AN – Hello, sweetings! Shit's about to get real. This is Part 1 of 3 for this age. The events in these three chapters were what originally inspired me to write this series, so hopefully the updates will come pretty quickly! As always, thank you so much for reading and commenting and liking and all that you do. You are all amazing, and I love you.

I still own nothing. Enjoy!

Warnings: Potty words, Fili is an idiot, Kili is clueless, I use potty words, little bit of violence, and un-beta-ed because all three of my betas have dropped off the face of the planet, and my muses are getting OUT OF CONTROL.

Greater than Gold
Chapter 10: Thirty-Four and Twenty-Eight
By Displaced Hobbit

As they stand at the gate to what will soon protect the Great Halls (Thorin's Halls, as Nar insists upon calling them), he is filled with a swell of pride. It isn't Erebor, it isn't near as grand or extravagant as they are wont to have, but it will be a home for his people; a permanent, proper home for them to call their own after so many years of exile.

Kili presses closer to his side, wary gaze fixed on the darkness that lies beyond the gate. He knows the lad is apprehensive about being so far underground, so he slides an arm around his shoulders and squeezes gently.

"Come, lads. I wish to show you these halls; they will be your home soon enough." Fili smiles brightly as he hands him a torch, clearly excited to finally get to tour the halls. Construction has been on going, and while only the main halls are finished, and very, very few of the residences have begun construction, he is eager to show his boys what they may inherit.

He has to tug at Kili just a bit to urge him inside the cavern. "You'll get used to it, lad," he soothes. The boy looks absolutely not convinced, but he obediently follows behind his uncle.

"Can it collapse?" he asks, and Thorin frowns to see Fili pull his hand away as his younger brother reaches for it. There's been something going on between the two of them for months now, and he hasn't yet been able to figure it out.

"No, it cannot," he replies.

"But the mines…" Kili insists as they step into the pressing darkness, guided only by the torches that Thorin and Fili carry. "And Da."

Fili answers for him. "That's different, Kee," he murmurs. "The mines follow the veins of gold and mithril in the mountain. Sometimes they lead to a weak spot in the stone, and that can make the cavern collapse."

"When they build halls like these, they clear all of those weak spots," he elaborates, pointing up to the ceiling at a slightly misshapen alcove. "The deeper into the mountain you go, the sturdier the rock is. That's why we build the halls so deep in the mountain."

"Oh," he murmurs into the darkness, hands nervously twisting at the hem of his tunic. Thorin sighs, reaches back and grabs the lad's hand. He glances to Fili's face; frown deepening as he notices him pointedly looking away. He makes a mental note to corner his heir and make him explain what has been going on between the pair.

"You're quite safe in here, lad" he soothes. "Safe from intruders, safe from the elements…it is a much better situation for our people."

Kili nods but presses closer to his side. "It's so dark," he observes.

"Will we have to burn fires all the time to keep it lit?" Fili questions.

Thorin shakes his head as they press deeper into the mountain. "No. When the halls are closer to being finished, they will install a series of mirrors that will pull sunlight into the mountain."

"Mirrors?" both lads ask at the same time.

"We can use them to reflect the sunlight down into the mountain," he elaborates. "You'd have a mirror in each of your rooms and could adjust how bright or dark you want it." He smiles slightly. "It's quite nice, really; almost looks like you're outside."

The boys lapse back into silence as Thorin leads them through the halls, gesturing to different rooms and explaining their purpose. Eventually, the pathway they are following dead ends into the stone face of the mountain. Thorin smiles slightly and presses a hand against the stone.

"Feel this lads," he calls. Fili immediately presses his palm flat against the stone, smile tugging at his lips as his eyes widen in wonder. Kili requires a bit of coaxing, and yanks his hand back as soon his fingers graze the stone.

"What is that?" he asks, cradling his hand against his chest as though it's been burnt.

"The heart of the mountain," he murmurs. "When you get deep enough, you can feel it."

"It's like the mountain is alive," Fili breathes, excitement clear in his voice.

Thorin pats a hand on his shoulder. "Soon your rooms will be carved into this very spot. This will be your home, lads."

Fili's smile falters a bit. "It's so deep though."

"Will we have to stay underground all the time?" Kili asks.

Thorin's elation at showing the lads the halls falters somewhat. "Well, no. I suppose you could spend your days outside, so long as you do not have any duties to attend to."

They both visibly relax; Kili even sags slightly against his side. He feels disappointed that they are not as excited as he is, but he understands that this, living underground, while completely natural to him, is something that his boys have never encountered.

"You would grow used to it," he murmurs again as he rubs Kili's shoulder comfortingly. "Come then. Balin will be cross if I keep you from getting to your lessons on time."

As he silently leads them from the halls, he can't help but feel as though something has been lost that he simply cannot get back.

"Kili would you just stop!" Fili shouts, exasperated beyond belief as he slams his palm down to the table. "Just shut up!"

Kili freezes from across the table, where he had been diligently chopping up the vegetables and meats for their evening's stew and describing his shooting practice with Dwalin in great detail. Fili curses himself at the hurt look that flashes across his brother's features.

He has to do this. He has a plan and it will keep Kili safe and he will see it done, no matter how much it hurts. He bites his lip to stop the apology he can feel welling up in his throat. 'It's for his own good,' he reminds himself yet again.

"Sorry," Kili murmurs, eyes downcast as he returns to his chore. Fili focuses very hard on the notes Balin had given him that morning, wills himself to commit the facts about Durin the Deathless to memory. He was to be quizzed on the information tomorrow, and he needed to know it.

Somehow, the uncharacteristic silence from his brother distracts him more than his prattling about his training. He only lasts a few minutes longer before he flees the kitchen for the relative safety of their shared bedroom.

He has to do this.

"Fee's mad at me again," Kili complains as he and Ori head back to the marketplace from their lessons.

Ori frowns at him. "What makes you think that?"

He sighs. "He just…I dunno. I bother him all the time, I guess. He doesn't act like he wants me around anymore."

"Brothers just do that sometimes," his friend murmurs. "Nori acts like that to me all the time. Gets into his own foul moods and acts a right terror to everyone."

"But he's thirty years older than you; that makes sense. You're not close with him like me and Fee are." He groans. "Fili is only five years older and he acts like he's grown and I'm just a baby."

Ori shrugs. "Maybe he's under a lot of pressure from Mister Balin? He's started to get a lot more training on being Thorin's heir, hasn't he?"

"Yea," Kili confirms, scuffing his boots as he walks. "I guess that's all. It just that…sometimes…"

"Sometimes what?" Ori questions as he grabs Kili's shoulder and stops their walking. "Kili?"

"I just think he hates me sometimes," he murmurs. He shakes his head and shrugs. "You're probably right though."

"If he stressed then maybe you could get him something nice to cheer him up?" Ori suggests. "Or make him a new dagger or something?"

"I'm no good at smithing; you know that," Kili murmurs, almost bitterly. "Though I could probably carve something for him."

"I'll bet Thorin would make the blade for you if you asked him to," Ori supplies. "He'd probably even help you make it, if you wanted to."

Kili bites his lip for a moment, thinking. It would be a nice gift, and surely something to pull his brother out of whatever foul mood had seized him for months on end. He could make one that would fit just inside his bracers, could carve the hilt himself, maybe even do some etchings on the blade to make it an even grander gift.

Smiling brightly at his friend, he nods. "I think that's a perfect idea, Ori!"

"Uncle?" Kili calls out over the din of the forge. He knows he needs to be as sneaky as possible if he wants to keep his surprise intact, especially knowing that Fili is working with Dwalin just a few feet away. "Can I speak with you outside?"

Thorin casts him a confused glance as he wipes his brow, but nods and sets his work aside for the moment.

"Does something trouble you, Kili?" he asks as soon as the door swings shut behind him.

He shakes his head. "I was hoping you'd help me make something, if you weren't too busy," he says, fidgeting with his hands slightly. He pulls a piece of parchment from his pocket and shows his uncle the tentative plans he has made for the dagger.

Thorin raises an eyebrow at him. "And is this for someone in particular?" he asks. "You're a bit young for courting gifts, aren't you?" he jests, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Courting…?" Kili wrinkles his nose in disgust. "What? No! I wanted to make it for Fee!"

Thorin laughs lightly. "I was only teasing you, lad," he murmurs. "For your brother, then. Why? His birthday was not two months ago."

"I know," Kili concedes. "But he's been in a bad mood lately. I think he is stressed about whatever he is learning from Mister Balin." The lad frowns just the slightest bit. "I just want to give him something that will cheer him up is all."

His uncle looks very thoughtful for a moment, before he nods and moves to head back inside. "Grab an apron, lad. This shouldn't take more than the afternoon to complete."

"Fili?" he calls into the sitting room. "Could you come here for a moment, please?" He hears the sound of a book closing and feet dragging across the cold stone floor.

"Yes, Uncle?" his heir responds as he pokes his head through the door. He looks tired, frazzled and worn. Balin had not mention anything about him struggling in his studies, and Dwalin was still singing the lad's praises in his weapons and forge training, but it was still very evident that there was something troubling his eldest sister-son.

"Come in, lad," he murmurs. "Sit," he adds, gesturing to one of the two large armchairs that sit opposite of his desk. The desk is strewn with papers and maps and letters, and he means to clean it up, but he has just been so busy. He'd barely had any time to spend with his nephews, had barely even noticed the rising tension between them.

Fili picks at the hem of his tunic, his eyes downcast, and says nothing.

"You seem troubled, lad," he observes.

Fili just sighs and sinks farther into the cushion.

Thorin frowns. "Tell me," he urges.

"There's just…" the lad mumbles, hesitating. "There's a lot to learn. Some things I don't like to know about. I don't…" His voice trails off and he makes no move to continue, but Thorin still allows him the time to gather his thoughts.

He knows it is unlike Fili to be so distant. Even if he isn't voicing his troubles to Thorin, he's always sharing them with Kili. The fact that his youngest sister-son was just as clueless to his behavior as of late only unsettled him further. Fili was acting like him, brooding and shutting everyone else out, and he knew from a great deal of experience how unhealthy that was.

"Sometimes I just wish I wasn't your heir, I guess," he finally mumbles, his eyes still downcast and his shoulders hunched, clearly ashamed with his admission.

To Thorin, it feels like a punch to the gut. He doesn't know quite what to say. Yes, it could be a burden to be a crown prince, but one day he would be king, would be loved by all of his kin and respected by all others in Middle Earth. Only…there was no kingdom for him to rule. There were no subjects who adored and respected him. He was a prince in name only, had never experienced any of the luxuries that came with his title. He had instead been only burdened with the hard knowledge, the impossible expectations that he struggled to live up to.

Thorin wondered just how much pressure Fili was putting on himself, how much pressure he'd let the lad put on himself without helping him through it.

"Are you disappointed in me?" he asks quietly, chancing a glance up at his uncle through his fringe.

"Of course not," he murmurs, honesty clear in his voice. "I hadn't thought…I hadn't considered how hard this must be for you, my boy. I'm sorry."

Fili's head snaps up; he's clearly surprised by his uncle's understanding.

"It is easy for me to forget that you are being trained to rule a kingdom that doesn't exist right now, that you're learning the laws and customs of a people long forgotten." He sighs, gnaws at his bottom lip for a moment. "Perhaps we should lighten on your training a bit?"

The lad ardently shakes his head. "It's not that," he interjects. "If we go back to Erebor soon then I want to know; I don't want to have to play catch up." He sighs and fidgets with the hem of his tunic. "It's…I can handle it, Uncle. You don't need to worry about me."

Thorin frowns. "You wouldn't fall too far behind in a few weeks," he reasons. "And it would be nice to have your help around the forge."

"I can handle this, Uncle," Fili tries again. "I won't let you down. I don't need to stop my training."

"I have no doubts that you can manage this, Fili," he murmurs soothingly. "But there is not a thing wrong with taking a break, with asking for help."

Fili clearly looks put out by this new information.

"I'll inform Balin in the morning," he affirms just as Fili starts to protest once more. "It will be good for you, lad. Even your brother is starting to worry for you."

Fili's mouth snaps shut at that comment. He murmurs something under his breath that Thorin doesn't catch, but he doesn't question it. The lad thanks him quietly as he leaves, but Thorin can't manage to shake the feeling that something is still decidedly off with his heir.

If he is honest with himself (and sometimes he is not), he has enjoyed his past week off from Balin's lessons. He's still been allowed to spar with Dwalin and Gloin when they have the time, and he's had a lot of work to do at the forge, but he has immensely enjoyed the copious amount of free time he's found himself saddled with. It has lightened his heart, quite a bit, really.

It helps that, though he has been given a respite from his lessons, Kili has not (something his brother has pouted about on more than one occasion thus far). The only times he has seen his brother has been for meal times and to sleep. It gives him plenty of time to think, gives him time to figure out the next stages of his plan.

He's mostly done with the first part. Kili is becoming more and more distant from him each day. It had started as soon as he'd requested the separate beds from their uncle just after his thirtieth. Oh, the look of betrayal in Kili's eyes had stung, but he had to do this.

Balin was right; they were too close, and Kili loved far too deeply for his own good.

It was little things after that – refusing to hold his hand if he was scared, pushing him from his bed if Kili crawled in after a nightmare, acting disinterested in the stories Kili would tell – little things that he could see building and building in his brother. But it wasn't enough. Kili still reached for him, still crawled into his bed when he was scared, still tried. He needed to do something more.

If he were to truly make Kili hate him, he'd have to do something much, much more. He just doesn't know what it will take.

"Fee!" his brother calls out as soon as he bursts back into their home. He is obviously excited; his entire form is positively vibrating with energy. He is covered in a fine layer of soot a smells distinctively of hot metal. He must have made something half-decent at the forge, finally.

He steels himself. He has to do this. It's for Kili's own good.

"Look, Fee!" he exclaims once he's rounded the chair he is sprawled in, something small and wrapped in cloth in his hands.

Without thinking of his plan, he obediently takes the object from Kili and pulls the cloth back. The dagger that sits inside is very well made, if he's honest with himself (but he's not, most of the time anyhow). It is lightweight but feels sturdy enough, slender as it may be. The blade itself has light etchings carved along it, for allowing blood to flow easily off the blade as well as for decoration. The hilt is made of oak, carved to look like the very tree the wood has come from and polished so that it is nearly as gleaming as the blade itself.

"Did you make this?" he asks as he turns the blade over in his hands to inspect it further.

Kili nods, smile brighter than the sun on his face. "I made it for you. See?" he points to the bottom of the hilt where, sure enough, among the grooves and patterns of tree bark, Fili's sigil is carved into it. He feels a lump lodge itself in his throat. It's the finest thing Kili has ever made, and he'd made it for him.

"I know you've been working really hard, nadad," Kili continues, and his smile falters ever so slightly. "I know I've been annoying you…and I'm just…" The smile fades completely when his little brother ducks his head. "I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I just want you to be happy again."

With Kili looking away, he bites down hard, early grinding his teeth as he squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn't want to do this.

But he has to. It's for Kili's own good.

"Well you're not going to make me any happier by giving me such a rubbish dagger," he grinds out, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

As expected, Kili turns disbelieving, hurt eyes up to look at him. He carelessly tosses the dagger toward the fire, not into it, not wanting to undo all of his brother's hard work. Kili's gaze stays on the discarded gift, even as he stands and pushes past him. He can feel that he is dangerous close to crying, he hates what he's done ('You have to do this,' he reminds himself), hates that he's hurting Kili on purpose, sweet little Kili who has never truly wronged him in all his life.

He only makes it about three steps before Kili shoves him hard in the back.

Well. That was unexpected.

"What's the matter with you?" his brother snaps, and when he turns to look back at him, he can see the hurt and the anger burning in his gaze. "You've been a fine arsehole for months and I haven't done anything to deserve it!"

"Oh please," he hears himself yelling back. "You've no idea, do you? How much of a burden you are?"

Real, genuine hurt flashes across Kili's face, and for a moment he nearly stalls out, nearly stops his tirade to beg for his brother's forgiveness. But he has to do this. He has to push him away, as far away as he can get him.

"I'm not…I didn't mean to…" Kili flounders, turning tear-filled eyes up to his brother.

He scoffs. "Look, and now you'll cry again. You'll cry and run to Uncle and make him take care of you. It's childish. Pathetic." His words taste like ash in his mouth.

"I am a child!" Kili snaps back. "I'm allowed to be sad and be scared and cry if I feel like it!" He takes in a shaking breath. "You're not grown, Fee. You think you're better than me, than Ori and all the other dwarflings but you're not." He takes in another, deeper breath to steady himself. "You're not grown. You don't have to act like it."

His resolve quavers. Kili is right, one hundred percent, and he knows it. His brother must see his moment of weakness, for he reaches out and places a comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezes.

"You're not, Fee," he affirms. "You're still a child too."

He wrenches himself away from his little brother as hard as he can. "I am a prince," he snaps. "And one day I will be king. And what will you be?" he jeers. "You'll still just be a mopey little dwarfling, Kili. That's all you'll ever be."

In truth, he doesn't expect the swing that Kili takes at him. In truth, he is acting on pure instinct from years of training when he easily dodges it. In truth, he hadn't felt his hand balling up into a fist, hadn't felt it when it smashed into Kili's cheek and sent him careening to the floor.

But he sure did feel his heart shatter at the absolutely broken look Kili shot up at him as he righted himself, disbelief and hurt and betrayal and anger all mixed into one.

Too far; he's gone too far.

"Kee," he murmurs softly, stooping and reaching for his brother who pulls back from him.

"Don't," Kili warns, his voice tight, on the edge of tears that Fili knows he's only keeping in because of his own words.

"Nadadith," he calls again as Kili rights himself, hand cupping his cheek. No, no, no. This is too much. This was a stupid plan. He was stupid. He'd gone too far; all of this had gone too far. "Kili, please; I didn't…" he stammers out as he reaches for him again.

"Stay away from me," Kili murmurs, his voice trembling. "Go away." He makes for their bedroom, but Fili is too numb to follow him until the sound of the door slamming shut and the bolt sliding into place snaps him out of it.

He runs to the door, uselessly tries then handle and nearly screams in frustration when he knows he cannot open it. "Kili, open the door," he begs, slapping his open palm against the heavy wooden door. "Please, Kili."

No sound comes from the other side, no muffled movements, no shuffling feet, no muted sobs. Nothing comes from his little brother, his precious baby brother. How could he have ever thought this would work? That this could be right. No, no, no. He'd ruined everything. He'd loose Kili and it would be his own damn fault.

But that had been the plan, hadn't it?

He sinks down to his knees, presses his forehead against the door as he sighs out a sob. "Please," he begs one more time before breaking down entirely.

Silence is his only answer.

Thorin wipes a tired hand across his face. Balin's news had been a heavy blow to him. There was already far too much going on now, with all of the work they had at the forge and the building of the great halls, sidelined by the fact that winter was fast approaching and he worried he would have barely enough coin to secure supplies to get them through it. Dealing with Dain on top of all of that…he couldn't focus on that right now. He'd have a week at least to formulate some sort of plan.

He's only just gotten himself in the house, has only managed to toe off his boots at the door when he hears the muffled crying. "Boys?" he calls, concerned when there is no response. He hastily removes the rest of his gear, haphazardly throwing his weapons to the floor in his rush to find out what is going on.

He expects to find Kili brooding over one thing or another, Fili perhaps comforting him. He does not, in a million years, expect to find Fili hunched in front of the door to his room, shoulders shaking violently as soft sobs wrench their way from his throat.

"Fili," he breathes out, panic lacing his voice. He kneels next to his heir, immediately begins searching him over for any hurts, becoming more concerned when he finds none. He reaches up to cup the lads cheek and presses their foreheads together. "Fili, lad. Tell me what's wrong," he urges.

"I'm so stupid," he sobs out. "I thought…I thought it was a good plan but it's stupid. I've ruined everything."

His words are hard to make out with how fiercely his voice quakes from the force of his sobs. "Nothing is ruined, my boy," he soothes, bringing his free hand around to rub his arm comfortingly. "Whatever this is, it can be fixed."

"It can't!" he whisper shouts as he lets his head drop to Thorin's shoulder. "I hit Kili, Uncle! He's never going to speak to me again." He dissolves completely into sobs then, and Thorin can do little more than wrap his arms tightly around him.

He reaches up to try the handle, and he is unsurprised to find the door locked. "Kili?" he calls. "Are you alright?"

For a moment, there is nothing more than Fili's quieting sobs. "M'fine, Uncle," Kili murmurs, sounding anything but.

He finally decides that Fili is his most pressing concern, so he urges the lad to his feet and practically drags him to their sitting room, settles him into one of the armchairs before kneeling on the floor in front of him. He grasps the lad's face in his hand and shakes him gently.

"Fili, look at me," he urges. Clearly, he has underestimated how stressed the lad has been recently. He'd seen the rising tension between the brothers, but he'd assumed it had just been a side effect of Fili's struggles with his own duties. He had hoped that the week off from his studies would have diffused the situation. Evidently, he'd been very, very wrong.

"Such a stupid plan," Fili mutters out, and Thorin is mildly pleased to see that he is starting to breathe easier, that his sobs are starting to lessen.

"What plan, lad?" he asks, cupping Fili's face in his hand again and brushing his cheek with his thumb.

Fili coughs out a sob. "To make Kili hate me," he explains, before dissolving into another fit of tears.

"To what?" he barks out, shocked to his core. "Why would you…?"

"Because if he hates me he won't die for me!" Fili interrupts with a whispered shout. "If he hates me, he's safe."

The sudden realization of just what Fili had been intending to do, of what he'd been doing for months, dumbfounds him. "That's ridiculous," he murmurs. "You can't have thought that would work?"

"I…I just had thought that…" Fili struggles to find the right words, and he eventually stops trying to.

"I…I will be honest with you, my boy," he murmurs quietly. "When I was just a bit older than you, I thought the same thing."

Fili turns tear-filled eyes up to him. "What?"

"We were on the road, traveling from place to place…one more than one occasion I made very sure to leave him behind." He feels a slight smile tugging at his lips. "But the trouble with little brothers is that, no matter what you throw at them, they still just…love you. They follow you to the ends of the Earth."

Fili's face crumples.

"I'd bet all of the gold in Erebor that if I were to ask Kili what was wrong, he would say that you hate him," he continues, keeping his tone level and soothing. "I don't think it could ever be possible for him to hate you, no matter what you've done."

The lad shudders slightly. "I…I wish he would," he murmurs finally.

"You don't" Thorin corrects. "As much as you hurt right now, with just the thought that you may have made him hate you? You would want that forever?"

Fili sags deeper into the cushions. "No. No, I don't want that at all," he admits. He looks exhausted, looks aged well beyond his years.

"You should sleep, Fili," he murmurs.

Fili shakes his head. "I need to talk to Kee," he insists. "I need to apologize."

"You are exhausted. You need to sleep," he urges. "You can use my room for the night. I will tend to Kili for now."

"No, Uncle, please," he protests again, though much weaker this time.

Thorin presses a kiss to his forehead. "How long?" he asks. He needs to know how long Fili has placed this burden upon himself, needs to know just how much he'd missed.

Fili chews his lip for a moment before answering. "Since Mister Balin taught me about spares," he admits.

Four years. This had been going on for four years, and he'd been completely blind to it. Kili had never come to him with concerns about his brother, not until last week. Fili had not shared his fears and doubts with him. When they were younger, they'd told him everything. But now…they were growing up. Soon, sooner than he'd like, they'd be full-grown and would barely need him at all.

"Sleep, Fili," he commands again, running a hand through the lad's tangled hair. "You can speak with your brother in the morning."

Fili finally nods his ascent, and Thorin is almost positive that he's asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

He sighs heavily as he pulls the door to his bedroom closed. One nephew tended to; one more to go.

"Kili, lad," he calls as he raps his knuckles lightly against the door. "Won't you let me in, please?"

He hears nothing from inside the room for a moment, until the quiet sound of the lock sliding open breaks through the silence. The door doesn't open, but he takes it as an invitation anyway and pushes the door forward. He almost misses the lad when he steps into the room, as he's huddled beside the door, back pressed against the wall and knees hugged tight to his chest.

"I tried really hard," he whispers as Thorin sits beside him. His cheek is only lightly bruised; truthfully he had been expecting much worse with how upset Fili had been. "I tried really hard but it still didn't help. I just made everything worse."

He doesn't hesitate to wrap an arm around his youngest. "You've done no such thing," he soothes gently. "This is…this is out of your control, my boy. This is for Fili to figure out."

Kili sighs and presses his cheek against his uncle's chest. "I just want to help," he murmurs.

"You do," he assures the lad. "Fili…well, I have set him straight again, I think. He got the idea into his head that you'd be better off if you hate him."

Kili's head snaps up, confusion marring his features. "Why would he think such a stupid thing?"

Thorin just barely resists the urge to chuckle at his youngest sister son. "You will understand when you are older."

The lad's eyes narrow the tiniest bit. "I don't want to understand when I'm older; I want to understand now."

He sighs, knowing that he owes some sort of explanation to the boy, knowing that he needs to tell him something to repair the rift that is ever growing between the two of them. "Remember when I told you that, though both of you are truly princes of Erebor, you will have very different duties?"

Kili nods silently, picking at an invisible piece of lint on his pants.

"Well, Fili has started to learn of his duties, and I think it has overwhelmed him a bit," he explains. "That is why he has been acting so strangely; he thinks he has bitten off more than he can handle. He hasn't, not really, but I think he sees that now." He sighs and brings a hand up to card through the lad's unbraided hair. "Think of Balin and Dwalin; they are both sons of a dwarf lord of high standing in Erebor. After you lads and my cousin Dain, they are next in line for the throne."

"I didn't know that," Kili says quietly.

"I am not surprised; Balin has not yet started your lessons on being a prince," he replies. "But think on this: Fili's tasks are much more like Balin's. He must be a scholar, must be very familiar with the laws and politics associated with our culture. He must also be a warrior, a strong one that others can look up to and follow for guidance. You, little one, will grow to be much like Dwalin. You will be in charge of managing and training Erebor's armies, and you will be expected to protect your king and crown prince, once you are of age."

"I'm going to be like Mister Dwalin?" Kili murmurs, just a hint of awe in his voice.

Thorin smiles lightly. "In time, yes."

Kili is thoughtful for a moment before frowning. "But why is that making Fee upset?"

"Oh, it's not truly that," he lies. "In truth, he struggles over the thought that you'll one day be in charge of protecting him, since he's spent so much time taking care of you. It was hard for me to do with your Uncle Frerin as well, but it is a transition we all must make. He just feels an immense amount of pressure right now, and that is partly my own fault."

The lad peers up at him. "How?"

"I have been neglecting my boys, haven't I?" he asks, and from the way Kili's eyes fall to the floor, he knows he is right. "I have gotten too busy with other things, kept saddling your brother with more and more responsibilities, and I have pushed him too far." He sighs heavily. "Had I not been so consumed with my own dealings, I would have seen your brother's turmoil sooner. I am to blame for his lashing out at you, lad. And I am sorry."

Kili is quiet for a moment. He honestly expects the lad to argue with him, to be as stubborn as he certainly was at that age (and still is, truthfully). "S'fine, Uncle," he murmurs eventually. "Is Fee going to be alright?"

He squeezes the boy a little tighter against his side. "He will; I am sure of it. But I need you to promise me one thing," he adds, and Kili looks up at him expectantly. "If this ever starts happening again, this thing where he pushes you away or stops talking to you? You let me know right away." He sighs. "Your brother is his worst critic. He will continue to push himself too far if we let him. And I…well; I haven't been as vigilant as I should have been. So you'll help me, won't you?"

Kili gives him a small smile in return. "Yes, Uncle."

"I fear…" he starts, rubbing Kili's arm gently when he feels the lad tense beside him. "I fear your brother will need your support in these coming years."

"I'll do anything to help him," Kili murmurs, without any hesitation. "I mean it."

He presses a kiss to his youngest sister-son's temple. "Thank you," he barely whispers, but from the way Kili's arms wind their way around his shoulders in a warm and affirming hug, he knows he's been heard.

Hours later, once he has finally coaxed Kili into bed and affirmed that Fili is sleeping peacefully, he finds himself perched on his armchair in front of the fire. He should be sleeping, he knows. He is exhausted and is running himself ragged – his perceived negligence of his nephews is proof enough of that – but there is so much more he needs to get done.

He stares down at the blasted piece of parchment the raven had brought earlier that afternoon, reads the words once more, even though he'd committed it to memory before he'd ever returned home.

Thorin, son of Thror, son of Train, King Under the Mountain, and Heir, Fili, son of Dis, are hereby summoned to court with Dain, Lord of the Iron Hills to be held in Bree, beginning at the dawn of Autumn. The Lord of the Iron Hills wishes to validate the legitimacy of this potential Heir to Erebor. It is requested that the Heir's tutor, Balin, son of Fundin, and weapons master, Dwalin, son of Fundin, attend court as well.

Should you choose to refuse this invitation to attend court, the Heir will be considered invalid, and the Lord of the Iron Hills will stake his claim to the throne of the Lonely Mountain.

He grinds his teeth, trying very hard to quell the rage he was feeling. Dain was pushing his hand far sooner than he had anticipated, and was being sneakier than he would like. He was, undoubtedly, backed into a corner, and the tension between his nephews, alleviated as it may be for the evening, was not helping things.

He rubbed a tired hand down his face as he fought the urge to cry.

Damn that dragon. Damn him.

Ohhhhh shit's about to get real. Thanks for reading, friends. You're amazing!