No!" Fili exclaimed, "That can't be right!"
"It is!" Kili argued, "We thought Uncle was dead too! You were our leader! We were wandering the forest until he found us. He had some survivors with him, but they were very few. And then we decided to separate from the others so we could look for a new home and because the orcs are still looking for uncle! Then you got sick, we all nearly starved to death and that is how we ended up here!"
Fili looked horrified and distressed. His breathing increased as he looked over at Thorin for confirmation, "He's telling a joke, isn't he Uncle!"
"Shh, Fili," Thorin put an arm on his shoulder, "Just rest. You need to rest."
Fili turned away and closed his eyes. Thorin glanced at the bewildered looking Hobbits.
"We should let him sleep," Azalea said softly, "Come now."
"I'm sorry…" Kili said, realizing that he'd blurted out everything. He reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from Fili's face, "I'm sorry, Brother…"
"Don't leave me, Brother," Fili said softly.
"You can stay in here with him," Thorin said when Kili glanced up at him, "Let us know if you need anything."
Thorin bent down and put his forehead against Fili's for a brief moment, grateful to feel and hear him breathing, "It's going to be alright, Nephew," he said softly, "We'll all get through this. You are going to get better and I am going to take care of you both. I promise."
Kili snuggled up against his brother and Thorin squeezed his hand reassuringly before he followed the hobbits out into Bilbo's tiny dining room.
"Was everything he said true?" Bilbo asked as he sat beside Azalea and Asphodel, "About the orcs?"
"Yes," Thorin replied carefully as he sat down across the table from them, "The orcs destroyed our village and their mother was killed in the attack."
"The orcs won't come here, will they?" Asphodel asked, worry in her voice as she glanced between Azalea and Bilbo.
"The Blue Mountains is a bit of a distance from here," Bilbo reassured her, "And orcs haven't been seen in these parts for many centuries." But he turned to Thorin, "Those orcs, why were they hunting you?"
"I'm not sure," Thorin responded, careful not to reveal his royal identity, "We haven't run into orcs since we cleared the area of them nearly a century ago. Their attack was quite sudden, I don't know who could have sent them."
"You are homeless then," Azalea said, "Are there others like you?"
"I have other kin who survived the attack," Thorin said, thinking about Balin and the others and wondering how they were faring, "But we made the decision to separate. It's just the three of us now, we are searching for a new home. We were on our way to Bree before Fili fell ill, I was hoping to find work there."
Thorin watched the hobbits closely. He had no intention of settling here in the shire, but he didn't want to be thrown out right now either. He knew he had no right to impose on them and Bilbo was well within his rights to ask him to leave. But Fili's life was still fragile and he didn't think they would make it too far if they left now.
Thorin had once been forced to humble himself to strangers. After the escape from Erebor, his people were homeless and starving, much like he and his nephews were now. They had found themselves forced to live at the mercies of other races, first living in the villages of men before settling in the Blue Mountains where their survival had still depended heavily upon trade with men.
Now, he was at the mercy of these hobbits. He watched Bilbo closely.
"Let them stay, Uncle," Asphodel suddenly pleaded, glancing at Bilbo, "Please?"
Bilbo frowned and looked at her and then back at Thorin, "It's not that I don't mind the company," He began, "But I don't want the Sackville Baggins to find out, and I don't want people to talk."
"Let the Sackville Baggins talk all they want!" Azalea exclaimed, glaring at Bilbo, "I never cared about what they thought."
"And I am a little concerned about the orcs that are hunting you," Bilbo pointed out, "We've never had an orc problem in the shire and I don't want them to follow you here. This is the shire, after all, we are a peaceful folk and it's not our concern what goes on outside our borders."
Thorin swallowed a bit. He didn't want the orcs to follow them there either. They hadn't run into any orcs since they fled the village but he would be a fool to think they weren't still hunting him. They wouldn't know to look for Dwarves in the shire, but Thorin would hate for his kind hosts to be affected by their problems.
"I'll let you stay here until your nephew has fully recovered," Bilbo said after a long while, "After that, we'll see, I suppose. Do you or your nephews have gardening skills?"
"No, we're Dwarves," Thorin responded, "I am afraid my people haven't much use for agriculture. But we are skilled craftsmen, I am a blacksmith and Fili and Kili haven't learned a craft of their own, but Fili has an interest in stone working and Kili enjoys woodworking."
"Ah, well those are all well and good," Bilbo said, "But it's high time you learned how to grow your own food, Master Dwarf. I'd be happy to teach you."
Thorin grumbled a bit at the thought of having to plow fields and pick weeds. But nodded his head in agreement.
"We are in your debt, Master Baggins," he said gratefully. He breathed a sigh of relief. For now, he and his nephews were safe.