Kíli's reaction to Gandalf is immediate and heart wrenching, even to Bilba who only has Fíli's stories to give her any idea of who Kíli might have been before. Fíli's stories all paint Kíli as vibrant and confident, lively and cheeky and very curious. The stories are a far cry from the terrified dwarf in front of them now. As soon as Kíli sees Gandalf he collapses to his knees and curls into a ball, silent but for the occasional sound of his panicked breathing. Thorin is attempting to struggle to his feet as Fíli kneels next to his brother, reaching a hand out to touch Kíli's back gently even as Thorin yells for Fíli to step away. The shout summons the others, the room that they have taken refuge in suddenly feeling too small and crowded with the sounds of their demands.

It is the noise that seems to make Kíli react, shoving his way past his confused brother with a deceptive strength and rushing to a corner where he curls as though trying to vanish into the stone. The sound of hard dwarf voices only makes him shrink away more and Bilba can see the helpless devastation on Fíli's face as he realises that there is nothing he can do for his brother who seems completely lost in his memories. In the end it is Thorin who silences them all, roaring for quiet and then turning to look at his missing nephew with an expression as lost as Fíli's, though he must have seen others in this kind of condition at some point during his long life.

"Bilba," he says, "I need you to talk to him, assure him that he is safe."

"Me?" She squeaks.

"Your voice is not like ours," Thorin replies, "nor is it like that of any orc, Man or wizard he might have encountered during his captivity. It may reach him faster than the rest of us can, even Fíli or I."

"Thorin, what in Mahal's name is going on?" She hears Dwalin demand as she approaches Kíli, deliberately trying to make noise even though it is the opposite of what hobbits usually do.

"Kíli," she says softly, "can you hear me? You're safe, none of us are going to hurt you. Not even Gandalf. He'll probably help us get you out of those chains. Will you look at me?"

She continues this way for a while, talking gently and eventually moving from soft reassurances to telling him about how she came to be involved with this odd group. After a time, he uncurls and lets her take his hand in hers and she hardly dares to breathe as she keeps up her steady stream of words. She is vaguely aware of Thorin telling the others what he knows, of Adra wrapping her arms around Fíli and the ever-present sensation of jealousy that fills her whenever the cousins are close no matter how ridiculous it is. She feels Kíli flinch when Dwalin almost roars that he is going to hunt the White Wizard down and kill him slowly, would miss the fact that Fíli mutters 'not if I get him first' if not for the fact that Kíli gasps and begins muttering that he shouldn't, none of them should because they have no idea of the danger of wizards. Glancing at Gandalf, who has always appeared to be little more than a harmless old man, Bilba is inclined to agree with him.

The grey wizard is obviously incensed, and obviously as exhausted as Thorin, but he doesn't speak much as the others demand their answers and make their threats. Bilba wants answers herself, though she cannot ask the questions, and she is running out of words to put together. She doesn't want to risk upsetting Kíli by telling him more about their journey, has no idea how he might react to it all, and so begins to hum. It is a song that she has heard the others humming more than once, their deep dwarven voices lending a rich depth to the song even though they have never shared the words in her presence. She clearly remembers Fíli telling her how much Kíli had enjoyed music, however, and when she glances at the younger dwarf she can see him staring at her from under his hood with wide eyes that, for the first time, are not shaded by fear.

"I don't know the words," she admits, "but they all hum it often enough. Do you know them? Can you sing them for me?"

"The wizard wouldn't allow it," Kíli breathes.

"He isn't here now," Bilba replies. "He can't hurt you anymore," and she has no doubts at all that Saruman has hurt Kíli repeatedly. "None of us will let him."

She continues to hum and, after a moment, Kíli joins her. He is hesitant, his fingers twisting in his robe and his head twisting as though he expects to be reprimanded at any moment. She stills his hand with her free one, starting the song again when she reaches the end since it is the only dwarf tune she has even a passing familiarity with. It comes as a surprise to hear Fíli's voice join them as he eases down next to his brother, and obviously it is as much of a surprise to Kíli who falters momentarily until he realises who it is. The music seems to calm him more than Bilba's chatter could, enough that even when the others join in he just seems to melt into it all.

Then, quite suddenly, he begins to sob. Bilba turns panicked eyes on Fíli, who looks just as baffled, and reaches for Kíli who shies away again. The wizard beckons her over and she goes with a concerned glance over her shoulder

"Give him some space, my dear," Gandalf says, his face grey with exhaustion and sorrow. "It has been many years since he has known love and safety, it will be hard to adjust to it."

"What was done to him, Gandalf?" Bilba asks.

The dwarves are singing now, and much as she wishes she could listen to words that have never been shared with her, her interest lies in trying to understand what has happened to Fíli's brother.

"That, I could not say," Gandalf sighs, "though I could make a number of guesses which I doubt would be too far off the mark. Dwarves are stubborn creatures, stone headed. His captor needed to control the boy and his voice might work well on Men, and even the odd elf, but he has always struggled to use it around dwarves. Aulë did well with that aspect of them at least. He will have needed to break Kíli enough that he could control him."

"Will he ever get better?" Bilba asks, dashing tears from her cheeks as she thinks of how different this creature is to the brother Fíli described so lovingly.

"That depends entirely on him," Gandalf replies, "and on how much he allows those who love him to help. He will never be what he was, that is lost to him, but I think he will know happiness again. I doubt his brother and uncle would allow anything else."

"No," she whispers, "they wouldn't. But will they be able to protect him?" She asks. "He took the stone and I promised him we would keep him safe, but what about the dwarves in Moria? How can we keep him safe from them when we have to take it back there?"

"The solution to that will have to remain a mystery, Bilba," Gandalf's voice is tired. "But I can assure you that Thorin's authority in that place is far greater than he would have anyone realise. Thorin and Fíli will keep him safe, there is no need to fear for that."

Kíli has calmed now and is hesitantly leaning towards his brother, who seems just as nervous about touching him. The wizard pats her shoulder and she takes it as a dismissal. She slides back into the little group to sit next to Fíli and lays her head against his arm in silent support as he finally takes his brother in his arms. She suspects, from the fact that his chest no longer rumbles with song, that his emotions have also caught up to him and she burrows closer to him, wishing that she could take this pain from them. She hardly notices when she falls asleep to the sound of dwarf songs and the warm press of them all around her.


A.N: Hope you all had an awesome holiday, no matter what you celebrate. I'm back to my busy, busy time but feel free to drop me a comment and let me know what you think. All the comments encourage me to carry on with it.