Author's Note: Here, just as I promised is another chapter for you all. For being something that was meant to simply finish of the previous chapter it quite grew into something more, and I'm actually quite happy with it. It deals with things I've been wanting to have dealt with for ages but just couldn't work them. Maybe because the issues that I deal with in this chapter are ones that desire to have chapter focused solely upon them.
Happy Australia day again!

Chapter Sixty-Seven

The Worries of King(s)

Thorin had met his share of disgruntled and furious family members of injured soldiers (and the fallen, those dwarves who never returned home). It was never a pleasant experience and more than once he has had an axe or hammer swung at his face or torso, so to say that he was dreading the meeting with Billanna's family was something of understatement. Not because he feared an axe to the face (though according to Kili he might want to watch out for shovels or pruners. Kili hadn't elaborated further upon what he meant by that though he, Bofur and Ori had all looked momentarily torn between amusement and sheer terror, all muttering something about 'armed gardeners' and 'bodyguards'. Thorin felt it was best to simply leave it at that, the mental image was bad enough without Kili going into further details), but rather he dreaded the fear, the worry and the pain. He knew from his experience with Billanna and his time spent with these hobbits that anger truly wasn't in their nature, but worried, sad looks definitely was. And he could barely handle his burglar's hurt, reproachful looks, he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to deal with her four family members giving their variations of the look. He would almost rather the anger, the hate, then have those gentle, round faces looking up at him with hurt, wounded expressions. He promised to keep them safe, to keep their kinswoman and child safe and he had utterly failed on that front.

But he did not run nor did he hide (despite how much he desired to), he remained in the infirmary after Fili and Kili had taken Frodo off to get into whatever shenanigans Kili thought they could get away with under Fili's watchful eye and keeping within Frodo's still delicate health boundaries (Fili, as they were leaving the infirmary, promised to bring them both, Kili and Frodo, back in one piece, something Thorin was more than a little grateful to his oldest nephew for promising. The lad was far more mature than Thorin ever was at that age, but then again, at Fili's age he hadn't gone through the trials the lad had, nor a great battle that would be remembered well after they were all buried in stone. Fili was still a few years off from when Thorin had had to face the first real hardship in his life, his grandfather's increasing madness and the desolation of Erebor.) and the other members of the company had moved off to do they're everyday work.

He was quite alone in the infirmary (Oin was in his office), sitting by Billanna's bed by the time her family arrived, led there by Bofur and Nori, who quickly and discreetly abandon their king to his fate of hurt hobbit looks.

He braced himself on the off chance the hobbits might start yelling. He had seen, and at times been the receiver of Billanna few and far between furious screams, and those few times had not be pleasant. There was something inherently wrong with seeing someone so gentle and kind screaming justified annoyance and fury. But none of that came. The hobbits milled around uncertainly while Bungo Baggins immediately limped over to his daughter's side, laying a hand upon her forehead and looking relieved when she grumbled in her heavy slumber something about cold hands. Billanna's mutterings seemed to break the tension and all the hobbits (including Lotho who was probably only present because the younger lads dragged him along) relaxed.

"So," Thorin looked at the blonde haired lad, Saradoc, who had been quiet throughout Thorin's telling of what had happened to his cousin (Paladin had made a few little mutters while Thorin spoke but a nudge from Saradoc was quick to shut the hobbit man up), "this sort of thing. Happen around here often?"

"Saradoc!" Paladin was staring at his cousin with shocked eyes, for usually, from what time Thorin had seen of the pair, it was Paladin who was the one who blurted out these sorts of things, while Saradoc was the one who chided him not to be so rude.

Thorin met the young man's eyes, noting how the man, though his flare of impertinence had died almost as soon as the words had left his mouth, was trying to remain brave as he stood by them, refusing to apologize or take them back.

"No," Thorin replied, calmly. He found that dealing with these two, as rare as that actually was, was very much like dealing with his nephews when they were younger (or their current age, depending on the day), and so he wasn't half as bothered by what these two man said around him, no matter how idiotic or rude, unintentional or not, as one might think. "Not usually."

Saradoc chewed over that, his dark brown eyes searching his, obviously hunting for the truths and the lies in them before sighing.

"Who would think one little hobbit could cause so much drama within such a large mountain." The blonde hobbit muttered more to himself than to Thorin, causing his cousin to snigger.

"Yeah, but she's always been one to cause drama, whether she means to or not. Remember her returning after her venture? That stirred the pot something nice."

Saradoc nodded before shaking his blonde curls.

"This is different." He replied before looking up at Thorin, "Is it truly so bad for your people, her being here? To make them go to such lengths?"

"It is more complicated than that." Thorin replied gently.

"The boy." Lotho snorted from where he stood grouchily to the side, "Your son. Told you," he was speaking to the hobbit men as if Thorin wasn't standing right there, able to hear every word spoken "is what's causing the pot to stir."

"Don't sound so proud." Paladin retorted, "We knew that already. Though why it should matter…"

"He's king, ain't he." Lotho retorted, jerking his thumb back at Thorin.

"So?" Paladin snapped in return, "Shouldn't make a difference, him being a king or not. Accept it and move on."

"It is accepted," Thorin butted in, hoping to stop the two hobbits from coming to blows, even if Lotho truly did deserve a sound beating.

"Only because the lad has something or other to do with one of your ancient kings, otherwise…" Lotho started but Thorin cut him off sharply.

"Otherwise, nothing. Frodo being Durin reincarnated has indeed helped with my people accepting him as my own, but they would have done so anyways, though it might have taken them more time."

"Then why was she attacked then?" Saradoc pressed, "if Frodo is accepted because of who you believe he is or used to be or whatever, than why was she attacked? Were they trying to kill her? Because of Frodo? Or because of that crime she committed against you all those years ago? The one she's now having to have a trial for to make things right? Or," the hobbit man swallowed, "are they after Frodo?"

Thorin gave the hobbit a good hard look before nodding.

"Frodo?"

Saradoc let out a long, slow breath.

"Because he's your son, or because of who he used to be?"

"We do not know. The dwarf who attacked Billanna, ah, died at the scene."

"You could have left him alive to question him, at least. Or is it smash first, ask question later with all things you dwarves deal with?" Thorin chose to ignore Lotho's comment, or else break the stupid hobbit's nose (and possibly his face, but who would notice… or care?).

"Will this keep happening?" Saradoc asked, also ignoring Lotho.

Thorin thought over his words carefully before he spoke.

"I pray not." He started slowly, "hopefully with this failed attack or kidnapping or whatever it was, those behind it will think long and hard about trying again, and by the time they do, if they do plan something again, Billanna's trial will be long over and she will have the full protection and acceptance of this mountain. Or she will have returned to the Shire by then." He winced as he said that.

"Aye, but she wasn't safe there either, was she now? That's where this whole mess began, remember. She, along with us, were stolen from her home, the one place she is always, always meant to feel safe and secure and she was taken from there. Who's to say, once we return and if she and Frodo come back with us, that whoever it is after her and Frodo now, won't come after them again? And… and you won't be there to protect them."

"Saradoc…" Paladin tapped his cousin's shoulder gently as Thorin rubbed his temple.

"Sorry," Saradoc went slightly red around his pointed ears, "though not really. It's just how I am, I think of these things. And don't you think for a moment, that she," he pointed of to where Billanna rested still, "hasn't thought of them as well. Because she has, long and hard, and probably for far longer than anyone would suspect. Because that's just the way she is too."

"I know." Thorin agreed because of course she had, she wouldn't be Billanna if she hadn't thought of the worst case scenarios when she was meant to be safe and sound.

"All of what you say is true," He continued, forcing himself to remain calm and not to allow his own worry, his own fear show, "but there is little that I can do for what might or might not happen in the future, except to plan for it the best that I can now. If Billanna wishes to return to the Shire with Frodo, than you will all be escorted back to the Shire and depending upon Billanna's wishes and what the situation here is like, a guard or two may remain in the Shire, at a distance but always on hand if Billanna or Frodo should need it. Hopefully they never will."

"And your plans for between now and then? Between us being here and going home?" Paladin asked.

"It is too dangerous for you all to return home now, winter is too close at hand and the trip from here to the Shire is treacherous even in summer, under the best of conditions. However long-term lodgings have been set-up for all of you, in a different part of the royal wing, so hopefully you will be most comfortable there and it will discourage any further actions against Billanna or Frodo."

"But you can't, one hundred per cent, guarantee their safety though, can you?" Saradoc said softly and Thorin found himself wincing at an old memory the hobbit's words unintentionally provoked.

'I cannot guarantee her safety.'

'Understood'

'Nor will I be responsible for her fate'

He had come a long way from those words spoken at Billanna's table to the Wizard, a long way from thinking her nothing more than a burden, a waste of time and nothing more than the means of a Wizard's amusement. And yet, here he was now, eleven years on, and still unable to guarantee her safety, even though it was now one of his dearest wishes and he was now not only entirely responsible for not only her fate, but their son's, as well as her present hobbit family.

"No," He admitted quietly, "but know that I will do everything in my power to keep them safe. They are my responsibility."

This, more than anything else that he had said or could have said, seemed to appease Saradoc and Paladin (even Lotho looked somewhat reassured, though this might be thinking that by him promising to keep Billanna safe, Lotho by proxy, would also be kept safe) and the hobbits nodded, giving him their thanks, which he took only on principle for his heart knew he did not deserve their thanks, he was after all only trying to do what was right, make amends to his wrong doings and failure for not protecting his burglar better, inside his own mountain.

He left soon after the end of his conversation with the hobbits, knowing that Billanna was in more than capable hands, or at least, in safe hands with her father and Saradoc.

He ran a hand threw his loose mane of dark, silver streaked hair, feeling tired while at the same time energised. This was not an unusual state for him to find himself in and usually he took himself off to his private forge to burn off some energy, usually by makes frying pans, which he had more than a surplus of now.

His mind turned over the idea of going to his forge, the appeal of it, even if it was only to make yet another frying pan or… his mind shifted suddenly, images of Billanna, crouched on the floor, covered in blood and of knives.

Protection, she needed protection. Protection that would keep her safe from all harm that could befall her and also of which she could use to defend herself with. His mind ran with that thought, knowing that he already had at hand something that would protect her from most kinds of harm, or least harm that could otherwise prove to be fatal. And protecting herself? He could also do something about that too.

With a plan forming inside his head, he marched first to his private chambers to change into old, worn clothes that he could work comfortably in at his forge, shoving something precious and shiny under his coat, all the while fingering something small, circular and just as precious that sat always in his pocket of whatever clothing he wore.

He had work to do.

TMPoT

Fili was, to say the least, exhausted. He was certain he hadn't felt this tired after the Battle of Five Armies. It matters not that he was unconscious for several days afterwards.

He stared down at Frodo, who had quite suddenly keeled over from his own exhaustion and was now passed out on some cushions in his and Kili's private sitting room.

"I'm dead." Kili proclaimed from where he was lying in an almost foetal position near to where their little cousin slept.

"It was your idea to give him six sweet pies. With cream." Fili replied but without much conviction. He hadn't exactly argued against Kili giving Frodo the six sweet pies to eat, resulting in an almost immediate sugar high and the near destruction of the Durin line.

Fili was fairly certain he wasn't going to be joking with Bilbo anytime soon about how he and Kili had almost lost her son over the side of a walkway ledge – and of course it had to be one of the ones that had no railing. He really was going to have to have a subtle word with his uncle about maybe, just maybe putting some craftsman on to that. Gold was great and all, but he's had to save way too many family members in the past eleven years from premature and rather humiliating deaths of taking one step to close off of an un-railed walkway, that he's lucky he still has an arm left in his socket. And he would honestly like to keep his arm, to tell all truths. – They had almost lost themselves over the edge too, with their desperate lunge for their cousin before he went tumbling down, down into the very belly of the mountain.

So yes, telling Bilbo about that little adventure was not something either brother planned on doing anytime soon. Even on of pain of death.

Or Thorin, for that matter.

Thorin had visited only a little while ago, taken one look at the destruction of their private sitting room, grinned and left them to it without so much as a word of encourage or advise or even good luck to be heard. He probably thought that they deserved it, what with all the things they had made him put up with when they were dwarflings. But to be fair, there was two of them, and only one of Frodo and Fili was fairly certain that between him and Kili, at a similar age, they had never made this much mess in so few hours. But then again, they might have helped Frodo make the mess, so maybe they weren't entirely innocent.

He stared down once more at his little cousin, who looked so much like Kili did when he was a tiny lad that it was astonishing. The family ties were obvious; no one in their right mind could or would deny that Frodo was definitely family, a member of the House of Durin, the son of the king.

Fili felt the now familiar pain in his chest as he continued to stare down at his cousin.

It wasn't his fault, Fili thought, rubbing his chest, right where the pain was, none of this was Frodo's fault. Nor was it Bilbo's. Or even Thorin's. But…

"You need to stop worrying." Kili said suddenly causing Fili to jump to find his brother leaning against the wall beside him. He hadn't heard him moving from the cushion from which he had collapsed on moments ago.

"Whose says I'm worrying?" Fili demanded quietly so as to not wake his little cousin.

"Your moustache." Kili replied, giving one of Fili's moustache braids a gentle tug. "But seriously, you need to stop worry about the succession."

"Whose says…"

"It's you." Kili continued breezily, "of course you're worrying about that. Everyone in the mountain is, though," he added quickly when Fili began to protest, "They're worrying about it for entirely different reasons to you."

"Oh?" Fili asked rather dryly, "and how am I worrying about it, oh wise one."

"You're worrying in regards to what it will mean to Frodo, what it will mean for Bilbo and what it will, of course, mean to you. Everyone else just thinks that Uncle will name Frodo as his heir, which he won't, you know that, they're not caring about…"

"Kili."

"What? Oh, come on Fee!" His brother smacked him around the head, "You're meant to be smart one, remember?! Uncle is never going to put Frodo above you in the line of succession."

"You… nobody knows that." Fili growled half-heartedly.

"I do. Uncles does. Bilbo does. The company does. You are Uncle's heir! Always have been, always will be. End of story. It has and never will be up for discussion."

"He is Durin! He is uncle's son! He is meant to be king, not me." Fili fumed, not sure what he was actually angry about or who with.

"Yes," Kili replied in a surprisingly calm and mature tone, "he is all of those things… except for the last one. He isn't meant to be king, you are. Do you really think Bilbo would wish for him," Kili pointed at Frodo, "to be king? Do you even think it has crossed her mind?"

"Yes." Fili replied if only because Bilbo was one of the most logical thinkers he knew and of course she would have realised, even if she didn't fully understand just how royalty worked, that by having the king's child, her child was royal and, even illegitimate, he could still test Fili for the throne and the moment it was revealed that he was Durin…

"Alright," Kili concede huffily, "so maybe it did cross her mind, but only for her to baulk at it. Fee, she doesn't want him to be Thorin's heir, she wants to you to remain uncle's heir and to be king."

"It won't… that doesn't matter Kee." Fili ran a hand threw his hair, "if the people want him, Thorin will…"

"Uncle will do what is best for our people." Kili replied wisely before rolling his eyes, "Which is you. By Mahal's fucking hammer, I cannot believe we are even having this conversation. Why are you the only dwarf, only person who can't see how right you are to be king? The King! Under this Mountain. Everyone thinks so…"

"Thought so…"

"Thinks so," Kili continued talking over him, "Uncle does, Balin does, Bilbo does, Dain, Dwalin, King Bard the Dragonslayer... Do you seriously want me to make you up a list of all the people, be they dwarf, man, elf or hobbit, who think you will be a great king?"

"Uncle hasn't said…"

"Uncle hasn't said anything about this because he probably doesn't think he needs to. Because to everyone but you, it's obvious! You…are…meant…to…be…the…King…under…this…fucking…MOUNTAIN!"

"Kee…" Fili looked over to their sleeping cousin who was now grumbling and frowning in his sleep. Kili face turned red and he quickly hurried over to Frodo, lifting him up into his arms and hugging him close.

"It's the truth, Fee." Kili continued quietly as he came and sat back down by Fili, Frodo tucked securely beneath his chin, "I just wish you'd see it for yourself."

Fili opened his mouth before closing it again.

"I don't know…" he started before falling silent, thinking over his words, "I don't know why it upsets me or angers me so. And there's a part of me that isn't at the same time, a part of me that is overjoyed at the prospect of uncle having another heir, an heir who will be above me in succession but…"

"That's just a small part, yeah?" Kili guess and Fili nodded his head slowly.

"Understandable really," Kili said suddenly after a few moments of silence, "You've, and almost everybody else, has pretty much built your whole life around you being King or at least leader of our people and suddenly this little tyke appears out of nowhere and pulls all your hard work, years of trying to prove your worth, making yourself into the prefect heir, out from under you, making it seem like it was all a waste. I can imagine anyone in your situation would find that frustrating, and hurtful, and a little scary cause now you're thinking, what now? What do I do with myself now? All those years of knowing who you are, what you are expected to be, what your meant to be, have been utterly smashed. That is, in your mind." Kili flicked his brother's forehead, "In reality they haven't because nothing has changed. Everything is the same as it has always been; only now we got an adorable little cousin who we can spoil and play with."

"Kee…"

"If you're so worried about this, go and ask Uncle. He'll set you straight. Or Amad. Or, and even better, go ask Bilbo, she'll give you a right earful, she will. She has even higher hopes and expectations of you as a king than I think Uncle, Amad, everyone combined does."

"I did try." Fili admitted softly, feeling a little sheepish now, "to ask Bilbo about… this. But… I just couldn't get the words out. I know she would have answered me, but a part of me was afraid of what she might answer me with." He was smacked over the head once again.

"You're an idiot." Kili informed him with mock disgust. "She would have told you everything I've told you now, plus more. And she would have grabbed you by the ear and dragged you before Amad and Uncle and let them give you an earful for thinking the things you've been stewing over. You know she would."

"I know." he felt his lips twitch into a small smile.

"Feel better?"

"A little." Fili admitted, and he did, the pain in his chest was less now, and the worry in his head had quieten to an annoying niggle. "When did you get so smart with this sort of thing?" he asked his little brother with a fond smile who returned it with his own cheeky one.

"Maybe I've just always been good at this stuff and you've just never noticed."

"Maybe. Or maybe it because of all the time you've spent with your elf." Fili watched with great delight at his brother's face went scarlet.

"Shut it! That's – she..."

Fili simply snorted with amusement at his brother's stuttering protests, stretching his arms above his head and yawning.

"Come on, bed. Us and him. We'll clean-up" he waved a hand at their mess of a sitting room, "tomorrow morning."

"Yeah, alright." Kili replied, looking relieved at the idea of not having deal with the sitting room until the following morning. With a sneaky smirk, he all but shoved his sleeping cousin in his unsuspecting older brother's arms.

"KILI!" Fili hissed out as he scrambled to get a better hold of Frodo, hugging him close. Kili smirked only more widely back at him before running for his room.

Fili shook his head after him before looking down at his baby cousin, who was curling himself into his chest, one small hand curling around one of his braids. Despite all his worries, his silent, hidden fears and anger, there was no hatred towards this child, or jealousy. He loved this little boy, who was as sweet and caring and strong as his Hobbit mother, possessing her wit and cheek while at the same time, every stubborn look or determined frown was an echo of his uncle.

As upset and confused with the world as he currently was, there was no hatred or anger toward this child in his arms, nor was there any ill feelings towards the two people who created him. In time, Fili was sure he would find himself again, and the place that he stood in the world, where it be his uncle's heir or not. And if not, and this child was to be king, then Fili would follow him wherever he led, even to his death.

Fili smiled down at his cousin before walking after his brother, helping him with the cushions and blankets they had pulled into the sitting room to create a fort, into some semblance of bedding before all three Durin princes collapsed into a heap, Frodo curled in the middle with Fili and Kili sleeping protectively either side of him and for a few hours, all was right with their world.

Author's Note: I told you I was going to work more Fili in here (and yes, I know Fili isn't a King... yet. But he will be). More Fili love is needed. And more Kili/Fili scenes too. I'm saying this to myself as well as to the rest of the world. Like I said ages ago when I was wee little tyke, 'you can't have Fili without Kili' when I was asked by my Dad who my second favourite dwarf was (I furiously disliked Thorin (at that time... damn you Richard!) And Balin won hands down as my favourite dwarf in the book). So yeah, I'm gonna try and get more brotherly scenes in here, along with Fili being, you know, royal heir and his general fantastic self.
I think, in my universe at least, Kili has inherited the Durin's line dark looks but his father's and Frerin attitude towards life, while Fili takes after his father's side in looks, but is much more like Thorin than Frodo will ever grow to be. He isn't of course, world-harden or angry (Kili won't let him) as Thorin was and still can be, but he deals with his problems much the same way as Thorin does. Stews and broods over them, wants to deal with them all by himself, wants to not be burden to others by speaking of his problems with others, but at the same time, Fili is a lot more self-sacrificing than anyone else is in the line of Durin, he is far more humble and even kinder than most of the line of Durin, which I think will make him a great King when it is time, but I'll get into that later. This isn't the end of Fili's self-doubt but it is starting to deal and accept it in a healthy manner that he was previously which was him simply stewing on it and let it eat away at him.

Quote from The Hobbit, The Unexpected Journey own b Tolkien, Peter Jackson and some film companies I can't quite remember the name of and can't be bothered looking up.