AN – So, this chapter got away from me a little bit. I probably should have split it in two, but oh well. This chapter is 26 pages in Word, and I usually start to wrap up after 10. =)
I hope you all enjoy this update!
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I still own nothing. Enjoy!
Warnings: Violence, blood, little bit of gore (and if you're squeamish about broken bones you might be uncomfortable for a bit), angsty, angsty angst.
Greater than Gold
Chapter 7: Twenty-four and Nineteen
By Displaced Hobbit
"Well look who it is," someone sneered from behind him. "The little runt who would rather be a bookworm than a warrior."
Ori flinched at the words, but kept his head held high, though he did clutch the three tomes he was carrying closer to his chest. He had just finished a history lesson with Balin, one that he had found particularly fascinating; even of it had nearly put Kili to sleep. His teacher had loaned him a few books to read up more on the subject before ushering him out. Normally, Kili would head for the marketplace with him, but Balin had held him back, presumably to give him a scolding for his behavior, and he found himself wishing that his friend were with him. The others usually didn't bother him unless he was alone. He started to second-guess his decision to cut through one of the back alleyways on his way to Bofur's shop, but he simply quickened his pace.
"So sweet how he pretends not to hear," another voice chimed in.
"Perhaps he's just too stupid to know what we're saying," said a third.
He clinched his fists a little tighter around his books. Kili always ignored the stupid things they said to him (though he'd confided in Ori that ignoring it didn't make the words hurt less), so he focused on putting one foot in front of the other. He was almost out of the alleyway, anyhow, and they wouldn't dare taunt him in the marketplace, not after Fili had so fully throttled Clach some years back.
Nearly there. Nearly safe and the teasing will stop. For today, at least.
A hand grasped him roughly by the hood of his cloak and yanked him backward. Where he had just seen the bustling salvation of the marketplace was replaced with the almost mockingly sunny sky, along with four sneering faces that he thinks he actually hates. Clach, his brother Clavin, Baeddan, and Mogue are all sneering down at him, and for a second he thinks that he must be as stupid as they're saying, because he set himself up, walking through the alleyway like that. He starts to shout out for help, but Baeddan kicks him hard in the jaw before Clavin yanks him up by his collar and slams him against the unrelenting stone wall at the back of Bofur's shop (so mockingly close).
"Is there something wrong with you ears, boy?" Clavin sneers.
'Just didn't hear anything worthwhile,' his mind snaps back, while his mouth wisely stays shut.
Clavin shakes him, hard, and his vision blurs when his head smacks against the stone before he rights himself. "Guess you are just stupid." He should be surprised when the older dwarrow pulls his arm back and punches him hard across his left cheek, but he's genuinely not. He is surprised when Clavin abruptly releases him, and he sinks down to the ground, dizzy from the hit.
"Leave off!" Kili shouts, and Ori can't describe how thankful he feels in that exact moment. He knows he should be embarrassed – Kili is younger and smaller than him, and a proper dwarrow would never be so weak as to need saving from him – but he can't bother himself to be. The world spins violently for a moment when he tries to stand, and the sound of blood rushing through his ears nearly deafens him. He uses the wall like a lifeline, and when he finally rights himself his stomach sinks into his boots.
Somehow they've gotten Kili on the ground, and they're kicking him – all four of them! – and he can barely see his friend at all. A distinctive crack and the sound of Kili crying out in obvious pain spurs him from his stupor into action, and he runs for the marketplace before any of them have even noticed he's standing. He finds Bofur and his cousin Bifur immediately as he whirls around the corner of the shop, causing both of them to look up in alarm. He doesn't get any words out – they must have seen his stricken face, and he can taste blood in his mouth – before they are both rushing at him. All he manages to do is point to the alleyway as his vision swims again. He moves to follow them, but a wave of nausea crashes over him, and he finds himself collapsed on the ground, dry heaving into the dirt instead.
It feels like an eternity and just one second have passed at the same time when Bifur is pulling him back to his feet while Bofur cradles a very bloody Kili against his chest. They start to make for the House of Healing, but Ori's stomach lurches at the sight of his friend in such a state because of him and everything fades to black.
"Hold him down, Bofur," Oin murmurs softly. "This is going to hurt."
He opens his eyes to see Kili sprawled on one of the beds in the houses of healing, and belatedly realizes that he is laid out as well. His head swims violently as he sits up, whether from the sudden movement or from the sight of Kili's obviously broken arm, he isn't sure. Oin spares him a small glance and a reassuring smile when he sees that he's awake.
"I've sent Bifur to fetch one of your brothers," he offers comfortingly. "And Mister Thorin. You just lie still for a while and rest. You've got a nasty nock to the head, laddie."
Ori frowns, his hand coming up to feel the hot swelling along his cheek. "Kili?" he calls.
"M'fine," his friend answers in response, sounding anything but. He can't see his face for where Bofur is sitting, but he would bet his books that he's crying (not that Ori would blame him, one bit, as his eyes once again focus on the bone sticking through his skin). He turns his head and closes his eyes as the urge to vomit seizes at him again.
"Here, lad," Bofur says as he turns back to Kili, his voice tight. "Bite on this, not your lip." His tone is gentle and soothing, meant to be the calm before the storm. "We'll get you cleaned up and have the bone reset in no time at all, you'll see. It'll only hurt for a bit."
Kili sucks in a sharp breath, and Ori can only imagine Oin scrubbing at the wound with his stinging antiseptics, for he doesn't dare open his eyes again. He almost wants to crawl over to the other bed, to hold Kili's hand tight and offer him some reassurance, but every small movement his head makes feels as though it's being split against an anvil, so he stays where he is. The smell of the antiseptic makes him want to be sick, so he lets himself fall back against the pillow.
"Almost done, laddie," Oin soothes when Kili lets out a strangled cry. "Can't stitch you up with any dirt and filth inside."
The front door slams open before Thorin is calling out. "Oin!"
"Back room on the left," Bofur shouts in response, and Ori cracks an eye open to see that Oin is diligently scrubbing at Kili's wound, the bone still out of place. His vision swims wildly.
Thorin enters with all the grace of a wild boar, so breathless that it's obvious he ran straight here. Ori is a little disappointed that it's not one of his own brothers; he'd be quite contented to curl up against Dori's side and not move for a few weeks, or listen to Nori threaten each and every one of those wretched, stupid boys. Oh, Dori was going to be such a mess over this. He always warned him about walking through the alleyways, with Kili or not, and Ori was sure he would never hear the end of it.
When Thorin arrives, he takes Bofur's place by Kili's head, and the toymaker blissfully moves to block his view of Kili's arm. He manages to catch a glimpse at how ashen the lad's face is, and guilt surges through him. "I'm sorry, Kili," he mumbles out.
Thorin's head snaps around as if focusing on him for the first time, and Ori can literally see the puzzle pieces clicking together in his head. "Bifur didn't mention…" he shakes his head, as if clearing it. "Are you all right, lad?"
Ori starts to answer, but a strangled whimper from Kili draws everyone's attention away from him. He is glad for it; he admires Thorin, admires what he has done for their people, but the should-be king is often imposing and honestly a little terrifying, and he hates to have that intensity focused on him, even in such a caring capacity.
"All right, Kili," Oin murmurs softly. "All clean. Now, on the count of three, I'm going to set the bone back in place, okay?" His voice is calm and reassuring and even Ori finds himself relaxing under the gentle tone. "It's going to hurt, quite a lot. I'm sorry."
"No pain killers," Thorin all but whisperers as Kili whines pitifully. "They make him sick."
"They make him sick," Oin says at the same moment. "I know, Thorin. Trust me; I've got your boy." Thorin's shoulders slump a bit, but he sees him nod. "On the count of three, laddie."
Ori squeezes his eyes shut, presses his hands firmly against his ears, not wanting to hear that sickening crack again.
It doesn't block out the sound when Kili screams.
Thorin runs a hand through the boy's tangled hair, trying desperately to distract him from what is about to happen. He'd cringed at the sight of Kili's arm; it was one of the worst breaks he had ever seen, and he's seen plenty in his lifetime. He settles on cupping the right side of the boy's face (it's less bruised than the left, which is already covered in mottled purple) and turning his face away from his mangled arm. He uses his other hand to press down on the lad's shoulder, noting how Bofur has moved to pin his legs down as well. His heart positively breaks when Kili lets out the barest whimper, fear obvious in his wide brown eyes. He presses their foreheads together to offer comfort, and he feels Kili's opposite hand tangle in his sleeve.
"I'm right here, little one," he murmurs quietly.
"One," Oin all but whispers as he adjusts his grip on the lad's arm. Kili squeezes his eyes shut and bites down hard on the leather between his teeth.
"Relax," Thorin eases gently, and Kili does as he asked (as best as he can) and releases a shaking breath.
"Two," Oin says softly once the tension in the boy's shoulders has lessened, before gripping the arm hard and snapping the bone back into place with a horrific sound that makes even Thorin want to vomit.
Kili screams, and it's such an agonized, wretched sound that tears at Thorin, brings him right back to the day he lost his baby brother, but he quickly swallows those feelings down, focuses on calming the lad. He whispers every soft word of encouragement he knows against Kili's sweaty temple, focuses on holding him still each time he tries to pull away from Oin's grasp. He's amazed that he's still even conscious as he chances a glance up to see their healer quickly stitching up the wound. The boy's cries have quieted substantially, but he's slipped into a mantra of "please" and "stop" and "I'm sorry" through hiccupping, sobbing breaths as his hand clenches and unclenches against Thorin's arm.
"You're being so brave, my boy," he murmurs encouragingly. "So, so brave. Just a little more."
"Please," Kili whines out one last time, and Thorin feels his resolve start to waver and he briefly considers telling Oin to stop. But the lad's eyelids flutter and his body sags, hand dropping heavily from Thorin's sleeve as the intensity of his ordeal and the pain lure him into unconsciousness.
"Bofur, fetch me the splints," Oin demands as soon as Kili falls limp, and the two of them set about bandaging the lad's arm in a way that will limit his mobility and allow the arm to heal properly.
Thorin keeps his forehead pressed to Kili's, keeps his hand carding through the boy's hair as he tries to calm his breathing. He hates to see his boys hurt, even when they boasted of nothing more than scrapes and bruises. He had been a wreck the first time Fili had gotten injured during a sparring lesson – Dwalin had charged him a bit too hard, and the dwarfling had wound up with a sprained wrist and a concussion – because he hadn't known how to care for such things with little dwarrows. Neither of them has ever been hurt like this, and he desperately needed to know what had happened to put his youngest in such a state. Bifur had simply rushed into his meeting with the town's governor, saying that Kili had been hurt, and he'd immediately come running.
"What in Durin's name happened to you, lad?" Dori practically shouts from the doorway. "I've told you a thousand times to never go through that alleyway!" Thorin lifts his head up to give him a nod in greeting, and he notes how all the color has drained from the dwarf's face. He immediately rushes to his brother's bedside and starts mothering and coddling the lad intensely. Ori seems to welcome it, to draw comfort in the affection, and Thorin suddenly feels like he is intruding on something very private, so he turns his gaze back to his nephew.
"I'm sorry! Dori, I'm so, so sorry!" Ori sobs out. "I was just excited about the books Mister Balin gave me and I wanted to show you so I took the shortcut. They must've seen me alone and followed me."
"Clach and his idiotic band of hoodlums," Bofur clarified quietly when Ori pressed his face against his brother's neck and cried. "I'd reckon they'd cornered Ori, and Kili must've seen what was going on and went after them. Had all four of them on him when we got there to help, but they scattered like cockroaches as soon as we came round."
Thorin clinched his jaw in frustration. He would very much like to find and dismember each and every one of those lads for their offenses against his line, regardless of the fact that they were still but children.
Eventually, Ori calmed enough to explain what had happened in greater detail. Thorin couldn't help the pride that welled up in him at his nephew's actions; he had been foolish, trying to take on four older dwarrows alone, but Kili was steadfastly loyal, and he stood up for the things he believed in, for the people he believed in. He was still young and reckless, yet he knew those attributes would continue to grow in his youngest sister-son, and he was grateful for it.
While Ori had explained, Oin had finished tending to Kili's other injuries – aside from a likely concussion and a few cracked ribs, everything else was just bruising – and propped him up comfortably with some pillows, elevating his arm to keep it above his heart and prevent additional swelling. Kili woke just once, asking for his brother and his uncle, before Oin gave him a sleeping draught that knocked him back out again.
"I'd like to keep them both here for the night, Kili for a few days after" Oin explained. "You are welcome to stay with them if you would like," he adds when he notices how stricken Dori looks. "We'll get Ori moved to another room now that they're both stable."
"I'd imagine Fili will want to stay as well," Thorin admits as he brushes some of Kili's sweaty fringe away from his forehead.
As if he had called for the lad, Fili slips through the door, his face pale a drawn tight in concern. Bofur had gone to fetch him from the forge (he and Dwalin had only just started training him in weapons making) as soon as they'd finished splinting Kili's arm, and he was surprised it had taken the lad so long to arrive. Thorin feels his heart clinch when he sees Fili's face fall, clearly distraught over seeing his brother so pale and still.
"Kee," he mumbles out, though he hesitates by the door.
Thorin extends a hand out to usher him to his brother's bedside, but Fili shakes his head. He is drawing deep, gasping breaths, and he's gone nearly as pale as his brother, and Thorin understands just what is happening to the lad. He's on his feet and pulling Fili back outside, back into the open air, rushing past a bewildered Dwalin, before his brain fully processes what he is doing.
"Fili," he calls as his hands grip the lad's shoulders tightly. "Look at me, Fili, and breathe."
Fili shakes his head again and almost wrenches himself free of Thorin's grasp. "I will kill them," he growls out, and Thorin almost wants to let him, but he will keep Fili's hands free from bloodshed for as long as he can manage it.
He shakes him, hard. "You will do no such thing," he commands, hoping that he will be able to calm him down. He recognizes the blind rage that Fili is slipping into, knows it because he has felt it so many times before himself.
"I will, Uncle," Fili seethes. "You won't be able to stop me." He's shaking with anger now, so Thorin releases his shoulders and presses their foreheads together.
"Look at me," he demands as his hands firmly grip the lad's face. "Fili, please." Finally, finally blue eyes focus on his, and he tuts quietly at the sheen of tears he sees there. "Sweet Fili," he soothes. "Just breathe."
"How can you not want to hurt them? To make them pay?" he chokes out, shoulders shaking heavily with the force of his anger and grief. "They hurt him, Uncle. They beat him; they could have killed him if Ori hadn't gone for help!"
"I do want them to pay, Fili," Thorin confesses. "And they will, just not by your hands. You mustn't…you can't…" He swallows the lump that has lodged itself in his throat, trying to will his thoughts into words. "You do not know the heavy burden you would bear if you did this."
"I don't care!" Fili wails. "I don't care, Uncle. I'd kill them a thousand times if it meant keeping Kili safe!"
"Shhh," Thorin murmurs softly as he lets his hands drop back to the lad's shoulders. "I know you would. I know, but you can't. We must follow the laws of our land, Fili, and believe me, I will make sure those idiot boys will pay the severest penalty possible, but you cannot take this into your own hands."
Fili chokes out a sob, his careful hold on his emotions finally unraveling as he lets his head fall to his uncle's shoulder. Thorin immediately wraps his arms around him, holds him close while he cries out all of his hurt and frustration and anger. He holds him tight for a long while, hands rubbing soothing patterns along his back and arms.
"It will be alright, Fili," he soothes once the lad's sobs have quieted. "Your brother is strong; he will persevere."
He feels Fili nod against his chest. "Can I…can I see…"
Thorin presses a quick kiss to his temple before he releases him. "Of course you can, lad. Of course. Oin has even said that you may stay the night here with him if you wish."
Fili breathes out a heavy sigh of relief. "Thank you," he murmurs. "I…I don't know what I would have done…"
He offers the lad a small smile as he reaches up to brush the lingering tears from his cheeks. "Come on then," he murmurs. "Even though he sleeps I know it would comfort Kili greatly to have you near." He ushers the lad back into the house, greeting Oin with a polite nod.
"He's awake again, but not making much sense," he supplied. "Never seen a boy stay awake through a sleeping draught; I'll have to come up with something stronger for him, one day."
Fili rushed ahead to be with his brother, but Thorin held back for a moment.
"He will make a full recovery, my friend," he murmured. "Though I expect he'll be out of sword fighting practice for a while. The arm should heal well enough, if he keeps it still." Thorin snorted out a bit of laughter at that. Getting Smaug out of Erebor would be easier than stopping Kili's squirming. "I'll check it regularly to make sure it's still in place, in any case."
"What about his archery?" he asks quietly. Kili was a natural talent with a bow, and while it was a less-than traditional weapon for a dwarf, it was still a valuable skill to learn, despite what many other dwarrows might think.
Oin scoffed lightly. "You're still encouraging that in him?" Thorin merely shrugged, and did not offer any additional explanation. "It'll be a while before he can pull without any pain, and I would keep him away from it until the arm is fully healed."
He nodded. "Thank you, my friend," he murmured sincerely. "I owe you greatly for this one."
Oin waved him off. "Hush up, would you? And go be with your boys."
Thorin smiled softly and did as he was told.
Thorin sighed heavily as he returned to the House of Healing some hours later. He had only left at Dwalin's insistence that he wash up and find something to eat, and had decided to return to the Town Hall to finish his meeting with the governor. They had been discussing the plans for a set of great halls carved into the mountains, for a more permanent city, one reminiscent of Erebor and Moria, though much less grand. He'd felt it necessary to explain his sudden departure, and to urge the governor to impose the highest punishments on the lad's responsible.
Oin pulls him aside before he makes it back to Kili's room, a concerned frown on his face.
"He's running a fever, Thorin," he whispers urgently. "I've checked the wound but there are no signs of infection. I've given him a draught to work any toxins out of his body, but it hasn't had a chance to take effect yet" He frowns slightly. "He's awake but he's not very…coherent. Keeps babbling about things that don't make any sense. Fili is with him."
Thorin doesn't temper the sigh that escapes him. He had hoped that all Kili would need was a few weeks of rest to heal his broken arm, but it looked like he was facing a much tougher battle. He nods once, and bids Oin his thanks, before walking back into the room, weariness pressing heavily upon his shoulders.
Fili sits on the bed with Kili's back nestled to his chest; arms wrapped carefully around his middle, giving the splinted limb strapped to his chest a wide berth. Kili is deathly pale; the stark contrast between his dark hair and pallid skin makes him look even younger, smaller than Thorin had thought possible. His sweating forehead is pressed against Fili's cheek, and he can see the lad's lips moving, though he is too far away to hear his words. Fili flashes him a tired smile as he enters, before murmuring something softly to Kili and pressing a kiss to his forehead.
"And how are you feeling, my boy?" Thorin asks softly, brushing some of the sweaty strands of hair back from the lad's face with utmost care. He frowns when he sees that the lad's left eye is swollen shut, and the smattering of purple along his face has turned nearly black. He quickly swallows the swell of emotion that wells up inside of him – Kili is clearly not well, and Fili is clearly worried, and it would not do for either of them to see him distraught.
Kili doesn't react to his touch or his words, just continues whispering. "I don't think he can hear us," Fili murmurs sadly. "Mister Oin thinks he is delirious from the fever."
Thorin only catches a few of Kili's utterings, and does not find any meaning in them. "What is he talking about? Can you tell?"
"He's telling me about his Da," his eldest nephew replies before shifting the boy in his arms.
Thorin raises an eyebrow in surprise. "But he's never met –"
"He's talking about you," Fili clarifies, his expression carefully blank.
He doesn't quite know what to think. He has never, never tried to take the place of their father. He makes sure to tell them tales of the man's bravery and kindness whenever he can; he has tried to make sure that his boys knew and respected their parents, knew who they were, what they had done for them, how they had loved them. Yet, there is a part of him that feels elated that Kili holds him in such high regard, that Kili treasures him as all dwarflings should treasure their father.
A swift glance to Fili's face shows him that his heir is upset at the possibility of either of them forgetting their father, and that quickly squashes the happiness he let himself feel. He is not their father, no matter how much he fathers them, and he never will be.
"He is delirious," he finally murmurs in response. "He knows not what he speaks."
Fili nods, but chews on his lip thoughtfully. "I just wish…I just wish he had gotten to know Da," he mumbles. "They're so alike; Da would have loved him."
"He would have," Thorin agrees as he sits down gingerly on the side of the bed. "You should sleep, Fili. I can watch over him for a while." Fili's grip on his brother tightens almost imperceptibly, clearly reluctant to let him go.
Kili screams in pain.
Fili's hands fly back as though he has been burned, and Thorin is on his feet instantly, hands cupping the boy's cheeks and trying to get the lad to focus, to let him know what hurts. He is so hot, much too hot, and he feels a solid lead weight settle in his stomach. Something is dreadfully, terribly wrong with his youngest, and he has never felt so helpless, in all the lad's life.
Oin barges into the room in an instant, urging Fili off the bed as he helps Thorin to lay Kili down. Kili is drawing rapid, gasping breaths, tears streaming freely from his unblemished eye, good hand desperately grasping for purchase as he tries to curl into himself.
"I'm sorry!" Fili is stammering out, hands grasping his chest. "I didn't…I didn't mean to! I'm sorry; it was just a little hug…I didn't even touch his arm. I didn't…"
"It's alright, Fili," Thorin calls to him as he and Oin work to pull the lad's bandaged arm away from his chest. Kili is squirming and struggling against them, breath still coming in ragged gasps mixed with pained little cries. Thorin focuses on restraining him and laying him flat, desperate to keep his arm unharmed, as Oin cuts the bandages around his middle.
Aerona, Gloin's wife and Oin's sister in law, bustles in, arms laden with bandages and other tools the healer might need. She gives Fili and Thorin both a soft, sad smile, before placing the supplies on the bedside table and assisting Oin with his task.
"Damn it," Oin growls out once the bandages are clear, and Thorin's stomach lurches at the severe bruising covering the lad's torso. He hadn't remembered it looking so bad before. Oin presses lightly against the lower right side of the lad's belly, and Kili screams. "It's his appendix. It has to come out. It's probably already burst."
"You mean he needs surgery?" comes Fili's panicked cry from behind him
Aerona starts rummaging through the supply bag, finally producing a small vile of putrid green elixir that she Hands to Thorin. "Have him drink this," she instructs, even though Thorin is already pulling the lid loose. "Make sure he drinks it all."
He presses the vial to the lad's lips, wincing at the strong smell that comes from it, knowing from personal experience that this particular draught, one designed to knock dwarrows out for hours, sometimes days, for surgical purposes, is particularly foul. Kili retches with the first drops that make it into his throat, so he quickly pours the rest of it into the lad's mouth and presses his hand over the boy's lips to make him swallow.
"I'm sorry, Kili," he murmurs against the boy's temple. "I'm sorry, lad, this will help. This will help make it all better."
It is only a matter of seconds before the draught begins to take effect, and Kili's breathing evens out before he falls limp against the bed for the second time that day.
"What did you do?" Fili nearly shrieks, tears streaming down his cheeks. "What did you do to him?"
Oin gives Thorin a pointed glare. "Out," he demands. "The both of you. Aerona will fetch you when we are done here."
Thorin nods, his expression grim. "We shall be with Dwalin and Balin," he supplies. Fili starts to protest, so Thorin grabs his arm and hauls him away from the room. They make it as far as the front room before Fili wrenches himself free.
"No!" Fili screams as he grabs his arm to pull him away. "I can't leave him, Uncle! Let me go!"
"You'll do no good to him in there," Thorin snaps, wincing when he feels the telltale pinprick of tears behind his eyes, He cannot let Fili see him cry. He cannot let him know how scared he truly is. "We have to leave Oin to his task. He is in good hands, Fili. He will be fine." His voice breaks on the last word, and he feels a damning tear slide down his cheek.
"Uncle," Fili breathes, disbelieving. He reaches a hand up to brush the dampness away from his cheek, but all it does is break the careful dam Thorin has built up around his emotions before he is crying just as hard as Fili is. He grabs his heir and pulls him close, tucking his head under his chin in a way he hasn't done for years.
"I am scared," he admits, his face pressed into the curtain of his nephew's hair. "I am so, so scared, Fili, but we must have faith. Oin will do everything he can for Kili – everything – but we must keep faith that he will pull through." He feels Fili nod against his chest. "It's all we can do, lad."
It is a long while before either of them is able to gather themselves. Thorin manages to first, and he spends a good deal of time scrubbing at his face in an attempt to rid it of the tear tracks that he knows linger there. Fili is slumped exhaustedly against him, and he finally summons up the will power to maneuver them to Dwalin and Balin's nearby home.
"Come, Fili," he urges when the lad is reluctant to leave. "We must wait, and it is better to do that with friends than alone."
He doesn't respond, just numbly follows behind Thorin, and seeing Fili so despondent only unsettles him further. He cannot let him lose Kili. The pain of loosing Frerin is always fresh in his heart, and he never wants Fili to feel that crushing sense of loss, to know that deep grief that never truly fades away.
"What has happened?" Balin asks immediately when he answers the door, he ushers them inside with a concerned glance at Fili. He all but drags the dwarfling to a chair and settles him into it, but still Fili makes no move to respond. "Dwalin told me of the brawl, but…"
"Kili needed surgery," Thorin explains, fatigue evident in his voice. "Oin is working on him now."
Balin furrows his brow, confused. "But why would he…"
"His appendix, he said. It needed to come out."
Balin tuts quietly under his breath. "Well, at least that is a fairly regular procedure for him," he offers. "I'll fetch you some tea. Are you hungry, laddie?" he asks, looking to Fili, who numbly shakes his head.
"Little late for visitors," Dwalin grumbles from the hall before emerging in the front room. He is halfway to smiling when he sees just who their visitors are, but it melts into a concerned from when he takes in just how stricken Thorin looks. His gaze wanders to where Fili is slumped in the armchair, and all of the color drains from his face.
"Thorin?" he asks, a small note of trepidation in his voice.
He walks past his friend, gesturing to the nearby study door before stepping inside. Dwalin follows him, but not before casting another wary glance back at Fili, who continues to stare at nothing.
"I could…we could loose him," he grinds out as soon as he hears the quiet snick of the door falling closed.
Dwalin's head snaps up. "Kili?" he asks, voice laced with concern. "He seemed all right when I visited with him earlier. Little confused and disoriented, but that's just the concussion, yea?"
Thorin shakes his head. "He needed…Oin thinks his appendix may have burst," he murmurs quietly. "His fever was so high, and he's in so much pain, Dwalin. I…" He huffs out a heavy breath. "I fear I've failed him…I can't…I can't loose him." The damned tears start falling again, despite how hard he fights to keep them in. He's not embarrassed to cry in front of Dwalin – they've been friends since they were children, they've seen the other cry countless times before – but he still feels ashamed that he wasn't able to protect the lad, and anger at the ones who have hurt him.
Dwalin's hand wraps around the back of his neck before he presses their foreheads together in a dwarven gesture of comfort. He does not offer any advice, or any words of solace. He knows Thorin well enough to know that they will do no good, that nothing will do him any good other than Kili rambunctiously running about once more. When he finally composes himself well enough to pull away, he is surprised to see the glimmer of unshed tears in the warrior's eyes.
"We've been a right strange family since you took those boys in," he explains, and Thorin has to chuckle lightly at that. He doesn't know if he would have been able to get as far as he had with the boys without Dwalin and Balin's help; they had been with him every step of the way, had helped him more than he could ever repay them for. "I'll kill those lads if anything happens to him."
Thorin sighs. "And I would not stop you," he admits. He hates that he is wishing violence upon children, since there are so, so few dwarflings these days, but Kili is half of his whole world, and there wouldn't be a force on Middle Earth strong enough to stop his wrath.
Dwalin must notice the shadow that falls across his face, for he gently grabs his arm to lead him back into the sitting room. "Come," he murmurs. "Fili shouldn't be left alone, and it does us no good to dwell on dark things. Now is the time to pray, to keep faith in our little lad. Aule knows he's too stubborn to go without a fight."
Thorin gives him a small, grateful smile before heading back out. He flops down on the settee opposite of the two armchairs that Balin and Fili currently occupy, feeling the weariness of the day pressing down on him. Fili seems to perk up at his arrival, and he pulls himself up from the armchair before crawling into Thorin's lap, tucking his head under his uncle's chin in a way he hasn't since he was very small.
The four of them fall into a heavy silence as they wait.
It has been two whole days since Aerona came to fetch them in the middle of the night, explaining that the procedure had gone well and that Kili was resting. Oin had gotten to the appendix just in time, she'd said; had it been left to fester any longer it surely would have burst, and Kili's life would have been in absolute peril.
As it was, Kili still slept, and Thorin found himself becoming more and more anxious with each second that passed as Kili did not wake. There had been instances, rare ones, where patients never woke from the powerful sleeping draught, and their bodies wasted away without food and water until they were no more. He squeezed his eyes shut to will himself away from his negative thoughts; he had stressed to Fili that they must keep faith, and it would do neither of his nephews any good to let himself fall into despair now.
He sighs as he strokes a hand along Kili's blessedly cool brow. "Come on now, little one," he whispers quietly, not wanting to wake Fili, as he had fallen asleep in the chair at his brother's bedside, clutching his little brother's hand. "I'm starting to miss your prattling on about nonsense."
He lets his eyes rove over the boy's too-pale face, frowning at how the bruises have darkened to a sickening purple-black, with some of them yellowing at the edges. He knows he has failed him, knows how disappointed Dis would be in him. He is supposed to be their protector; they're just boys, barely a quarter of the way to their majority, no matter how much he lets himself think otherwise. Fili acts with an air of maturity, and Kili is as insightful as any dwarrow he has known, but that does not mean they are grown. Kili, who barely reaches his waist, and Fili, who is all awkward long limbs in his adolescence. They are but boys – his boys, but still boys nonetheless.
His heart twists in his chest. He longs for Erebor, longs to reclaim their homeland, but he cannot bring the lads until they are grown, and he doubts he would be able to leave them behind. He sighs again as he lets his hand card through the lad's hair, fingers running over the small braids Fili had crafted just hours earlier. It's no use fretting over Erebor now, not with the dragon still rampaging about.
Kili's brow furrows as he lets out the tiniest whimper, and Thorin's heart stops.
"Kili?" he murmurs, thumb brushing along his less-bruised cheek. The lad whines again as his eyelids flicker. "Fili," he calls. His eldest nephew just grunts from his chair, eyes staying firmly shut. "Fili!" he shouts again, just as Kili's eyes blink open, before quickly falling shut as he cries out once more.
"What, Uncle?" Fili grumbles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Kili squeezes at his hand, and he leaps to his feet. "Kili!" he calls out, relief and happiness evident in his voice.
"I need you to fetch Oin for me, lad," Thorin explains quietly, attention focused on Kili's waking form. Fili nods and pulls his hand free from his brother's and immediately blots for the door.
Kili whines and reaches back for him, but he is already gone. "Fee," he rasps out, his voice a pitiful wreck.
"He'll be right back, dear heart," he whispers as he gently pulls the lad up into a sitting position, mindful of the broken arm strapped to his chest and the stiches in his abdomen.
"Stop," Kili mumbles, trying to push at him with his free hand. "Hurts."
"Shhh, lad, it's all right," he soothes as he props the pillows up behind the lad. "Mister Oin will be here, quick as he can." He frowns at the tears clinging to Kili's lashes as he blinks his eyes open. "My boy," he murmurs as he presses a kiss to his forehead. "I'm sorry, Kili."
"You're awake, you're awake!" Oin calls out cheerfully once he enters the room. "Gave us a right good scare, laddie. It is good to see you up."
"Doesn't feel good," he mutters as he sinks back against his pillows. Fili crawls up onto the bed beside Thorin, nearly in his lap as he tries to get closer to his brother.
Oin chuckles lightly as he brings a mug of lukewarm tea to Kili's lips. "I suppose it doesn't," he agrees. "Slowly lad, I'm sure you're parched, but if you drink too much you'll be sick."
Thorin wraps an arm around Fili when he notices the happy smile tugging at his heir's lips. Kili is awake, grumpy and sore and tired, but awake and talking and alive, and he can't help the indescribable joy he feels at the thought. It is a small task to keep Fili occupied while Oin checks Kili out with poking and prodding fingers, as he fidgets and tries to get closer to Kili every time the lad lets out a sound of pain, but soon enough Oin is flashing them a warm smile.
"Now then, Thorin," he addresses as he stands and Fili all but clambers over him to Kili's side. "Keep having him drink the tea, bit by bit. I've put some herbs in that should help with the pain, but shouldn't make him sick. Aerona's made some broth for him, when he feels up to eating, but keep it slow." He smiles again. "He'll be just fine in a few weeks, my friend, don't you worry."
Thorin knows he has a dopey smile on his face as he grabs the healer and pulls him into an embrace, but he can't be bothered to care. "Thank you, Oin," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "I will never be able to repay you for this kindness."
Oin sighs. "Thorin, you gave us a new home after Erebor fell," he replies lightly. "It is I who should repay you."
He doesn't quite know what to say to that, so he releases the healer and watches as he leaves their family in private.
Kili's eyes are wide and fearful as he watches Oin work. He winces as the healer removes the bandages and splint from his tender arm, lets out a soft cry of pain that has Fili grabbing his free hand and murmuring soft words of encouragement. Oin had decided that the wound from where his bone had broken through the skin has healed enough to plaster the arm. He works quietly, placing a thick bandage across the still healing cut before reaching for the bandages soaking in the plaster.
"What's that for?" Kili asks, eyes flickering behind him to look at his uncle. He's seated in Thorin's lap, the elder dwarf's arms wrapped loosely around his middle. "Will that hurt?" he asks as he turns his gaze to Oin.
"Not a bit," Oin says with a smile. "Though I'll need your uncle to hold your arm up and very, very still. If anything hurts, it'll be that."
Kili swallows audibly as Thorin obediently lifts the injured arm. It's quite bruised and rather swollen, still, but if Oin think it is time for plaster, then it must be time for plaster. Fili strokes his thumb along the back of his hand.
"Relax, Kee," he murmurs. "It'll be fine." Kili sucks in a deep breath and nods, but when he blinks a few tears slide down his cheeks, that Fili immediately wipes away.
Oin is true to his word, and he works quickly to wrap the plastered bandages around the wound, never once jostling the lad's arm or causing him pain. Thorin holds his arm steady as the plaster dries, and Kili finally relaxes back against his uncle's chest.
"Not so bad, was it?" Thorin murmurs in his ear once Oin declares the plaster to be dry, and he sets the lad's arm back down on his lap before pressing a kiss to the lad's less-bruised cheek.
"And the plaster will keep your arm still much better than the split would have," Oin explains. "Though you must be very careful not to move it more than you have to."
Kili nods obediently as he eyes the cast warily. "I won't," he promises.
"Come on then, Fili," Dwalin calls from where he stood leaned against the doorframe. "Your brother is just fine; it's back to the forge with you."
Fili frowns, but he pulls himself up from the chair anyway. "I'll be back soon, Kee," he whispers before ruffling the lad's hair and trotting off after Dwalin. Oin also politely excuses himself, shutting the door tightly behind him as he leaves.
Kili shifts against his chest, curls back up against him, while being mindful of his arm and the stiches in his abdomen. Thorin gently runs a hand through his hair; pulls loose the knots that have tangled in it. "M'tired, Da," he murmurs softly, and Thorin's heart is immediately in his throat.
He shift the lad gently, turns him around so he is facing him, before cupping his face and running a thumb along his cheekbone as he tips the lad's face up to look at him. "Kili," he murmurs. "Sweet little Kili. I'm not your Da."
Kili frowns at him. "But you take care of me," he explains. "You act like a Da, to me and to Fee."
"But you had a Da," he explains. "And your Da was brave, and loyal, and he loved you, Kili. Even when you were but a babe in your mother's stomach, he loved you."
"But I don't know him!" he whines, frustrated. "I know you. I want you to be my Da."
Thorin sighs as he uses him thumb to brush away the tears that have started. "I can't be your Da," he murmurs. "I can't replace him."
Kili draws in a shuddering breath. "You don't want to be my Da," he mumbles despondently.
Thorin draws him close, wraps his arms around him and strokes his back gently. "I do, Kili," he whispers against his hair. "I love you, so much, dear heart. You know that I do."
"Then why can't you just be my Da?" he whimpers. Thorin's heart breaks at the sound of the lad's tears, and he presses a tender kiss to the crown of the lad's head.
"Because you've already got one," he explains. "You've a wonderful Da, and he is waiting for you. Do you remember what we talked about? About what happens when dwarrows are called away?" Kili nods against his chest as he sniffles quietly. "Your Da has been waiting for you, and he watches over you even now. You will meet him one day; you will know him one day. I promise."
Kili nods again, his sobs dissolving into soft hiccups. "It's not fair," he whimpers quietly. "Fili got to know Da and I didn't."
Thorin tightens his arms around him, not enough to hurt him, but enough to comfort him. "I know. I know it's not fair, but trust me when I tell you that your Da loved you so very much, Kili." He presses another kiss to the lad's curls. "I have loved you and raised you from the moment you were born, but I am still just your uncle. I will always be your uncle."
Kili stays quiet for a while, good hand kneading the fabric of his tunic between his fingers. For a moment he thinks the lad has fallen asleep, when Kili murmurs, "I love you, Uncle."
The lad's breathing evens out in sleep, but still Thorin holds him.
He frowns as Balin finally ushers him out of the house. He hates being scolded, especially when it really wasn't his fault that ancient Dwarven history was so boring in the first place. At least Uncle made things interesting in his stories.
He frowns when he sees Clach and his idiot friends duck into the alleyway that leads to the marketplace. It's the way that he and Ori usually take after their lessons when they plan to go and see Bofur or to watch Fili's sparring lessons. His heart sinks when he realizes that they must be trying to corner his friend, so he breaks into a run to follow after them.
Sure enough, they have Ori slammed up against the wall. He gets there just in time to see Clavin shove his fist into Ori's face, and he grabs the older dwarf to pull him off, wincing when Ori slumps to the ground.
He dodges the first punch easily enough; he is smaller than Clavin and can use that to his advantage. He should have, however, considered the fact that there were four of them and only one of him, he realizes as Baeddan grabs him from behind and pins his arms to his sides.
"You little shit," Clach snarls. "You stupid little waste of space."
"Your dear brother isn't here to save you this time," Mogue grumbles. "Is he, little elfling?"
Kili (unwisely) responds by spitting in his face, and all hell breaks loose.
Mogue punches him a number of times before Baeddan tosses him down to the ground. His vision is swimming wildly, and everything hurts. Someone's foot connects with his face, and he curls into himself, draws his arms up to his face to protect it. The kicks keep coming, hard and fast and from all directions. He was stupid, so, so stupid to follow after them alone. He should have grabbed Balin, should have grabbed anyone instead of chasing after them on his own. He'd just wanted to protect Ori. Ori, who was always kind to him and sparred with him and listened to his stupid stories.
Someone kicks at his face, hard, and he screams in pain as he hears and sees the bone in his arm snap. His vision whites out from the pain, he goes numb all over for just a second. When he comes back to himself, they are still kicking him, and he's suddenly aware of the fact that he's screaming and begging for them to stop.
He's going to die; he knows it. Those boys are going to kill him, and Fili is at the forge with Dwalin, and Thorin is meeting with the governor, and Ori is passed out on the ground. There is no one who can come and save him; not this time
Suddenly, the kicks stop, and through his hazy vision he sees four pairs of feet scrambling away. Someone reaches for his head, but he lurches back as soon as the fingers brush against his scalp, crying out in pain as his body twists painfully. Everything hurts, everything, and he just wants it to stop.
"Oh, laddie," someone murmurs soothingly from above him. He can't tell who it is, but he knows that voice, knows that they are a safe person, and he lets himself relax just slightly. "Come on, come on, Kili. Let's get you up."
He's pulled into familiar arms before everything goes black.
He screams when he wakes, and Fili is there in an instant, smoothing sweat-soaked fringe away from his forehead.
"Shhh, Kili," he murmurs softly as he pulls his brother against his chest. "It's alright, Kee; you're safe. No one can hurt you here." Kili struggles against him weakly before relaxing against him with a shuddering sob.
Fili hates this. He struggles to will down the rage he feels, tries to remember his uncle's words from a few days ago. He wants so badly to find those wretched boys and throttle them until they can't speak ever again. He wants to give them twenty bruises for every one that mars Kili's skin. His brother is too young, too young to know this kind of pain, and he is too young to feel this much anger.
"You are so brave, little brother," he soothes as he cards a hand through his brother's dark curls. "So very brave. Ori told me everything."
Kili shakes his head. "I was stupid," he grumbles as he presses his face against Fili's neck and winds his arms around him.
"Reckless, yes," he agrees. "You shouldn't have tried to take them on alone."
"Stupid," Kili whines pitifully. "I spit in Mogue's face!" He shudders slightly, remembering, and his brother squeezes him tighter.
Fili barely covers his shocked laugh with a cough. "You what?" Ori had been a little light on the details, with his concussion and all, and he hadn't realized that his brother had goaded his attackers on. "Oh, I would have loved to see his face."
"He was mad," Kili grumbles as he curls in tighter to his brother. "It was scary," he admits quietly.
"I know," he soothes gently. "I know it was. I'm sorry for laughing." He understands now that he's underestimated how distraught his brother really is.
"I thought I was going to die," he whispers, and Fili feels the wetness of his tears against his neck. "I was so scared."
He rubs soothing patterns along the boy's back as he presses a kiss against his hair. "It's okay, Kee," he murmurs, hoping he sounds reassuring. "You're safe now. Uncle and I won't let you out of our sights ever again, if we can help it."
Kili nods against his neck, good hand seeking out his own to squeeze it tight.
"I promise, Kee," he murmurs. "No one will ever hurt you like this again."
"This is very, very troubling," Nar murmurs softly. "Very troubling indeed." Thorin shifts anxiously from one foot to another, regarding the elder dwarf critically. Nar had come with them from Erebor, had been a young, eager advisor to his grandfather before the dragon came. He had shown unwavering bravery and loyalty to the line of Durin, and Thror had rewarded him with the Governorship of the town they had carved into the side of the mountain before their ill-fated trip to Moria.
For their parts, the four lads charged with assaulting his nephew look positively terrified. Clach and Clavin are sporting matching bruises on their cheeks, their father standing forebodingly behind them, gripping their shoulders with a white-knuckled grip. Baeddan keeps his eyes on the floor, his mother teary-eyed behind him. Mogue stands with his grandfather, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously. It brings Thorin a small level of comfort to see that they are ashamed of their actions (or that they are at least dreading their punishments) but he will still see justice for Kili and Ori.
Dori sits to his right, wringing his hands nervously, and Dwalin is to his left. Bifur and Bofur sit beyond the warrior, and Nori lingers near the door, his gaze practically murderous as he watches the boys squirm.
"You lads assaulted two innocent boys," Nar continues. "You nearly killed one of them, and for what? Entertainment?"
"We didn't mean…" Clach starts.
"Shut it," Dwalin growls from his left, and Bofur smirks from beyond him. Thorin feels a great deal of gratitude for his friends, both of whom are quite fond of and protective over Kili.
"Boys have been executed for lesser crimes before," Nar says as he fixes each of the lad's with a stern glare. "You are fortunate that we dwarrows have fallen on such hard times. The fact that dwarflings are rare is the only thing saving you from that fate."
The color drains from each of the lad's faces, and it is evident that, in their youth, they hadn't fully thought through the consequences of their actions. Baeddan's mother starts to sob openly, and for a second he feels sorry for her, before he remembers Kili's pale, bruised, bloody face. She should have taught he son better, single mother or no. Thorin had raised his boys on his own, and they had enough sense not to bully and tease.
"As it is, I will give you a choice," Nar rumbles on. "In either case, should you ever lay a hand on either of those lads again, I will not hesitate to see you executed, children or not." Dwalin murmurs appreciatively beside him, a small smirk gracing his lips. "You can either serve thirty years of hard labor in the mines – that means everyday, from sun up to sun down, for thirty years, mind you – or you can leave this town and never return. The mines or exile, lads; those are your choices."
Dwalin flashes him a smile. Thirty years in the mine is a hefty sentence. Forced laborers work constantly, with no breaks, and often fall ill or become injured and mangled before their sentences are up. For young lads, it is almost assuredly a death sentence.
"It's the mines for these two," Clach and Clavin's father declares; gaze stern and unwavering as both lads turn pleading eyes on him.
"Da, please," Clavin pleads. But his father simply shakes his head.
"You've three sisters and your mum here, not to mention myself. You're mad if you think I'll uproot the lot of us because of your stupidity," he growls, and the boys fall silent again. "It's high time you face the consequences of your actions, boys. Thorin has done great things for our people, and this is how you repay him? By nearly murdering his boy?"
The two fall silent again as they flush with shame. Thorin feels a small smile tugging at his mouth; it brings him great comfort to hear that their father is still on his side.
Baeddan turns from where he had been discussing things with his mother, who is still sobbing. "We'll leave," he says quietly, rubbing a hand against his mother's shoulder. "I'm sorry, mum," he whispers.
"We will also leave," Mogue's grandfather says before he turns his eyes to Thorin. "I'm glad the lad's are alright. I'm sorry for what this one has done to them. He knows better." Mogue's face turns back to the ground.
"Very well then," Nar murmurs as he writes the results of their tribunal into his. "The prospector will be round to fetch you lads in three days time," he says as he gestures to Clach and Clavin. "I expect the rest of you to be gone before the week is out." He slams his gavel down on the table, signaling that they are finished here, and Thorin sags in relief.
Dwalin claps him on the shoulder. "See, my friend? I told you they would have justice for the lads. You forget how many allies you have," he adds thoughtfully.
"Shall we fetch the lads and tell them the good news?" Bofur asks. "Bombur made miniature pies to celebrate with!"
Thorin nods and they all file out, returning to the House of Healing with warm smiles.
It is a week after Kili has woken that Oin declares the lad healed enough to go home. Thorin is positively elated at the news – he is not fond of sleeping in the old armchair by Kili's bed – and he knows that coming home is an important step in the lad's recovery. Kili has not been himself since the attack, not that he should be. He's taken to brooding, and the darkness is his eyes have not escaped Thorin's notice. Fili had told him about how scared Kili had been, about the nightmares, and it felt like a stab to his heart to learn just how much of the lad's innocence had been sheered away.
But, he hoped, getting Kili home would help him get back to normal, and Thorin was anxious to have his sweet, loving Kili back as soon as possible.
It is a small affair to bring him home. Bofur arrives with a few toys, crafted by himself and Bifur, including a bird with a crank that makes its wings flap that leaves Kili mesmerized. Ori spends a good chunk of the day drawing designs on Kili's cast, stating simply that he'd wanted Kili to have something nice to look at when he was in such pain because of him. Dwalin arrives just as they're ready to leave, to escort the family home, and to shield Kili from prying eyes.
"Do you want me to carry you?" Thorin asks as they stand in the front room of the House of Healing. Kili chews on his bottom lip for a moment before shaking his head.
"I can walk, I think," he murmurs quietly, and Thorin can tell that he's wary of stepping outside.
He squats down to be level with his youngest nephew. "Those boys will not hurt you again, Kili."
The lad is shaking slightly when he replies. "How do you know?"
"I won't let them," he answers simply enough. "And I doubt they would risk death just to tease you once more."
Kili nods, but he can still see the anxiety in his face. "I want to go home," he murmurs, just as a glimmer of tears falls over his eyes.
Dwalin holds the door for them as they leave. It is dusk, and the marketplace is largely empty, but Kili latches on to Thorin's hand, stays pressed close to his uncle's side the entire way. Dwalin walks in front of them, and Fili stays close behind his brother. Kili stumbles a few times as he walks, having spent so long in bed, so Fili places a comforting hand on the small of his back to keep him steady. Nori passes them as they walk, and he flashes them an uncharacteristically warm smile as he does.
They are nearly home when Kili does truly trip and stumble. He instinctively reaches out his broken arm to break his fall, his good hand still clasped in Thorin's, but Fili grasps him from behind before he can hit the ground. Thorin immediately scoops him into his arms, and he buries his face against his uncle's neck. Thorin feels the wetness of tears, hears the shaking, shuddering sob that escapes his lips.
"That was good, Kili," he soothes, bringing a hand up to card through the lad's hair. "You made it so far, after not walking for so long."
Kili wraps his good hand around Thorin's braid but says nothing.
When they make it into their home, he fully intends to deposit Kili into his own bed to sleep for the night, but the lad is shaking in his arms, and he's not keen on letting him go anytime soon. He toes off his boots before sitting in his well-worn armchair, Kili situated on his lap. Fili sets about removing his brother's boots before taking off his own.
"Can I…?" he murmurs as he gestures to his uncle's lap. He knows his legs will be numb and sore in the morning, but he can't really refuse Fili anything, not when it comes to his little brother.
"Come on then," he murmurs and Fili carefully situates himself on his lap, his hands immediately going to brush Kili's hair from his face. Kili is still shaking, whether from exertion or fear or pain, he really isn't sure. He focuses on whispering quiet words of support and endearment against his temple until the tremors stop, and his breathing evens out and he relaxes against his chest.
When Dwalin steps back in to stoke the fire to life, Kili and Fili are sound asleep, nestled against either side of him. His old friend flashes him a knowing smirk once he settles down in their other armchair.
"He'll be alright, you know," he murmurs after a while of companionable silence. "Especially with those lads being punished the way they are."
"I know," he agrees quietly, pressing a kiss to Kili's forehead when the lad whimpers in his sleep.
They lapse into silence once more, until Dwalin clears his throat. He glances over at his friend with a brow raised.
"Balin's worried about you," he comments idly, and Thorin's brow furrows in confusion. "Fili will start his training as a prince soon, on his thirtieth. He'll learn about the oath, about everything that's expected of him. Of both of them."
Thorin's hand stills where it had been drawing patterns along Kili's back. "I'll not let him take the oath," he murmurs quietly.
"If we leave to take back Erebor, you won't have much of a choice," his friend points out. "You're too attached, Thorin. You coddle them too much. You know what Kili is, what he will be expected to do if we leave take this journey."
"Kili won't be coming with us," he whispers. "And if he doesn't come with us, there's no need for him to take the oath."
"What if he tries to?" Dwalin counters. "I know you love him, Thorin. I know you think of him as your son, but you cannot shelter him from everything. He is the spare; no amount of your love will ever change that."
"I know," he replies quietly, arm subconsciously tightening around his youngest nephew. "I will not let him suffer the same fate as Frerin," he murmurs a moment later. "Frerin died because of me. I won't…I can't let that happen to Kili. Not to Kili."
Dwalin sighed. "You have to let him grown up some time."
"I will," Thorin huffs out quietly. "When he's of age. But he is a child, Dwalin," he stresses. "A child under my care, and I will protect him as I see fit."
"I didn't mean any offense," he placates softly. "Balin will, but I don't. He will come to talk to you about it soon, I reckon."
He sighs again, feels the annoying prickle of tears behind his eyes. Kili stirs against him, hand fisting and unclenching in his hair. "Uncle," he sighs out.
"Shhh," he soothes as he presses his cheek against the crown of the lad's head. "Sleep, Kili. You're safe."
"It's not so bad being a spare," Dwalin comments a moment later. "I took my oath before I came of age, and I turned out fine."
"But he's not like you," Thorin almost snaps. "He's like Frerin. Reckless, and headstrong, loves too deeply. He'd throw himself on a sword meant for Fili without a second thought, without looking for a different solution."
"I'll train him myself, Thorin," Dwalin adds. "And you know I'd train him well."
"Please, Dwalin," he stammers out. "I don't want to talk about this. Not now. Not when I've just got him home and safe."
His old friend nods. "You're right. I shouldn't have…" he sighs. "I'm sorry, Thorin, It's not my place."
They lapse into a comfortable silence, until Thorin eventually takes a cue from his nephews and falls asleep. Dwalin sees himself out.
Three days later, Kili is almost back to his normal self. He is still more cautious than Thorin is used to, keeps his broken arm cradled to his chest when he moves, but he is back to following his brother everywhere he goes, back to running about the marketplace with Ori after their lessons with Balin. Dwalin even lets him attend his sparring lessons, though Kili is unhappy about simply watching from the sidelines.
"Come on, Kee!" Fili calls from the door. "Mister Dwalin wanted me at the forge an hour ago!"
"Coming!" Kili calls from the direction of their bedroom, and Thorin smiles softly at the sound of little feet running through the hallway. A second later, the door to his study creeps open, and Kili pokes his head in.
"What is it, little one?" he asks as he sets the scroll he was reading down.
Kili flashes him a brilliant smile and rushes to him; he climbs into his lap (though Thorin has to assist him with his broken arm) and wraps both arms around his neck. He is a little surprised at the sudden display of affection, more so when Kili pulls back and presses a kiss against his cheek before hopping back onto his feet.
"Love you, Uncle," he says softly, before running back out the door to follow his brother to the forge.
Thorin wears a stupid grin for the rest of the afternoon.
Wooo, monster chapters! I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading!