AN – Wow. I just…wow. I am so overwhelmed by the love you guys show me; seriously! I am so glad that you're loving this story and all of my favorite head cannons for these babies, and I am happy to bring you a brand spakin' new chapter!
PS: Thank you for my dear friend Captain America (no tumblr or account, boo) for the beta read. We've been friends since middle school when we wrote super gay, super smutty Gundam Wing fics!
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I still own nothing. Enjoy!
Warnings: Angst, mean little dwarflings, awkward Dwalin and super protective Thorin, mild violence.
Greater than Gold
Chapter 6: Twenty and Fourteen
By Displaced Hobbit
"Have you decided what weapon you would like to specialize in?" Thorin asks idly as they are walking back to the settlement. Fili has just turned twenty, and he has spent the last ten years learning how to maneuver and fight with all types of weapons. It is typically around a dwarfling's twentieth year that they choose one to be their weapon of choice in battle. Those who aim to be warriors continue their training with that specific weapon until they reach their majority, and those who do not begin learning whatever craft they choose instead, while still attending weekly training sessions.
"Mister Dwalin really wants me to take up the axe," he replies. "But I think I'd like to stick with the sword. Twin swords, perhaps, if I can manage it."
Thorin can't help the swell of pride that he feels at his nephew's statement. Fili, despite his youth, has already shown all of the makings of a great warrior. He fights as fluidly as he has ever seen, and his instincts in battle (however mock they may be) are almost on par with Dwalin's. He had flourished in his lessons with Balin, was smart and patient and kind, but stern when necessary, with maturity well beyond his years. He would be a great king one day, Thorin knew without a doubt.
"I think you'd be able to manage the twin swords just fine," he says, trying to sound nonchalant about it, but Fili picks up on the pride in his voice and flashes him a bright smile, nudging him with his shoulder as he walks.
They'd travelled down from the settlement the day before, to deliver some of the goods Thorin and Dwalin had crafted at the forge to the town of men below. It was the first time Thorin had ever brought him along on business, but Fili supposed it was because he was due to start learning to ways of the forge, and Thorin wanted to start exposing him to what his work would entail.
Kili had pouted and whined at being left behind to stay with Dwalin and Balin, but if Fili was honest with himself, he had been grateful for the respite from his little brother, even if it were the first time they were apart from one another for an entire night. It was rare that he and Thorin were able to spend any time alone together, and he quite liked their easy conversations and comfortable silences that came when Kili was not around. It wasn't to say that he didn't adore his little brother any longer – he did, he really did – but there weren't many dwarflings close to Kili's age, and he hadn't made hardly any of his own friends (save for Ori, but he had been Fili's friend first), so he spent a great deal of time trailing after his older brother.
At first, it hadn't bothered him at all, but then he became aware of the teasing looks his friends would pass one another when they saw Kili trailing behind him, saw how his friends would exclude him from some activities because they didn't want Kili to come along. It wasn't his brother's fault, not really, they'd never lived around their own kind before coming to this settlement, and all they'd had was each other. But as he grew older, he found himself itching for independence, but he wasn't sure how to get it without hurting Kili's feelings.
"You awfully thoughtful," Thorin observed as he urged their pony off the path for a rest, and Fili flushed lightly in embarrassment.
"Did you ever…" he started, as Thorin handed him a small container of stew they had purchased in the town before leaving. "Oh, never mind."
Thorin raised an eyebrow. "Never mind what, lad?" he asked gently.
Fili sighed, trying to come up with the right words. "I know you loved Uncle Frerin," he said quietly, taking note of the way his uncle tensed at the mention of his brother's name. "But did you ever wish that he would just leave you be? I just…there aren't any other dwarrows close to Kili's age, other than Ori and me, but he's just…he's always following me around, trying to do what I want to do, and sometimes I wish he'd just leave me alone."
Thorin nodded. "I suppose I felt that way for a time, but things were different in Erebor than they are here; there were many more children around, and we had your mother." An uncommonly soft smile graced his lips. "I do remember him becoming bothersome, but then your mother came along, and he decided that he wanted to be 'as great a big brother as Thorin,' and he spent much of his time with her, when I was your age."
Fili sighed heavily. "I just wish he had his own friends," he muttered. Upon glancing back up at Thorin's face, and noticing the stern look he was receiving, he corrected himself. "I love him, Uncle, you know that I do, but I…"
"You want to be your own dwarf, and you don't know how to do that with Kili constantly around," he finished for him.
"Exactly!" he agreed. "And I don't want to hurt his feelings; I would rather die than do that."
"Perhaps I will speak to him when we return," Thorin offered. "He does need to learn to be without you, without me, but I suspect it will be a hard lesson for him."
"Maybe that would help," Fili agreed. "Thank you, Uncle."
Dwalin frowned, watching as Ori was very close to besting Kili in their sparring match. Kili may not have been as fluid of a fighter as his brother or uncle, but he was still quite talented, far more talented than Ori, and he should have been easily winning their match. Ori swings his wooden sword at Kili's legs, sending the younger lad toppling to the ground with a frustrated huff. The point of Ori's sword is immediately at the lad's sternum, as he happily demands that Kili yield.
It has been a long time since Ori has won a sparring match, since he is often paired with Kili, and Dwalin allows himself a small smile as he watches a grin split across his young face, talking excitedly with Kili as he reaches a hand down to help the smaller lad up. Kili gives him a pat on the back and a strained smile, and Dwalin decides that the boys have had enough sparring for the day.
"Nicely done, Ori," he calls, and Ori gives him the most pleased expression while Kili looks at the ground, ashamed. "I think that's enough for you today; run along home, lad."
Ori does as he's told, and Kili trudges over to him, shoulders hunched and eyes fixed firmly on the ground. Dwalin knows he is expecting a tongue lashing, and he's half determined to give it to him. He wants to remind him that he is of the line of Durin, is second in line for the throne, and that he must take his training seriously, but the snickers from some of the older dwarrows, ones that usually train with Gloin, from across the arena change his mind. The lad probably feels embarrassed enough, and he feels no need to humiliate him further.
"Come on, lad," he mutters softly. "Let's go practice with your throwing knives and call it a day."
"M'tired," Kili complains, but follows obediently. Dwalin was well aware of the fact that the lad hadn't slept at all the night before; he'd overheard him confessing as much to Balin that morning, saying that he couldn't sleep without Fili or his uncle. He felt a pang of sympathy for the boy; he could remember when he'd been absolutely unable to fall asleep until his mother had read him a story, or sang him a lullaby, or simply sat with him, and he hadn't been much older than Kili when he'd started to grow out of that phase. He was sure it had been hard to spend his first night away from both of them.
"Well, I'm sure you'll have a better sleep tonight," he said. "I can't sleep in that dreadful guest room either. It's always cold and smells too much like Balin's books."
Kili laughs lightly at that and flashes him a grateful smile.
"Besides, I'd like to give your uncle some good news about your training, instead of telling him of how little Ori trounced you," he adds, laughing heartily when Kili glowers at him.
Whenever Kili has a bad day at training, Dwalin likes to take him to practice his throwing knives to cheer him up. Kili's hands are steady, and his aim is always true, so the practice usually serves to restore his confidence for the day, and gives him something to rave to Thorin about. He and Kili quickly set up the range, distributing the targets to all different distances, including some that are quite far away that the lad doesn't yet have the arm to reach, though not for lack of trying.
Once he is satisfied with the targets, Dwalin turns back to the start, intending to tell Kili to pull out his knives to get started, and sees the lad running his fingers along a bow resting against the weapons rack.
"Can I learn to use the bow instead?" Kili asks, and Dwalin starts to tell him no, remembering what a disaster it had been to try and teach Fili. He was aiming to boost the lad's confidence, not frustrate him further. But Thorin had some skill with a bow, and if he remembered correctly, so did the boy's father, so he didn't see the harm in trying.
"So long as your promise not to nearly shoot me like your brother did," he agrees. "Though you'll need a smaller one than that." He searches through the weapons rack for a moment, finally finding one that should do for the lad. It's a bit beat up and needs restringing, and he silently hopes that it doesn't snap on the boy. He grabs a vambrace and a finger tab and instructs the lad to put them on while he searches for a quiver with usable arrows. It has been a while since any of the dwarrows had tried to learn archery, and he hadn't realized how badly his supplies had dwindled.
"Now," he murmurs when Kili has all of the correct gear. "Let's say we want to shoot at this target." He points to one about midway down the range, grasping Kili by the shoulders to pull him into position. "You'll need to stand here, vertical to the target." He crouches down behind the boy and grasps both of his hands. "Put the bow in your left – that's it, and you'll pull with your right." He shows Kili how to grasp the string and pull it back to shoot. "Three fingers, lad, and pull it back until they brush your cheek."
He has the lad practice pulling the string back a few times, pleased to see that his hands are as steady as ever, before handing him an arrow and showing him how to nock it in place. He has the lad practice pulling it back a few times more, has him practice lining up the arrow to the target, before telling him to take a deep breath and shoot.
The arrow thunks into the target, just below the bull's-eye, and Dwalin's mouth drops open in astonishment.
"Was that good?" Kili asks earnestly, an excited smile on his face as he waits for his elder's reaction.
Dwalin stands straight and steps away from him. "Do it again," he demands, eager to see if the lad can repeat his success without his assistance. Kili's smile falters slightly at the avoidance of his question, but he does as he's told. The second arrow hits its mark, right in the center of the target, and Dwalin lets out a roaring cheer for the lad. Kili smiles up at him, face flushed with excitement as Dwalin claps a hand on his shoulder.
"Well I'll be damned," he laughed. "Fourteen years old and already better than your uncle!"
Kili positively glows from his praise.
They spend the next few hours shooting at all of the targets, and Kili at least hits every last one of them. Eventually the string does snap, leaving a burn across Kili's cheek, but the lad is too excited to care. He practically bounces the entire way back to Dwalin and Balin's home, chatting animatedly with Dwalin the entire way. His enthusiasm rubs off on the older dwarf, and he finds himself often laughing with the lad, and eventually he promises to find him a proper bow.
When they arrive back out the house, Balin listens intently as Kili recounts his achievements in archery, and shoves at Dwalin's shoulder, calling him 'an old softy' when he sees him beaming with praise.
"Would you like to come with me to fetch your brother?" Thorin asks as they're leaving the stables. For a moment, Fili wonders why he even asks, before he remembers their earlier conversation.
"Of course I would," he says quietly. "I've missed him."
Thorin gives him a fond smile. "I have as well. Let us hope he did not terrorize Dwalin too badly."
Fili laughs. "I wouldn't count on it. He's been with them for an entire day!"
Thorin knocks thrice on the door before letting himself in, and is nearly tackled to the floor not a moment later when Kili barrels into him. He lifts the lad into a firm hug before planting a kiss on his cheek and setting him back down. Kili does succeed in knocking his brother over when he pounces on him, declaring how much he missed him as he does.
"And here I thought you would have tired him out for me," Thorin comments dryly as he claps arms with Dwalin.
"Give him five minutes," his longtime friend mutters. "Didn't sleep at all last night, and trained all day. He'll be out like a light before you get him home."
"Uncle!" Kili calls as he helps Fili back to his feet. The lad is smiling brightly, but Thorin can see the exhaustion etched across his features. "Mister Dwalin taught me how to shoot a bow and he says…he says I'm even better than you!" he declares excitedly.
"No doubt you're better than me, at least," Fili adds, flashing Dwalin a sheepish smile.
"Is that so?" Thorin asks, tenderly cupping the lad's head with fond affection.
"Aye, it is," Dwalin confirmed. "A right natural, that boy is. Steady hands and aim as true as ever!"
"I suppose one day soon you'll have a new hunting partner, my friend," Thorin adds with a small smile, watching as Kili stumbles over his words to tell Fili about his day, his hands gripping at his brother's excitedly.
He understands Fili's need for independence, but he also understands Kili's dependence on him, and he hopes that he is able to come to a happy solution between the pair. He has no doubt that it will hurt Kili, but hopefully he will be able to distract him with his own lessons and, now, archery, to make it sting less.
Balin invites them to stay for dinner, but he can see how Kili's eyelids are drooping and hear the sleepy slurs in his words, so he declines. He gathers Kili up on his back to take him home and bids his longtime friends a good night.
As Dwalin predicted, he is asleep before they reach their home.
"But I always go to the market with Fili."
Thorin pinches the bridge of his nose, willing himself to stay patient. It's been a number of weeks since he and Fili traveled to the town of men alone, and Kili is still fighting him on spending time away from his brother.
Their talk had gone well; Kili seemed to understand that it was important that they become their own dwarrows, that they would inevitably have to spend long periods of time apart, and that he may as well start adjusting to it now. Though he supposed there was a large difference between understanding the words and accepting the small absences of his brother in his life.
Two nights before, he'd let Fili spend the night with another dwarfling's family, and he'd fully intended to make Kili sleep in his own bed, alone, just once. He'd gotten the lad to fall asleep after hours of stories, but when Kili woke not long after, screaming from night terrors, Thorin had relented and pulled him into bed with him for the remainder of the night. Kili had asked a million questions about where his brother was and why he couldn't be with him every time they were separated.
"I know, Kili," he grumbled. "But he is going to spend some time with his friends today." His youngest nephew frowned at him. "You have sparring practice anyhow; you couldn't go with him if you wanted to."
"But I do want to!" Kili huffed.
Thorin sighed. "You must remember what we talked about, lad."
"But it's not fair!" he whined. "There are lots of dwarrows Fili's age for him to play with. All I have is Ori, and Mister Dori never lets him out, if he can help it."
Thorin pursed his lips. Kili did have a point. "You used to always love spending time with Mister Bofur," he says, trying to find someone who the lad might be able to spend time with, other than his brother.
"He's in the mines all the time now," Kili pouted. "And he's a grown up! I don't want to play with grown ups."
"Well, perhaps when baby Gimli is older…?" he starts, but snaps his mouth shut at the glare Kili gives him. It rivals his own, and makes Thorin wonder yet again if Kili could pass for his own son.
"I just don't understand why Fili doesn't like me anymore," Kili mumbles as he pulls on his boots. He'll need to leave for training soon, lest he want Dwalin to be cross with him again.
"Kili," Thorin sighs, and a frown on his face "Your brother loves you, you shouldn't say such things."
"Sorry," he mutters as he grabs his sword and focuses on attaching the belt to his waist.
"You must give your brother some time, Kili. He will figure things out for himself soon enough." Thorin urged. Kili doesn't answer; he just keeps his gaze fixed on the floor as he secures his weapon He sighs and walks over to his youngest nephew, tipping his chin up to make him meet his gaze.
He frowns at the tears he sees pooling in the lad's eyes, but Kili quickly squeezes his eyes shut to clear the tears away. "M'fine, Uncle," he promised, even as Thorin's thumb sweeps across his cheek to wipe the one droplet that escaped.
"My boy," he murmured softly. "Give it time. You must learn to be without your brother sometime. When he is of age, he'll be expected to travel with me for many occasions. You must learn how to be all right on your own."
The boy frowned, and Thorin saw the absolute fear in his eyes before he took a deep breath and nodded. He was clearly none too pleased about this new bit of information. "Yes, Uncle," he whispered.
Thorin cupped both his cheeks and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "That's a good lad," he said, giving Kili one of the small smiles that he reserved for his nephews. "Now, let's get you to your training, shall we?"
He doesn't usually walk the boy to his lessons, not here where there is abundant safety in living with other dwarrows, but he is due to be at the forge anyhow, and he thinks it might be wise to warn Dwalin of Kili's potential sour mood. He doesn't miss the small, grateful smile that Kili gives him before he jogs across the sparring arena, to where Ori is sifting through the weapons with interest. Dwalin claps him on the shoulder in greeting once he arrives; the pair lean on the fence that surrounded the small space.
"Off to the forge, are you?" he asks, friendly smile on his face. "I'll be on my way over when I finish with the lads," he adds when Thorin nods.
"Lots of pots to mend," Thorin muttered dryly. The day before, a trio of brothers had travelled from the town of men and dropped off an alarming quantity of cookware to be mended for their mother, as a birthday gift. It wasn't the sort of work that he particularly enjoyed – his skill lay primarily in weapon making – but work was work, and he would take it either way.
"I got something for your boy," Dwalin said as he watched Ori attempt to pull a much too large sword from the weapons rack, much to Kili's amusement. "Found a bow he could use for practice, if you want him to have it."
Thorin chuckled lightly. "I think a bow of his own is just the thing to mend this terrible mood of his."
Dwalin scoffed. "You always bring him to me when he's in a mood," he muttered under his breath.
"Well, you are his favorite grown up, or so he tells me," Thorin explains. "After dear Mister Bofur, of course."
Dwalin gives him a punch on the arm. "Well, I'm sure I'll be first after I give him that bow," he declares, and Thorin laughs as he bids his farewell and heads to the forge.
Fili laughs heartily as Clach tells an obviously embellished story about how his da took on a whole horde of orcs, singe-handedly killing each and every one in a variety of creative ways. He doesn't mind the older dwarrow much, he's a bit brash and standoffish, but he tells amusing stories and he was the first to welcome Fili into their group, despite the fact that he was a good five years younger than the rest of them. He praised Fili for his height and his skill in the arena, and he found himself preferring the approval of his peers to Kili's blind adoration.
Abruptly, Clach halted in his story, a small sneer forming on his face. "I thought I told you to leave him at home, Fili."
Fili turned to look behind him, and, sure enough, Kili was racing in his direction with Ori trailing behind him, happy smiles on their faces. "I did," he sighs. "Let me just see what he wants."
Kili very nearly crashed into him, and he probably would have fallen straight on his behind if Fili and Ori hadn't both reached out hands to steady him. "Look, Fee; look!" he exclaimed as he pulled a bow from his back. "Look what Mister Dwalin got me! I can practice all the time now!"
He couldn't help but smile at his brother's enthusiasm, and he reached down to squeeze Kili's shoulder affectionately. "That's great, brother," he murmured. "Have you gone to show Uncle?"
Kili shook his head. "I wanted you to see first!" He was breathless with his excitement. "Will you come and watch me shoot?"
He heard one of the other dwarrows, Mogue, he thought, laugh loudly, and the rest of his friends snickered along. He sighed. He'd like to go and see, he really would, but he knew his friends would never let him hear the end of it if he ran off now, not after he'd promised that he could keep Kili out of his hair long enough to spend time with them. "Not today, Kee. I'm busy."
A tiny bit of guilt gnawed at him as Kili's face fell. His younger brother looked behind him at his friends and sighed. "Some other time then?" he asked, his voice tinged with disappointment that only Fili could pick up on.
He gave him a small smile. "Of course. Now run along and show Uncle!"
Kili still frowned, but he nodded. Ori grabbed his arm and urged him with a quiet "Come on, then," and they disappeared in the direction of the forge.
"How sweet; the little elf has his own bow now," Mogue murmured as he turned back around, causing the other dwarrows to laugh loudly. "How much longer do you think until he runs off in the words with his own kind?"
Fili frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"We've been wondering," Clach said as he crossed his arms on his chest. "Is he really your brother?"
"What?" he asked, feeling anger surge hotly inside of him. Surely they could not be insinuating….
"Well he's so fair of face and has such a small nose that he may as well be an elfling," Mogue observed.
"And no sign of a beard at all!" Baeddan chimed in. "Even that baby born a few months ago has his beard long enough to braid!"
"And you Da died before he was born, if I'm not mistaken," Clach observed, and Fili had to clinch his fists at his sides. "There's loads of stories about dwarf women becoming right whores when their Ones die. Probably found herself a wandering elf to keep her company at night!"
"Shut it," Fili demanded, his voice dangerously low., almost lost amongst the laughter of his so-called friends A few of the other dwarrows backed away slightly, and one of the lasses tugged at Clach's arm, but he shrugged her off.
"It's too bad she's dead and can't tell you for certain," he continued, voice dripping venom. "Probably killed herself with shame the second he was born, I'd wager."
"Shut UP!" Fili shouted again, and a few of the dwarrows scattered off. Clach stood his ground, Mogue and Baeddan by his sides. "You know nothing of my family," he seethed.
"And then you are your uncle are just too stupid to see what's obvious," he baited again. "Can't even see what a worthless half-breed runt you have in front of you."
Something inside Fili snapped and he lunged at Clach as his vision bled red. His fists connected with his face, arms, stomach, anything he could reach. He caught the older dwarfling completely off guard, and he'd only had time to bring his arms up to shield his face. Baeddan and Mogue tried to pull him off, but he aimed punches at their stomachs until they turned tail and ran. Clach was screaming obscenities at him, and trying to flip him off, but Fili help strong, kept his attack going.
He was dimly aware of someone screaming and crying, but in his haze of rage, he did not realize it was himself.
Suddenly, a pair of strong hands grabbed him about his shoulders and yanked him away. He struggled to pull away, to get back to the brawl, but he was tackled to the ground, arms pinned helplessly to his sides.
"That's enough, lad" Dwalin was all but growling in his ear as the red slowly cleared from his vision and he calmed. As soon as he stopped struggling, he was grabbed up by his arm and all but hauled away from the marketplace. He couldn't stop the hot, angry tears from falling, and he knew that he must look terribly, terribly weak, but he couldn't bring himself to care. In the blink of an eye, he was being shoved through the door of the forge and practically tossed to the floor.
Thorin looked up from his work and frowned. "What in Durin's name is going on?" he nearly shouted as he took in the sight of his shaking, sobbing nephew, dropping his tools to crouch by him when he saw the blood on his knuckles.
"Brawling witch Clach in the marketplace," Dwalin growled angrily. "After all we've taught him about propriety…"
"Do you know what they say about them?" Fili snapped as his uncle drew his hands up for closer inspection. "What they say about Mum? And Kee?" He choked out a sobbing breath. "They call her a whore, uncle. A whore! And they said Kili was a half-breed, that he was worthless, and I couldn't…" He dissolves into a fit of sobs.
Thorin pulls him close. "Breathe, Fili," he urges gently, trying to calm to boy down. "You mustn't let yourself get caught up in the idle gossip of children. They know nothing."
It takes a few moments for Fili to calm his breathing, but he can't quite get a reign on his tears. "I wish mum was still here," he laments against his uncle's chest. "They wouldn't have anything to say if she were here."
Thorin eventually pushes him away and murmurs, "Let's get you cleaned up, then" as he pats his cheek and offers him a sad smile. "Kili, fetch me that basin of water and a rag."
Fili looks behind his uncle to see his brother, wide-eyed and trembling, with an equally astonished Ori standing next to him, but he does as he's told. He was still clutching that stupid bow in his hands before grasping the basin, and he feels an anger he can't describe bubble up inside of him.
"You," he all but snarls when Kili turns back to face him. His younger brother stops dead in his tracks, brows furrowed in confusion at his brother's tone.
"Fili," Thorin warns, but he doesn't care. He hurts, he hurts because of Kili and suddenly, terrifyingly, he wants Kili to hurt to.
"I told you to leave me alone," he nearly shouts as he scrambles to his feet. Thorin grabs his wrist to pull him back, but he twists it free.
Kili takes a step back, knuckles white as they grasp the basin, and Fili takes satisfaction in the fact that he looks like he might cry. "M'sorry, Fee," he murmurs in a tremulous voice. "I just wanted…"
"This is your fault!" he snaps. "If you would just listen! If you would just act like a proper dwarf instead of like…like some elfling! And…and Mum would still be here if it wasn't for you! I wish you hadn't been born!"
He has only a second to see the tears that streak down his brother's face before the basin clatters to the floor. He hears Ori shout, "Kili, wait!" as his uncle whirls him around. Thorin cuffs him hard in the jaw, just as the door slams shut, and Fili finds himself sprawled on the floor of the forge. His brain finally registers what he's said, and a sick horror stirs in his gut as he realizes what he has done.
"I didn't…" he mumbles as a wave of nausea surges up within him. "I didn't mean…"
Thorin grabs him by his tunic and practically throws him onto a nearby armchair, looming over him with the angriest expression he has ever seen. Fili hates that the anger is directed at him, hates that he deserves it, and shame washes over him. What has he done?
"Are you finished?" Thorin practically growls. When Fili doesn't answer, he grabs his shoulders and shakes him firmly.
"Yes! I didn't…I didn't mean to say that, Uncle; I swear!" His hand reaches up to cup the soreness in his jaw, still disbelieving that he had driven his uncle to hit him in anger. "I'm sorry; I'm so sorry," he mumbles, close to crying again. What has he done?!
A strange emotion flits across Thorin's face before he sighs heavily. He rights himself, gaze still filled with anger, as he heads to an equipment cabinet and pulls out a small jar of something. He tosses it to Fili, and he recognizes it as a salve they use for any burns or wounds the may acquire in the forge. "Put that on your jaw," he commands. "And don't even think of moving from that spot until I've found your brother."
He flushes with shame and embarrassment. "Yes, Uncle," he whispers.
He waits until the door slams shut to let himself cry.
Dwalin had chased after Kili the second he'd bolted from the forge, as had Ori, but damn if the lad wasn't fast and he'd lost sight of him in the marketplace.
"I think I know where he's going," Ori offered, so Dwalin gestured from him to show him the way. The lad takes off through the marketplace, heading to the mouth of the cavern. Dwalin instinctively grasps the hilt of his sword; the woods on the face of the mountain could easily be teeming with orcs and goblins, and it is no place for dwarflings.
Sure enough, he catches sight of Kili again as he bolts for the tree line. He knows the lad loves the fresh air in the forest, that he loves to climb trees, and he almost wants to give the lad his respite and let him wander the woods until he calms, but Thorin would have his head if anything happened to the boy and he had done nothing, so he hurries off to follow, leaving Ori struggling to keep up behind him.
Kili trips over something just after he passes the tree line and careens to the ground, face first. Dwalin panics for a split second when the lad makes no move to get up, hastens his steps to get to him as soon as possible. He would deny it later, but his heart plummets into his boots when he gets a good look at the lad. He's practically curled in on himself, hands grasping at the forest soil, sobbing brokenly. He sinks to his knees next to him, but is at a complete loss of what to do. Comforting little dwarrows was not a skill he'd ever needed to acquire, something he'd always left to Balin to deal with, and he suddenly wished that it were Thorin who had followed the boy out. He tentatively splays a hand across Kili's back, but that only makes the dwarfling cry harder, and he immediately pulls it away as if he's been burned.
Thankfully, Ori is not far behind him. He crouches next to him, murmuring softly to him as he grasps at his hands and pulls at him, eventually pulling him into a half-sitting position where he's leaning heavily against Ori's side. He doesn't offer any words of comfort, just quiet encouragement to focus on his breathing, to relax. It takes a long while, long enough that the sun begins to set and eerie shadows fall throughout the forest, but the lad eventually calms.
Dwalin sits and watches, feeling useless. He wants to go and find Thorin, to lead him to the lads and maybe go and knock some sense into Fili, but he is reluctant to leave two young dwarflings in the forest at sunset, so he waits.
"Let's get you home, lad," he offers once the boy has been calm for a while, but Kili shakes his head.
"Don't want to go there," he whispers, but he doesn't fight it when Dwalin starts to pull him to his feet. He stumbles with every step he takes, and Ori eventually pulls him onto his back. Darkness has fallen by the time they reach the marketplace, and Dwalin finally releases a long-held breath as he lets his hand fall away from the hilt of his sword.
They find Thorin speaking with one of the members of the settlement guard, overhear him saying that he will see to it that Fili personally pays him the fine for brawling in the marketplace, while Clach's father demands that he also apologize to his boy. Thorin's tone is tight, his face rigid, and Dwalin can't begin to imagine the myriad of emotions his old friend must be feeling now.
The rightful king's tension positively melts when he spies them approaching, and he quickly excuses himself from the conversation.
"There you are," he breaths as he pulls an unresponsive Kili from Ori's back and holds him close. "You had me right terrified, Kili." Kili only moves to curl his fingers into Thorin's hair, something he has done since a babe to calm himself. Thorin balances him carefully on his hip, suddenly grateful that the lad hasn't grown too big for his arms the way Fili has.
"Come, Ori," he murmurs quietly. "I'll walk you home. I'm sure your brothers are wondering where you've got off to."
Ori has to nod in agreement. "I'm surprised Dori isn't turning the marketplace upside down as we speak," he admits.
They drop Ori off at home, to a very relieved looking Dori, and bid Dwalin a god night when they pass his home. Their home is quiet and still when they arrive, and Thorin sets about getting a bath started for the lad. He's covered in a fine layer of dirt, and Thorin knows he must have run out into the woods, which makes him ever more grateful of Dwalin's watchful eyes. And Ori's.
Kili doesn't speak once, stays stoic as ever; even with Thorin's gentle prodding. He sits still as a stone in the bath, but once Thorin's gotten him clean, he starts to cry again, silently and softly, but still the tears tear at Thorin in a way he wishes it didn't.
It reminds him of Frerin, the bleakest he'd ever seen his brother, when he's discovered that his One hadn't escaped from Erebor. He'd been despondent for weeks, and it had nearly torn Thorin apart with worry. They'd just lost their home; he couldn't bear the thought of loosing his brother, too.
But he had lost his brother, in the end. And his father, his grandfather, his sister.
He's drawn out of his thoughts by Kili's hand brushing gently across his cheek. It's a gesture he's seen the lad use on his brother many times, less often on himself. It's his way of offering comfort when he can tell someone is upset or sad.
"I'm sorry," Kili murmurs, his voice rough from crying and disuse. "It's my fault…"
"No," Thorin says, his tone leaving no room for argument, though Kili hasn't learned to head that just yet.
"But Fosur says that your cursed if your mum dies when you're born…" he argues, tears pooling in his eyes, but Thorin cuts him off.
"Your mum did not die when you were born, Kili," he soothes. "She fell ill after, from the cold. It was not your fault."
"But Fosur says…"
"Fosur is an idiot," Thorin nearly snaps, remembering the ill attitude the young dwarrow from their old town had always sported. He thrived on making the other dwarflings feel small, and stupid. He'd told Kili that he wasn't a real dwarf because his parents were dead. He hadn't thought it possible to hate a child, but with terrors like Fosur, and now Clach, he was starting to reconsider.
"But Fili said…" Kili murmurs, a choked sob coming out at the mere memory of what his brother had said to him a few hours prior.
"Your brother is acting like an idiot," Thorin explained as he drew Kili from the tub and wrapped him in a towel before sitting him in his lap. "He did not know what he was saying, Kili, I promise you." Kili starts to protest again, but he shushes him. "He was hurt and sadden by what his friends said, little one. He forgot himself in his anger."
Kili doesn't look convinced, but he nods anyway. "Head hurts," he mumbles.
"Let's get you some tea then," he decides, handing the lad a sleeping tunic to put on as he finishes drying himself. He looks so young to Thorin's eyes, so raw, and he wishes that he could take back Fili's anger, wishes he cold have bottled the lad's innocence years ago, wishes he could have kept him pure.
He hesitates for a moment before slipping a bit of sleeping drought into Oin's headache cure-all tea brew. If Kili notices it, he doesn't mention it, and he drinks the entire mug while Thorin finishes combing the knots from his hair. It isn't long until Kili declares that he is sleepy, and by the time he has the lad tucked into his bed he is fast asleep.
He sighs heavily and sits to watch the lad sleep for a while. He doesn't want to fetch Fili, not when he's still this angry. He's angry with the boy for his ill-thought words and actions. He's angry that he was brawling in the marketplace instead of being his normal, level headed self. Most of all, he was angry with himself for striking Fili in anger. He wishes he could take it back, but he knows he can't. He's made a mistake and he has to live with it, has to hope that Fili will forgive him, but he can't shake the feeling that there's something between them that he's broken and can never get back.
Eventually he pulls himself from his cowardice and returns to the forge. He doesn't know whether he's pleased of saddened that Fili is still exactly where he left him, eyes red and swollen from crying and sporting a smattering of purple along his jaw.
"Is he alright?" he asks immediately, uncurling himself from the armchair, but not daring to leave without Thorin's permission.
"Aye, he is," he answers quietly. "He is rather upset, and tired, and sore –"
"Why is he sore?" Fili nearly shouted, voice tinged with concern.
"Ori said he fell in the words," he explains quickly. "He's not hurt, Fili. I promise you."
Fili looks desperate. "I have to speak with him, Uncle. I have to tell him I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I love him so much, so much and I need to…"
"Shhh, lad," he murmurs, reaching a hand out to pat his shoulder. "He knows. He'll feel better once you tell him, but he knows."
"Does he hate me?" he asks in a small voice.
Thorin kneels down to be level with his eldest nephew. "He does not, Fili. He adores you. That's why he was so upset."
Fili nods before nervously chewing on his lip. "Do you hate me?"
Thorin shook his head, reached forward to cup his uninjured cheek. "I could never. I'm sorry I struck you," he murmurs, feeling ashamed. "I forgot myself."
Fili gives him a small smile. "I think I needed it." He sighed. "I didn't even know what I was saying," he whispers, disbelievingly.
"There is a fierce anger that comes when someone threatens the ones you love," Thorin speaks quietly. "I doubt you have felt that anger before." Fili shakes his head. "I would like to say that you won't feel it again, but I know you will. In time you will learn to direct it only to those who deserve it, but I do not blame you for lashing out as you did."
Fili nods. "Uncle," he murmurs, "do people really think that? About Mum and Kili?"
Thorin sighs and ruffles and hand through Fili's messy hair. "There are some who seek to bring down our family, Fili. They seek to make us out to be monsters, to say that we deserve what the dragon brought to us. And they will say things – they will say anything – they wish if they think others will believe it."
Fili frowns deeply. "Is that why you want to get Erebor back?"
"It is but a small part. I have learned not to care much of what others think of my line, though the idle gossip does stir up more anger than it should, especially when it concerns you brother," he admits. "But he is young, he will grow and be strong, and all of these idiotic doubts will be cast aside."
Fili nods and absorbs his uncle's words for a moment. "I want to go home," he whispers, finally. "Can I come home?"
Thorin stands and pulls Fili to his feet as well. "Of course, of course. I did not intend to keep you locked away in here. I just wanted to tend to both of you, to make sure you were both alright."
Fili hums quietly in agreement. "I just feel empty," he admits quietly as he wraps his fingers in the fabric of Thorin's sleeve. "I just…I need Kili to know that I'm sorry, that I didn't mean it. I meant it when I said I would rather die than hurt him."
"I know," Thorin murmurs quietly as they slip back out into the marketplace.
"I can't believe I thought people lack Clach could be more important than Kee," he continues. "I'm so stupid."
"You must make mistakes in order to learn from them, Fili," Thorin soothes gently. "This will pass in time. You cannot take your actions back, nor your words, but you will be able to choose your future actions with more care."
"I'm so sorry, Uncle," Fili whispers again. Thorin doesn't attempt to soothe him further, he knows there is nothing more he can say, and they walk in a stiff silence back to their home.
As soon as Fili steps inside, he sheds his boots and his weapons and rushed back to the bedroom he shares with his brother. Thorin is half tempted to stop him, to let Kili sleep, but he knows Fili needs this. He follows after him, feeling more tired than he can remember for a long, long time, but needed to make sure they are both okay before he lets himself sleep.
"Kili," Fili calls urgently, shaking his brother gently to rouse him. "I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice clogged with tears. "I'm so, so sorry, Kee."
Kili is crawling into his arms as soon as he realizes what is going on, hands cupping his cheeks, fingers brushing the tears away when they fall.
"I love you so much," Fili admits into his hair when he clutches him close. "It's not your fault; I was so stupid. I'm sorry. I love you." He repeats the words like a litany until he's sure Kili believes him. Eventually Fili calms himself down, his fingers brushing through Kili's hair and holding his brother close to his chest.
"Please forgive me, Kee," he murmurs as he's crawling into bed with his brother to sleep. "Please, please. I couldn't bear it if you didn't."
"S'okay, Fee," is all Kili says, his voice heavy with exhaustion and the tears that are still falling.
Fili sobs with relief.
Thorin let's the door slip closed quietly when he is sure that the boys are all right, that they won't start fighting or reject each one another. He sinks into an armchair in their front room, sags back in it with exhaustion. He can't help the negative turn his thoughts take.
Like Fili, he wishes his sister were still alive. He wishes it were her who read Kili to sleep and braided Fili's hair. He wishes it wasn't him, alone, mucking it up all over the place. He always found himself trying to decide what Dis would do in situations with her boys, and sometimes he tries to emulate her, but he can't, no matter how hard he tries.
He wishes Frerin were here. He was always better when Frerin was around, hadn't really been whole since he'd lost him on the battlefield so long ago. Frerin had been so young, too young to fight in a battle. They both had been far too you, and the only reason they'd fought was because their grandfather had felt so desperate to find them a home. He remembers holding Frerin tight against his chest, combing his fingers through his hair as he died. They had been as close as Fili and Kili were, and when Frerin died, part of Thorin did too.
He doesn't try to stop the tears that start streaming down his cheeks. He doesn't try to stop the sobs that bubble up in his throat. He doesn't stop himself from crawling into bed with his nephews, doesn't stop the small smile that comes when they curl up next to him in sleep, Kili sand sandwiched between his brother and his uncle.
He wonders if one day he'll tell his boys that they keep the bad dreams away from him, or if he'll just let them think it's only the other way around.