AN – Hooray! An update in a timely fashion! But don't anticipate this for the next chapter because I am fully expecting to be emotionally destroyed by DoS for at least a week. Thanks again for all the reviews. I know I've been really lazy but I'll reply to them this week.
I still own nothing. Enjoy!
Warnings: Potty words, broken bones, anxiety, depiction of major character death in a dream sequence, violence and mild gore in said dream sequence, and I did not really proofread or have this one beta'd so all mistakes are my own.
Greater than Gold
Chapter 16: Fifty-Three and Forty-Seven
By Displaced Hobbit
He sighs as he enters the settlement, hoisting his pack further up onto his shoulder. It'd been an abysmal few days of hunting. It had rained nearly the entire time, drenching him and Dwalin to the bone, and they'd not gotten more than a dozen rabbits between the two of them, hardly enough to keep their own families fed, let alone to sell.
"We should still be able to fetch some coin for the pelts, laddie," Dwalin murmurs gruffly, seemingly reading his thoughts. "Though I guess we'll be getting by for a few weeks on greens and rabbit stew."
"There should have been some bucks around," he complains, not for the first time during this trip. "Do you think something other than the rains ran them off?"
Dwalin just shrugs as they make their way to the marketplace to unload the pelts. "Hard to say," he admits. "But the rain will bring lots of grass, so they'll come back round soon enough."
Kíli sighs and nods, knowing that he is most likely correct. In the few years that they'd become hunting partners, they'd managed to map out most of the forests between their settlement and the ruined town of Fairfield, and had determined the migration patterns of most of their game. Rabbits were easy to find year-round. Most of the deer hid away for the winter, but there were tons of them in the spring and after the summer rains. Bears could be found in the fall, but they'd yet to try and bring one of those down. They'd also enlisted the help of Oin and researched edible herbs and plants, as well as those that could be used for medicinal purposes. They kept most of those to themselves, though he did give the medicinal ones to Oin often enough. They won't have much to sell today, but every bit helps.
They've not made it two steps into the marketplace before Ori is upon them, looking concerned and disheveled in a way that make Kíli's heart drop.
"There you two are," he huffs out. "Thank goodness you're back. Kíli...something...something's happened. Come with me."
"What do you mean?" he asks, frozen in place. "Ori, what's happened?"
Ori looks concerned, lets his gaze shift between the two of them. "It just happened this morning," he explains. "It's...it's Fíli. He broke his leg sparring, and Oin thinks it's pretty bad…"
His pack falls from numbed fingertips and his mind refuses to process the rest of Ori's message. It's Fíli. Fíli's hurt. Fíli never gets hurt, never gets sick…
"Is Thorin back?" he hears Dwalin ask as the warrior reaches down to grab his pack before shoving him none-too-lightly in the shoulder to get him to move. Thorin had left a few weeks prior, on a short trip to Gondamon, and was due back any day.
"No, he isn't. We sent word to him, though," Ori explains as the pair follows behind him.
It is a short walk to the Houses of Healing, but Kili's heart is in his throat the entire time. He's mentally cursing himself for leaving Fíli alone, even if it was just for two days. His brother had insisted that he and Dwalin not reschedule their outing, insisted that they would all do well with some fresh meat in their bodies, but he shouldn't have listened, he should have stayed because Fíli is hurt and he wasn't there for him. They reach the Houses of Healing in no time at all, and Ori leads them into a room in the back, before pushing the door open and letting them inside.
"Fee," Kíli breathes out as he pushes his way through the small group of healers to be at his brother's side. Fíli's face is positively ashen, covered in sweat with his hair askew. He only hesitates for a second before he's reaching for him, pushing some of the mussed hair out of his face and stroking his cheek gently, alarmed at how clammy his skin feels. "Fíli, hey," he murmurs when his brother flinches just slightly from the contact. "It's me."
"Kee," he rasps out, voice hoarse with pain. One hand clumsily reaches up for his brother, and Kíli immediately grabs it, squeezes it tight before laying their interlocking hands on his chest. "M'sorry…" he grumbles out. "Stupid...lost my...footing."
"Shh," Kíli soothes, using his free hand to get the rest of Fíli's hair out of his face. "You being clumsy like me? I'll tease you about it later, yea?"
Fíli chuckles then, before it's cut off by a rough gasp.
"It's good that you two are here," Oin says as he returns to Fíli's bedside. "I need to set the leg. The break is...well, it's all the way through the bone, but not terribly bad, as I had feared. Should heal fine, though…" he hesitates for a second as he makes eye contact with Kíli's worried gaze. "It'll be a painful one. Legs always are." He sets the supplies he'd gathered for resetting the leg down onto the bed. "I'll need you to hold him down," he says, gesturing to a few of the healers and Dwalin. "Kíli," he calls, hands a thick swatch of leather to him, "Have him bite on this. You keep him calm, all right? Talk to him."
He has to take in a few deep breaths to steady himself before he returns his attentions to Fíli once more. "Here, nadad, bite on this," he says as he places the strap of leather into his mouth. "Don't you worry, Mister Oin'll have you fixed up in no time, you'll see." Fíli gasps and tries to pull away when Dwalin and the healers move to hold him down, so Kíli leans closer, presses their heads together, and squeezes their hands tight. "Remember when we were little?" he asks, trying desperately to find a way to distract his brother, mindful of the way his voice is shaking. "In the fall, when the leaves would change color and drop away, and we used to get them in big piles and jump in them? There was one day when you covered us up in all of them, and we waited until Uncle Thorin came by." Despite Fíli's obvious pain, he lets out a small huff of a laugh at the memory. "And remember when we jumped out at him?" he asks. "I thought he was going to skin us alive for that, but he just -"
He's cut off from his story when Fíli screams in pain as Oin resets the leg. It is a small wonder that they're able to keep him still with as much as he starts to trash about. He's screaming through the strap, breath coming in harsh, struggled gasps.
"Shh," Kíli murmurs, keeping their foreheads together as best he can. "It's alright, Fíli. It's okay. I know it hurts but it's just for now; it will get better." His voice cracks just the smallest bit when he notices the tears pooling in the corner of Fíli's eyes. He lifts his free hand, dismayed to find it shaking, and cups his brother's cheek to wipe them away. "It's okay, Fee," he murmurs again, but now his voice sounds scared and lost, and he hates that he sounds so weak because he wants to be strong, needs to be strong for Fíli. "It's okay; it only hurts for a little while. I promise."
"Kíli," his brother chokes his name out in a half-sob, half-groan of pain, before he abruptly jerks just slightly before falling slack. Oin and his healers keep working diligently, bandaging and splinting his leg, while Kíli desperately tries to calm his breathing.
"Did you happen to get anymore valerian while you were out, laddie?" Oin asks a moment later. "I'm running low, and he'll need it."
"Aye, we did," he answers as he reluctantly pulls away from his brother to dig through his pack and produce the roots. "Where do you want them?"
Oin chances a glance up at him from where he works. "Over there, on the table. Start grinding them down, if you will." Kíli nods and does as he's told, easily locating the mortar and pestle and setting to work. He always better off when he has something to distract himself from his troubles, and even though he can't stop the shaking in his hands, can't help but glance at his brother's prone form every thirty seconds, it calms to him have something useful to do.
He's got three of the roots ground down before Oin comes to join him at the table, taking some of the ground valerian and mixing it with some other herbs into sachets. "He's going to be fine, laddie. Not to worry," Oin reassures as he works. "Legs take a long time to heal and they're…well, with your brother I'll expect it'll be difficult as it'll be some weeks before he'll be able to walk on it." The healer chuckles just a bit. "Might have to tie him down to keep him off his feet for so long."
Kíli gives him a small, fake smile. "Thank you, Mister Oin," he murmurs. "Uncle and I will take good care of him; I promise."
Oin gives him a wide grin. "Oh, of that I have no doubts," he says with a light chuckle. He finishes tying off the last sachet, setting it off to the side for later use before clapping a hand on his shoulder. He draws his hand back suddenly, alarmed, before laying the back of his hand against his forehead. "You're freezing, laddie," he comments, giving him another look over. "And completely soaked through! Bless me, we need to get you changed and warmed up before you catch cold in here."
Kíli blinks at him, confused for a moment. He doesn't feel cold, not in the slightest, but his hand had been shaking a lot, and he knew he was still soaked for their hunting outing in the woods.
"Come on, lad," Dwalin calls from behind him, settling a hand on his shoulder to pull him from the room. "Let's get us both cleaned up and warm."
Kíli shakes his head, brow furrowed in confusion. "But," he starts, but Dwalin cuts him off with a stern shake of his head.
"I know you don't feel it, lad, you've got too much adrenaline from seeing 'im hurt," Dwalin explains as he pulls him from the room, Kíli casting one last forlorn look at his unconscious brother as they go. "If you're half as cold as I am, and I know you are, you'll be needing a warm wash and a fresh change of clothes before you get back in there."
Dwalin must be right, for as Kíli follows numbly behind him, he feels the chill start to seep into his bones, and by the time they've reached the doors their apartments he's barely able to stay on his feet. Dwalin follows him in, helps him fill the bath with warm water and pulls out something dry for him to wear.
"Get yourself washed up and then you can go back, alright?" he instructs, and Kíli nods. "I'll take care of the rabbits and such; don't you worry about that. I'll come and check on you later." He gives him a warm pat on the cheek and a small, fond smile before he sees himself out.
Kíli strips silently, depositing his wet clothes by the side of the washbasin before sinking into the water himself. He welcomes the feel of the water against his skin, but it seems to unlock something within him, as his chest starts to feel tight and it becomes harder to breathe. Fili is hurt; he never get's hurt, and he hadn't been there to help. With a sigh, he sinks under the surface, scrubbing at his face and hair as he tries to pull himself together. He needs to be strong; Fíli needs him to be strong. He releases a shuddering breath when he reemerges, one that is more a sob than anything else, and focuses on scrubbing himself clean as quickly as possible, letting as much warmth into his body as he can in the short period of time of he allows himself in the bath.
He's cleaned and out and drying himself in less than five minutes, hastily pulling on the clothes Dwalin has laid out for him, grateful for the fact that he chose one of his thicker tunics and a pair of fur-lined trousers, despite the fact that summer is rapidly approaching. He still feels cold straight to his soul. He speedily combs through his hair, lazily pulling it back and tying it in place with a strip of leather, before tucking the comb into his belt and tearing back out the door, nearly running through the halls.
Oin looks up in surprise when he reenters the House of Healing, clearly startled to see him back so soon, but he gives him a comforting smile once he sees that he's changed. "He was up for just a moment," he says. "I gave him a sleeping draught and some of the valerian tea. There are some more sachets ready for him. Mix him up some if he wakes up and is in pain at all." He gives Kíli another smile before crossing the room and patting his arm gently. "You can stay with him for as long as you'd like. I'll check in often enough, and if you need anything, just call for one of the healers."
Kíli nods, grateful for his distant cousin's help. "Thank you," he murmurs sincerely. "I…just…thank you." Oin gives him another comforting smile before he excuses himself from the room.
With a sigh, he settles himself next to Fíli's bedside, brushing some errant strands of hair from his face. He looks calm and peaceful enough, but Kíli remembers his own broken bones well, and he knows that Fíli will be in a great deal of pain when he wakes. For a while, he just stares at him, worrying the inside of his cheek with his teeth. He knows this isn't his fault, he knows, but guilt still gnaws at him. He should have been able to help, he should have been there, and he wasn't.
Finally, he grows tired of feeling useless, and he remembers the comb tucked away in his belt. He gets up to retrieve a small basin of cool water and a cloth that Oin had left for him, before settling down on the bed. They've stripped Fíli down to just his smallclothes, elevated his leg quite a bit, and covered him up with thick furs, but his face is still coated with sweat. He sets about dipping the cloth in the basin, squeezing it out and wiping it across his brother's face with reverent care. Once he's finished, he places the basin off on the bedside table, and starts pulling the mussed braids free from his Fíli's hair. He combs out the larger tangles with his fingers, and then dips the comb in the water to tackle the smaller ones. He works gently, careful not to jostle his brother awake, and soon enough he has him looking nice and proper. He decides not to redo the individual braids, and instead pulls all of his hair over one shoulder and loosely braids it to keep it out of his face.
His task completed, he returns the basin to its original location, depositing the comb next to it, before settling himself back down in the chair at Fíli's bedside to wait, guilt and anxiety warring within him all the while.
He wakes with a soft groan, easing his eyes open to adjust to the dim lighting in the room. It's quiet, and lit only by a single, nearly burned out candle to his left, right, making him think it must be nightfall. There's a dull, throbbing pain in his right leg, one that's made worse when he attempts to wiggle his toes. His eyes take in the sight of his leg, obviously swollen and bruised even in the dim lighting, bandaged and splinted and propped up on a small stack of pillows.
He winces. Thorin will be so disappointed in him. It was all his fault that he fell in the first place. He'd been showing off for Gimli, goofing around and being stupid when he'd slipped and fell and caught his foot in a bit of rope and snapped his leg clean in two. It had hurt, Mahal had it hurt, but now all he could do was hope that he healed quickly and that Thorin wasn't too cross with him when he returned home.
With a groan, he lets his head flop down to the left, small smile tugging at his lips when he sees a mop of brown hair, pillowed atop slender arms. His brother is hunched over, resting against the bed in a way that Fíli thinks must be entirely uncomfortable. He must be asleep, for he's taking in deep and even breaths, and there's a warm looking blanket draped across his back. He wriggles his arm out from under the covers to card through the fine chocolate strands, grateful for his brother's presence, though he doesn't want to wake him. He's so tired that he's sure he'll be fast asleep again in just a matter of minutes.
The door is pushed open, the sound of it almost imperceptible. He flinches a little bit when he sees the tall foreboding form of his uncle, not at all looking forward to the lecture he's sure to receive.
He's surprised, then, when Thorin's stern expression melts into one of relief. Judging by how he is dressed, Fíli thinks he must have only just arrived and come straight to see him. He manages up a small, tired, almost apologetic smile. His uncle's eyes flick over to see Kíli, still asleep beside him, and a rather warm smile crosses his features as he comes to squat next to his bedside.
"You're awake," he murmurs, voice nothing more than a small whisper, but it has Kíli snapping up, bones in his spine cracking painfully with the rapid motion. He looks around, confused for a moment, taking in the sight of their uncle before turning to focus on Fíli's face.
"Fee, you're awake!" he murmurs, voice sounding completely wrecked. He coughs to try and clear it before turning to regard his uncle. "And you're home," he says, voice still sounding like a scratchy mess. "Oh!" he whisper-shouts. "Oin wants you to take some medicine; I'll get it…" He starts to get up, but Thorin places a warm hand on his shoulder.
"Sit, Kíli, and rest," he urges. "Dwalin told me about what happened in the woods; you need your rest as well." He stands to retrieve the sachet of medicine and sets about brewing the tea.
Fíli furrows his brow and starts to try to sit up. "Wha-? Kee, what happened?"
Kíli just shakes his head, but moves to help him sit up, propping up a pillow behind him. "Just a lot of rain, is all. How do you feel?"
Fíli grimaces. "Like piss, really," he answers, grimacing just slightly as they have to move his leg just a bit to help him sit up. "I'm sorry, uncle. I was goofing off and-"
"Don't fret, Fíli," his uncle calls, returning to the bedside with two mugs of tea. Fíli accepts the one he is handed gratefully, wrapping his fingers around it and soaking in the warmth he feels. He hands the second mug to Kíli and fixes him with a pointed look when his brother hesitates to accept it. "You are still young. These things happen."
"I know, but I'm supposed to be you heir, I'm not supposed to do stupid things like that," he continues.
Thorin chuckles lightly. "You put too much pressure on yourself, my boy," he says with a sigh. "A little forced break will be good for you. I am just glad you're alright."
Fíli sags against the cushions with a frown, but doesn't say anything else as he sips his tea.
"And you," Thorin says, turning to regard Kíli. "Are you feeling well? Dwalin has already come down with a cough, and he thought you might be worse off than him."
Kíli shrugs. "I'm just really tired," he murmurs. "But we didn't get a lot of sleep because of the rain."
Fíli reaches over and reaches for his brother, frowning when Kíli drops his own hand down to grasp it comfortingly. "You're freezing," he grumbles. Thorin frowns and swipes his own hand along Kíli's brow.
"M'fine," Kíli grumbles. "Honestly, the two of you. Fíli's got a broken leg and you're still both worrying too much about me."
Thorin frowns at him, eyes narrowing when the lad coughs just slightly, but drops the point for now. "You should rest," he murmurs, collecting their now emptied mugs and depositing them back on the counter. "I still need to unpack and debrief with Balin, but I will be back soon." He bends to press a kiss to both of their foreheads, in a display of affection that's become almost nonexistent in the past years.
"Thank you, Uncle," Kíli murmurs, trying unsuccessfully to hide his shiver as he pulls the blanket still resting on his back tight around his shoulders. Thorin gives them both a wary look, before he takes his leave.
"Come here," Fíli calls, but his little brother just shakes his head. "It'll be warmer in the bed, nadadith," he urges, not entirely sure why Kili is resisting.
"Don't want to mess with your leg," he murmurs. "It's fine, Fee. I'll just stay here."
He frowns again, idly stroking his thumb along his knuckles in the barest display of comfort. "You won't mess with my leg," he slurs just a little. The tea is starting to have an effect, as he doesn't even notice the throb in his leg anymore, and he can feel his eyes getting heavier. "You're cold."
"Do you want to lay back down?" Kíli asks, ignoring his request entirely as he reaches to adjust the pillows he's propped against.
Fíli shakes his head, alarmed at how quickly he's started to drift. "I'm sleepy," he grumbles lightly.
"So sleep," Kíli murmurs as he tucks the furs in around his chest. "I'll be here when you wake up."
And he does.
When Thorin returns again, tired from speaking with Balin and the long day's ride, the candle has burned itself out. He moves as silently as possible to light another one, a small smile tugging at his lips when the room is illuminated once more. Fíli is still propped up against his pillows, but he is sound asleep. Kíli is once again hunched over, sleeping on the bed with his head pillowed on his arms. With a sigh, he reaches down to brush some of the hair away from his face, a little concerned at how cold he still feels. He shakes his shoulder, gently rousing him from sleep. Kíli blinks sleepily up at him, before smiling slightly and coughing once.
"Up with you, in the bed," he demands, pulling the furs down to make room for him.
Kíli shakes his head. "Don't wanna hurt him," he grumbles sleepily, but rises from the chair anyway.
"You won't," he promises. "But you need to rest, lad. Dwalin's fallen quite ill from the cold; I should expect you will too."
He furrows his brow in confusion. "Mister Dwalin doesn't get sick," he grumbles, but climbs up into the bed anyhow, nearly falling off of the edge in an effort to maintain distance from his brother. He feels an amused smile tugging at his lips as he ruffles a hand through the lad's hair, taking his place in the chair and settling himself in. He'd much prefer his own bed after so long away from home, but Fíli certainly needs looking after, and he's a bit concerned about Kíli, so the chair will have to suffice for the night.
"Is Fee going to be alright?" Kíli asks just as he's making to light his pipe. He sounds small and scared and it pulls at Thorin's heart just a little. He can't remember the last time Fíli had been sick, let alone hurt, and he doesn't blame the lad for being extra worried for him.
"He will be," he affirms. "Oin assures me that the break was clean and should heal easily, much easier than yours." He tucks the furs around his youngest nephew's form, giving a reassuring smile when he's met with worried brown eyes. "And he's got you to take care of him. I'd expect you owe him a little after all these years." That pulls a small laugh from the lad, along with a sheepish nod.
"Will we be okay?" he asks a moment later. "With the forge and…and money and everything. We didn't get much food this time out and I know we'll lose business without Fee working…"
"Hush," he soothes. "When did you start worrying about all of these things, hmm? I will take care of everything else; you just focus on your brother."
Kíli nods, and Thorin swears he can see the relief come off of him in waves. It's not a moment longer before his breathing evens out in sleep, and Thorin is left to wonder when his boys had grown so. He's not used to them fretting over such things as money and food, though it shouldn't really strike him as strange. It felt as though, for the last two decades at least, there was never enough food to go around the settlement, never enough money for all to be able to purchase what they need. Thorin had refused to accept gifts or extra food, things that people promised to his often enough, claiming that his royal station deserved such things, but he could never accept. He couldn't bear to feast like a king knowing that his own people were struggling and starving.
It shouldn't surprise him, though. Fíli's taken on working at the forge to help them make extra coin, and Kíli's taken on hunting to feed his family, as well as several others in the settlement. It shouldn't surprise him that they've become aware of the burdens their people face.
And yet, neither of them has ever complained. Even as they see other dwarrows near their age gallivanting about freely, not weighed down by responsibility and tradition, they've not uttered a word about their displeasure of their duties. What fine princes they would be, one day.
Kíli hasn't been asleep long when he dissolves into a coughing fit. Fíli doesn't wake, but his arm reaches out, groping blindly for his brother to soothe him, and Kíli instinctively rolls and curls up against his side, his head pillowed on his brother's stomach, and Fíli's arm loosely around his shoulders.
He can't help the tired grin that pulls at his lips. It reminds him of how he was with Frerin and Dís, how close they were, at least until the dragon came along. After Smaug…after that they'd lost their closeness. Thorin became consumed with his burden, of trying to aid his grandfather and father in every way possible once they became refugees. Frerin had never been the same after he'd lost his One, and Dís…she could barely remember the grand halls of Erebor after a while, and that created a disconnect between the two of them that had lasted until her death. It was one of his biggest regrets, truthfully, that he hadn't been patient with her, that he hadn't really understood how young she'd been (or how young he'd been) when it had all gone to shit.
The boys have been close since they were just babes, and they were still as close as could be even now. He hopes they'll never lose that.
With a heavy sigh, his heart weighed down with thoughts of his brother and sister, he leans forward to adjust the furs around the two of them, to tuck them in tight, once again wishing that he could shelter them from all of the horrors he's known in his life. With Kíli curled closer to his brother, he decides to take the available space on the bed, toeing off his boots before settling up against the headboard. Fíli's head slumps slightly to rest on his shoulder, and he presses a kiss against the top of his head.
With what he's planning, he knows he needs to cherish these small moments. It'll all be gone before he knows it.
"I hate the blasted cold," Dwalin mutters from where he sits near the fireplace, blanket wrapped tight around his shoulders. His voice is still horrendously scratchy, even three days later, and Thorin has to hide his grin of amusement.
"You must be going soft on me," he teases lightly. "Kíli's not sick, and he was stuck out just as much as you." It was true; whatever chill had lodged itself in Kíli that first night had passed as soon as morning had come, and in the days since then his youngest had been dedicated to caring for Fíli.
"That's 'cause he had me watchin' over 'im and you know it!" Dwalin retorts, dissolving into a rough cough.
Thorin hands him a warm mug of herbal tea before coming to sit by him, wry smile fixed on his lips. "Of that I am well aware," he concedes. "And I thank you for it, my friend."
Dwalin takes a long drink from his mug. "Don't mention it. You know I'd do anything for those blasted boys," he admits. "Though, I do think the lads are making me lose my hair," he laments, running a hand over the bald, tattooed portion of his head, pulling a snort of laughter from his cousin.
"They've put enough silver into mine, that's for certain," he murmurs. "But they're good lads."
Dwalin hums in agreement. "Be right fine princes once we've reclaimed Erebor."
Thorin sighs softly. "That's what I wanted to speak with you about," he says. "If you're feeling up to it, that is."
"I take it your meetings in Gondamon proved successful?" the warrior inquires, and he nods.
"Gandalf used Nori's information to track down he was sending the false messages," he explains. "They were men, descendants of the survivors of Dale. Apparently, they're still angry that my grandfather did not band with them when we fled the dragon; they're under the impression that the let them suffer out of spite."
Dwalin makes a small noise of displeasure under his breath.
"They're well enough now, though, and they have to be the grandchildren, possibly the great-grandchildren of the survivors. They've had plenty of time to heal and they don't…"he lets out a small huff of frustration. "They don't remember. Somehow they think they're entitled to the wealth of Erebor after all of their…suffering," he spits. "They're sending the letters to throw others off the trail, to try and give themselves an advantages once they're ready to lay siege to the mountain."
"Men," Dwalin spits distastefully. "So blinded by their own greed…preposterous, that is."
"Of that I am well aware, but it does give us good information," he continues. "There are only a few of them with this blind ambition; they're trying unsuccessfully to garner more support. Meanwhile, it proves that Dain is trustworthy, at least as far as we can tell. The missives weren't being sent to the Iron Hills because none of their workers would venture that far, that close to the mountain."
"I still don't like 'im," Dwalin mumbles. "There's just something about him that doesn't…doesn't sit right with me. He may be right about the missives, but I wouldn't go off believing every word he says now."
Thorin nods in agreement. "Still…Gandalf has spoken with me of…dark things happening across Middle Earth. I think it better if we can count on him as an ally, at the very least."
Dwalin just shrugs, not wanting to agree one way or the other. Thorin can't blame him; Dain's made plenty of slights about him throughout the years.
"That being said," he continues, his tone turning serious. "Gandalf and I have begun to formulate a plan to reclaim the mountain."
"Oh?" he gasps, sitting forward in his chair and regarding him with great interest.
Thorin nods. "The time isn't right yet…we need…we need to wait for more of the signs to come to light before we proceed…but we're going to form a company of dwarves, ten or so, loyal enough to Erebor, to me, to accomplish this."
"Only ten?" Dwalin inquires. "Seems a small company for such a large task."
Thorin nods. "I thought so as well, but Gandalf…well, he's pointed out that an army would be useless against a dragon. If we're going to do this, we'll need to exercise a great deal of stealth. A smaller company will be easier."
"But the dragon sealed the gates," Dwalin points out quietly. "Even if we could get there, there'd be no way in."
"Gandalf is trying to come up with something for that; I believe he is hopeful that we would be able to lure the dragon out, if he is still living, and get in that way," he elaborates. "We could always tunnel in, but that would take years, and ruin the element of surprise."
Dwalin nods, his expression thoughtful. "So you're forming a company. Who've you got in mind?"
"You and Balin, of course. Probably Oin, for his abilities as a healer, and Gloin as another warrior," he murmurs. "I have not thought too far beyond that. Balin and I have been discussing who best to include, though we've not come to an agreement."
"And the lads?" he asks, addressing the elephant in the room without hesitation. "What of them?"
Thorin runs a tired hand over his forehead. "I will only ask Fíli if he is of age, which I hope he is not. I'll not ask Kíli."
"He won't be left behind. Especially if he's of age and has taken the oath," Dwalin argues.
"My mind won't change on this," he murmurs sharply. "If he takes his oath, I will reject it, and he won't be held to it."
Dwalin seems to take notice of the change in his tone. "Well, if all goes well, neither of the lads will be of age and we won't have to worry about it."
"Gandalf also wants us to hire a burglar as a part of the company," Thorin continues, choosing not to elaborate on that question any farther. "I will probably ask Nori. He has proven to be very useful these past few years."
"Well then…let's hope we're able to do this soon," Dwalin murmurs. "I daresay I miss our home more and more often these days."
He can tell by glancing at his friend that he's full of more questions, but he doesn't voice them, probably for fear of startling the thundercloud over Thorin's own head. Not for the first time, he finds himself grateful for his cousin's skills of observation as they fall into a familiar, comfortable silence.
"What are you doing?" Kíli shrieks from the door, the bowl of stew he was carrying nearly slipping from his fingertips in surprise. He hastily sets them down on the bedside table, rushing toward his brother to duck under his arm and support his weight. "What are you doing out of bed?" he scolds, tugging Fíli back to the mattress.
Fíli uses his size advantage and holds firm, balancing carefully on his good leg and refusing to budge. "I can't stand to be in that bed for another minute," he complains.
"Too bad," he grumbles in reply, tugging on his brother once more. "Come on, Fíli, don't be ridiculous. Get back in bed!"
"It's not fair," the golden haired prince whines. "You didn't have to stay in bed the whole time your arm was healing."
"I didn't," he confirms. "And it didn't heal right and Mister Oin had to break it again, don't you remember? Do you want him to break your leg again?"
Fíli positively blanches at the thought of being in that much pain again, finally relenting and letting Kíli lead him back to bed, grumbling all the while. "All I want to do is be able to go to the bathroom by myself," he complains.
"In two more weeks or so you can go all you want," he teases. "But for now, you have homework from Mister Balin. And lunch," he adds, almost as an afterthought.
"What's lunch?" his brother asks, suddenly interested now that food is a topic of discussion. "Not more rabbit stew, is it?"
Kíli frowns. "We're out of rabbit meat, but I boiled the bones to make broth and put a bunch of vegetables in it."
Fíli wrinkles his nose at that, clearly disappointed at the weak meal. He knows that the settlement is still recovering from the effects of yet another hard winter, and that food still wasn't overly plentiful, even for them. Still, he accepts the bowl gratefully enough. "Have you eaten?" he asks as he digs into a spoonful. It isn't awful, but a good bit of rabbit meat really would do wonders for his grumbling stomach.
"Yea, before I came," Kíli replies, fiddling with his belt, an immediate tell that he's lying, and he feels his heart sink into his gut at the thought of his little brother going without food because of him. For a moment, he thinks about pushing the point with him, about asking him to share, but he decides to drop it this time.
"Are you and Mister Dwalin going hunting again soon?" he asks, switching the conversation somewhat as Kíli settles himself into the chair at his bedside, idly flipping through one of the books Balin had sent over for him.
"Yea," he answers, not looking up at him. "We'll probably leave before the week is our, for a couple of days at least. Hopefully there's some deer out this time, or maybe a boar."
He finishes the rest of the stew without making any attempts at conversation, and Kíli steadfastly avoids his gaze the entire time. Finally, once he's finished, he sets the bowl and spoon down on the bedside table with a rather loud thunk that startles Kíli from where he is absently looking at the drawings in the book.
"Okay, out with it," he says without any preamble. He knows something is amiss with his brother, and he very much desires to get to the bottom of it. "You've been flighty all day."
"Have not," he murmurs, letting the book fall closed before setting it onto the bed next to him. "I'm just…worried, is all."
Fíli very nearly scoffs at that. It seems like lately Kíli's worried about everything and some days he feels like he's going to go mad because of it. He manages to bite his tongue, because he knows that, with him out of commission, Kíli likely has some very real things to be worried about. "Like what?" he prompts gently instead.
"Like that if I leave you alone for two days I'll come back to find you flat on your arse with you leg broken in two again, for starters," Kíli snaps, with no real heat to it.
He feels a flush of embarrassment come over him. "M'sorry," he murmurs, sounding utterly chastised. "I just…you don't even know how crazy being in this bed is making me. I should be at the forge, or training with Dwalin, or doing something, anything useful."
"You're getting better," Kíli reminds. "That's useful."
"I'm not taking care of you," Fíli mutters before he's really realized what he's said. "I mean, I know you can take care of yourself but…have you eaten anything today?"
Kíli has the decency to blush and look down at his hands. "I had some bread. I'm fine. I'm sick of watered down rabbit stew…I can hold off for a few days until we get some fresh meat."
"Are you sure?" he tries again, starting to feel guilty that he hadn't offered to share.
Kíli nods. "I know my limits, Fee; I'm fine." He's careful not to mention the winter he'd spent nearly starving to death, but Fíli remembers it anyhow. "Besides, you're healing. You need it more than I do."
"I suppose," he concedes quietly, not wanting to have this argument. "It's just weird for me, you know? You having to take care of me after all these years I've spent looking after you."
"Had to happen sometime," Kíli says with a small smile.
Fíli grins back at him. "All of your clumsiness finally rubbed off on me, so it's really all your fault anyhow."
Something flickers across Kíli's face in a flash, but he doesn't have the time to comment on it as pain suddenly flares up in his leg. He can't stop the sharp gasp and whine that follow, but Kíli is immediately on his feet.
"What is it?" he asks, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Do you need the valerian tea? For the pain?"
All he can do is nod as another thunderbolt of pain races up his leg. Oin had warned him about this, about the sharp, stinging pains that would come as the bone began to fuse itself back together, but he hadn't anticipated it would be like this. With a groan, he sinks back against his pillows, closing his eyes tight against the pain. It feels almost as bad as when he's broken it in the first place. Kíli is there a moment later, pressing the warm mug of tea to his lips and urging him to drink. He's dimly aware that he's slipping in and out of consciousness, and that Kíli is speaking to him, but he just cannot make out his words, no matter how hard he tries to focus on them.
He's not really sure what's happening, but Kíli's there with him. He tries to open his mouth to ask what is going on, but no words come. All he hears is the dull roaring of blood through his ears, the sound of his heart hammering in his chest. He tries to get his brother's attention, and Kíli does finally look at him, but when their eyes meet he sees that they are glazed over and blank, dead. He coughs, blood spurting from his lips and putting crimson stains along his fair skin, before he falls to his knees and lies still.
He wakes with a start, blinded by the bright candlelight around him. For a moment, he can only rely on what he feels (the dull ache in his leg, the cool cloth being pressed against his brow) and hears ("Shh, Fee; it's alright. You're okay"), and he draws in great, gasping breaths of air as he greedily tries to fill his lungs and calm himself back down.
Finally his eyes focus, and he makes out Kíli's anxious face from where he hovers above him. He looks so worried and it makes Fíli sad because he knows he's worrying about him.
"You're alright, Fee," he whispers quietly, voice trembling. "Just a dream."
"What…my leg…" he groans out, closing his eyes against the too-bright light of the room.
"Mister Oin said something happened when you got up to walk on it," Kíli explains. "I…I didn't really understand it, but he says you'll be fine."
As if on cue, the healer returns to the room, smiling slightly when he sees that Fíli is awake. "Gave me a right good scare there, laddie," he says, crossing to his bedside to check his temperature. "Still, the bone hasn't healed all the way and I think you gave it a good jostle. It's still set right and will heal, but no more getting out of bed on your own, do you understand?"
He winches, either from the harsh tone in Oin's normally friendly voice or the steady pain in his leg, before nodding in acceptance. Oin checks him over one last time before making sure they have enough sachets of pain medication before taking his leave once more.
He doesn't realize he's crying until Kíli is softly wiping at his cheeks with the cloth.
"Does it hurt so bad?" he's asking. "I can see if Mister Oin has anything stronger for the pain; hold on."
"No! Don't leave," he shouts, harsher than he means to, but he's suddenly terrified by the idea of letting his little brother out of his sights. "I…it's not that bad…I just…had a dream and I…just…need you to be here."
That seems to speak to Kíli, who's had more bad dreams than he could ever count. He gives Fíli's forehead one more swipe with the cloth before setting it off to the side and crawling into the bed with him. He moves to sit right at his brother's side, pulling his head to rest against his shoulder and idly stroking his fingers through his hair, pulling out the tangles he's caused in his exertion.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Kíli asks a while later, sounding hopeful and scared all at once. The tea is having a calming effect on him, and he almost feels like his mind is swimming before Kíli's question pulls him back in.
Fíli nods, surprising himself when he discovers that he does, in fact, want to unload some of his fears. "I keep…I keep having this dream," he starts, before furrowing his brow and shaking his head. "No…it's not…it's different every time. But you always…you always…die and…it's my fault."
Kíli's hands still in his hair for the briefest of seconds, and when he speaks again, he sounds wholly unsure of himself. "But it's just a dream," he soothes quietly. "I'm still here. I'm fine."
Fíli nods and lets his eyes slipped closed, almost lulled to sleep by the gentle fingers stroking through his hair, the steady sound of Kíli's heartbeat under his ear. "You would die for me," he murmurs. It isn't a question.
His brother stiffens again. "Yes," he whispers, like it's something they should keep secret.
"I don't want you to," he replies, burying his face in the soft tunic Kíli wears.
"Only if I have to," he promises, and from the feel of things, Kili's started to braid his hair, and he finds himself relaxing, allowing himself to be lulled to sleep by Kíli's gentle reassurances and the steady movement of fingers in his hair. Just before he slips back into oblivion, he has one final thought, one that he means to voice out loud but can find the energy to.
We go together or not at all.
Hooray! I really wanted to get this chapter done before DoS comes out for me on Friday, because I think I'll need AT LEAST a week to recover from that madness. As always, I hope you enjoyed! Leave some comments and let me know what you think!