The days drag by; without Nori and Dwalin, Fíli and Thorin have to take their own turns watching from the walls and the hours spent in the cold are tedious. Laketown is almost a week away by pony and the two weeks that his friends are away feel as though they will never end. Thorin manages to scrounge up another violin, although this one is in worse condition than Kíli's, and a small harp. Fíli joins his brother in relearning what he once knew so well. Years of avoiding the instrument, however, are not easily put to one side and Fíli struggles more with getting his fingers to cooperate than Kíli does.
More than before he was lost Kíli seems to take refuge in his music and Fíli finds himself wishing that he could join his brother in that.
"Not that one," Kíli says abruptly when Fíli plays the opening bars of one they had once played regularly.
"But it's your favourite," Fíli replies and out of the corner of his eye he sees Bilba look up from whatever task she had been doing.
"Well it isn't anymore," Kíli hisses, turning his face away.
"If that's what you want," Fíli says mildly, and his brother turns to glare at him.
Truth be told, Fíli has no idea how to respond. Sometimes when they are playing Fíli can forget the years that Kíli has been gone. It doesn't take much to ignore the occasional fumbles from either of them and simply enjoy the memories that come with the music and the sparkle that it brings to his brother's eyes. That light is gone now, replaced by something haunted and scared. Fíli has no idea what might have brought it on.
"We can play something else," Fíli adds.
"I don't want to play anymore," Kíli replies, setting his violin down gently. Fíli is alarmed to note, however, that his hands are shaking. "I just want to rest."
He watches Kíli pull his hood back over his head and walk over to the corner that has become his. Fíli's belongings are nearby as well, of course, but he only tends to make his way there at night and he has already learnt that when Kíli says he wants to rest he really wants to be left alone.
"What was that about?" Bilba whispers with a glance at his brother. Fíli shrugs. "Are you alright?"
"Shouldn't you be asking Kíli that?" He mutters, staring at his hands.
"No," Bilba replies, grabbing his sleeve so that she can drag him from the room. "I'm asking you."
"Of course I am," Fíli hisses, but he can tell that she knows he is lying. "It doesn't matter, it's Kíli we should be thinking about."
"We have been," Bilba says, "but we've been so focussed on your brother that I don't think anyone has thought to ask you how you're coping with it."
"Fine," he stutters, "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be? I've got my brother back." Bilba stares up at him in silence and Fíli leans back against the wall. "I don't know what to do, I should be happy, I wanted him back and now he's here." Bilba's blue eyes watch him as he slides down the wall. "How can I be happy to have him back when he's like that?" He snarls. "And it's my fault."
"How can it possibly be your fault?" Bilba asks, obviously alarmed when she kneels next to him, resting her hand on his knee and watching his face.
"If I hadn't lost sight of him, or I had found him sooner, he wouldn't have been taken."
This is not a new thought, for all he has never voiced it to Thorin or anyone else. Fíli has spent years thinking it off and on when his longing for the presence and understanding of his brother has been at its most powerful. Seeing Kíli as he now is, has brought it all back and as hard as he has tried to hide it, he cannot help saying it now. He wonders what Bilba will say, wondering whether she agrees with him. He wouldn't blame her if she did.
"That's ridiculous!" She exclaims. He huffs and looks away from her and is startled when her cool hands grab his face to force him to look at her. "Was Thorin with you? Dwalin?" He nods. "And what makes you more responsible for your brother's safety than they were? They were the adults, as I understand it you aren't of age yet."
"Not for four months," he confirms.
"So how could you possibly have been the only one responsible for your brother?" Bilba asks. He shakes his head, not expecting her to understand that, aside from Thor, Kíli had been the only other family he had in the world. "And for all you know if you'd been with him you both would have been taken, or you could have been killed. Or taken yourself and Kíli left for dead." He stares at her.
"I still should have been with him," Fíli mumbles.
"The only one responsible for any of this is the White Wizard," Bilba tells him.
"It's easy to say," he disagrees, "but if I had done better in the first place-" He falls silent.
"We can't change the past, Fíli," Bilba replies. "Don't you think that if I could I would go back and save my parents?"
"I'm sorry," he mutters, because he knows how lucky he has been, really, to actually have his brother back in his life.
"I've made my peace with it," Bilba replies. "I accepted a long time ago that there was nothing I could have done." She runs her fingers over his cheeks. "But it sounds like you never really managed that," he stares. "I know you want to help your brother, but don't forget that this affects you as well."
"Where was this wisdom when we met?" He teases half-heartedly. She gives him a lopsided little smile, and he takes her into his arms, holding her tightly as she wraps her arms around his neck, allowing him a moment to bury his face into her shoulder. "Thank you," he breathes against her neck, leaning back.
"Any time," she replies no less softly.
Their eyes meet. Hers are soft, full of some gentle emotion that he does not dare to name but that steals his breath. He is still holding her, one hand on her hip where she had knelt to allow him the embrace that had offered so much comfort, and her face is so close that he can feel her gentle exhales. Then his lips are on hers and for a moment all thoughts of his brother and the Arkenstone and what happens next are gone. Her arms, still around his neck, shift so that her hands can wind into his hair and he presses her tightly to him. Fíli has kissed others before, but none of them have felt like this. None of them have felt as though fire is dancing under his skin and the mountain could fall down upon his head and he would not care so long as he was able to keep on kissing her.
They break apart with a gasp as soon as that thought crosses his mind.
"Forgive me," he says as they do. "I should never have-"
"No," Bilba shakes her head. "It was my fault." He reaches towards her and she pulls away. "It can't happen again," she says firmly, although he suspects she is talking more to herself than to him.
"Why?" He asks. "If you don't-"
"I do," she interrupts, "but we still have to go to Moria and I- I have to be free of all prior obligations and entanglements. If it happens again-"
She doesn't need to finish her sentence; he understands what she means. Nor does he try to stop her when she gets to her feet and hurries away from him. Instead he leans his head back against the wall and stares up at the ceiling. What will happen, he wonders, if Durin's heir does appear?
A.N: I wasn't going to leave the kiss in. Originally I was going to rewrite this whole chapter. I have a rewrite without it. But it didn't read the same and didn't feel right. So I left it in. Coming up to the last of the rewrite stuff now, after the next chapter (I think) it'll all be new content for the story.
