I am so sorry for how long this chapter took to write. I've had exams, coursework and have a play performance coming up so I have practically no free time. I am, however, SO grateful for all your wondrous reviews! I've tried to reply to them all starting from last chapter as I've wanted to for ages, but thank you to the guests/those of you without PM enablement! There are over 500 FOLLOWERS now, that's crazy! Thank you all soo much!
Forgive any mistakes this chapter, it is a filler I'm afraid!
Read. Enjoy. Review.
Chapter Thirty # A Night-time Interlude #
Dwalin would always remember the first night they spent in Erebor. As soon as Óin had tended to everyone's wounds and declared Nori and the other injured dwarves well enough to explore, they re-entered the city, following Thorin through the wondrous halls of their homeland.
It was just as wonderful as he had dreamed it would be.
After all those years of listening to his parents and Thorin and Balin talk of their magnificent home Dwalin was finally there himself and it was every bit as magnificent as they said it was. His very bones felt settled within the strong rock walls, and though the air inside was musty and contaminated from the years of the worm's infestation of it still felt so right in his lungs. He had never seen those walls before, but he was home.
However, he could easily tell that Kíli was not.
True, the youngest dwarf of the company stared at his surroundings with awestruck, adoring eyes and he looked incredibly comfortable in his new surroundings, but there was a slight tension in his shoulders, and his eyes would constantly flicker between Thorin, Bilbo and Fíli as though he were afraid that one of them was about to disappear. He had not yet run off with Fíli to explore the mountain as Dwalin had completely expected them to, though they both seemed to be sufficiently shaken up from their confrontation with Smaug which could easily explain their hesitation to explore alone. When the warrior thought about it like that, it did make a little more sense.
The slight tension the young dwarf showed did not seem to dampen his spirits too much, so Dwalin put it to the back of his mind as they ate as much of their supplies as they dared and laughed and sang the day away.
Apparently singing and storytelling were not exciting enough for Fíli and Kíli, who eventually started a childish game of tag which ended up involving everyone but Óin, Balin and the injured Nori and Dwalin did not think that he had laughed so much in years.
Though few of the skylights and mirrors that filtered natural light into the city all of those years ago were open and working, the skylight in the Hall of Kings allowed enough light in for the company to know when the day passed away and the night was born. They continued to celebrate with games and stories and cheer until Dori noted that the company should probably get some sleep after the physical and emotional draining they had experienced in the past few days.
Thorin had suggested that they camped in the Hall of Kings until they could scout out some habitable living quarters and no one could think of a better idea. Dwalin smiled to himself as he set out his bedding roll in a nice private little spot between two pillars, revelling in the fact that he could lay down for no reason other than that he could.
He did not need to rest because he had been running for his life for days or so that hecould run for his life tomorrow…
He could just sleep because he wanted to, and he just wanted to sleep because he could.
Of course, the life of Dwalin, son of Fundin was never that simple.
When he was safe to sleep just for the joy of sleeping, his body refused to let him do so, and as the others drifted off around him Dwalin was still wide awake.
Practically growling with frustration, the warrior sat up in one violent motion, his hand flying to his knife when he saw something moving in the darkness.
Almost instantly he recognised the figure silhouetted by the pale moonlight and relaxed, wondering if Kíli was having the same problems that he was. Dwalin's eyes were well accustomed to the dark with his being a dwarf, and he watched as Kíli stood up and walked a few paces away from the rest of the company, leaning against one of the enormous stone pillars nearby before sinking back down to the ground.
Dwalin frowned, thinking of the way Kíli would usually be one of the first to sleep, snuggling down between Bilbo and Fíli and making himself his own little refuge between the two of them. Tonight, however, Bilbo and Fíli had found separate sleeping places almost five meters away from each other and Kíli looked lost in the spacious hall.
"You alright lad?" he asked in a low voice, unafraid of waking any snoring dwarves. They slept like logs most nights, the lucky devils.
Kíli jumped, and it was a moment before Dwalin received a reply. "Y-yes, I'm fine. Are you?"
"I'm alright. Why are you still awake?"
"Can't sleep." Kíli muttered, before adding something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "it's too dark."
"Don't tell me you're scared of the dark?" Dwalin teased lightly. "We've had plenty of black nights by now…"
"I'm not scared of the dark!" Kíli protested. "I just don't-"
"Don't what?" Dwalin frowned, slowly getting to his feet and wandering over to Kíli, sitting himself down next to the young dwarf. "Nothing…" Kíli mumbled. "Why are you still awake?"
"That's avoiding my question, lad."
"That's avoiding mine."
Dwalin snorted with quiet laughter. "True enough. Truth be told, Kíli, it always takes me a while to get used to sleeping in safety after spending time on the road."
Kíli hummed quietly and Dwalin did not push him further. Fundin's youngest son was not one to pry, and he knew that Kíli would talk to him if he wanted to. He also knew that Kíli was far more likely to want to talk to his brother, hobbit or even uncle, and he pretended not to notice the twang of pain that accompanied that thought.
Finally, Kíli spoke. "This hall is one of the most incredible places I've ever seen in my life, but it's too big."
"Too big?" Dwalin frowned.
"Mm." Kíli nodded, the shadows dancing away from his face as he looked up to the skylights, allowing the moonlight to illuminate his face. "The ceiling seems as tall as the sky and the hall is far longer than Bagshot Row… I've always preferred sleeping in small spaces. It's just a childish whim, but I can't seem to get rid of it. It's a bit pathetic, really."
"No it isn't." Dwalin replied firmly, a sudden thought dawning on him. "Do you know why you like sleeping in small spaces, lad?"
"No…" Kíli frowned. "Do you?"
"I do." Dwalin smiled slightly. "To chase away your nightmares, your mother told you that if you made yourself a little nest, nothing could harm you inside it. Thorin would come to the forge many a morning describing how you'd twisted your blankets into a den of sorts. We could always tell when you'd had a nightmare anyway, because if you had Fíli would be tucked up in your little nest too. As you grew older you moved your bed against the wall and piled whatever pillows or coats you could find on the other side of the bed just to make your space as small as you wanted it."
"Oh…" For a long moment Kíli was quiet. "Really?"
"Aye…" Dwalin smiled wryly in the darkness. "You may have lost your memories but I don't think you ever really lost yourself."
Kíli stiffened beside him and Dwalin wondered if he had alienated the younger dwarf by overstepping his boundary with concern.
"I'm not sure I really know who I am anymore." Kíli confessed quietly, turning his head towards Dwalin though he was unable to see him.
"Few people do when they're your age." Dwalin admitted sagely. "And you've more reason to be confused than most."
"I know I have to choose soon, about what I'm going to do…" Kíli sighed. "And I don't think I can choose."
"You don't have to choose just yet, laddie." Dwalin put a hand on Kíli's arm automatically, surprised when the boy leant into his touched like an attention starved puppy, which was not an entirely truthful analogy in Dwalin's eyes, for though Kíli was as innocent and playful of a puppy he was most certainly not starved of attention. That was probably half of the problem. "And no one's saying that your choice has to be permanent."
Kíli sighed heavily. "I wish the Shire and Erebor were closer together."
"Aye, that would make things a lot simpler." Dwalin agreed whole heartedly. "And we wouldn't be short on food now, would we?"
Kíli laughed despite himself. "No, we wouldn't. Oh, do I miss hobbits' cooking!"
"I don't blame you for that." Dwalin's stomach rumbled at the thought of such delicious food though they had eaten but an hour ago.
"Dwalin, did you always want to be a warrior?" Kíli asked curiously.
Dwalin frowned, but did not vocalise his confusion towards Kíli's question. "Not really, no. When I was a wee lad I wanted to be stone mason. I wanted to carve out a glorious home in strong rock and make a kingdom to be proud of; somewhere we'd be safe and wouldn't have to run."
"What changed? If you don't mind me asking?"
Dwalin grinned. "Your manners never fail to amuse me, Kíli. No, I don't mind your asking... You've been told a little of the Battle of Azanulbizar?"
"I have…" Kíli said slowly and Dwalin sighed heavily.
"We fought in that battle… Thorin, Balin and I, along with Thorin's brother, Frerin."
"Thorin's brother?" Kíli frowned, and Dwalin felt Kíli's hair brush over his own shoulder as the boy looked to his uncle.
"Aye…"
"He never told me…" Kíli's voice trailed off and Dwalin sighed, his own pain at losing Frerin lingering only a little less strongly than Thorin's.
Dwalin had trailed after the brothers from the moment he learnt how to walk, and it had been Frerin to accept him first as a playmate rather than a charge to babysit. Frerin had been his brother before Thorin had, though it was undisputable that he had been closer to Thorin even before Frerin's death, having much more in common with the oldest heir of Durin. Even so, losing Frerin had been like losing a limb, and though he felt ashamed of it he hated speaking of his brilliant lost friend. The memories just brought back too much pain.
"He never told either of you." Dwalin closed his eyes, though it made little difference in the dark hall. "He only told Fíli after you were lost to us, and only when it looked like we were going to lose Fíli too."
"What do you mean, 'lose Fíli too'?" Kíli asked, sounding slightly ill.
"He didn't take well to your disappearance, Kíli. He wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep, wouldn't speak… Drove your mother to tears, and that takes quite a bit of doing… Thorin told him of Frerin in the hopes that it would teach him that you can go on without your brother." Dwalin sighed, reverting back to his original topic. "We were younger than you now when we fought at Azanulbizar. We were no more than children and there's a very good reason children aren't sent to war. I watched my father die before my eyes, and when the battle was over and I went looking for the others I found that Frerin too had fallen in the battle. Thorin hasn't been the same since, none of us have. It changes you, battle… Afterwards any path other than that of the warrior felt like it was dishonouring the memory of my brothers-in-arms."
Kíli was quiet for a long while, and when he finally spoke his voice was almost silent. "I'm sorry, Dwalin."
"I'm not." The warrior smile, ruffling Kíli's hair fondly and waiting hopefully for the boy's reaction, overly delighted when Kíli batted his hand away playfully. "Some stories need to be told every now and again, and you would have found out about Frerin at some point. Don't bring him up though, not if you can help it. Thorin…Well, I struggle talking about him, and the only siblings I've ever seen closer than Thorin and Frerin are you and Fíli."
"I understand." Kíli said sincerely, clearing his throat. "I've been meaning to talk to you, actually."
"To me? Why?"
"I don't really know you at all, but I did once." Kíli's voice sounded just a tad off, telling Dwalin that the lad was far less confident than he was letting on. "I just wanted to talk to you just to, you know…talk…"
"Fair enough…" Dwalin nodded, trying desperately to swallow the lump in his throat. By Mahal, he was not good with emotions… "What's brought this about?"
Kíli coughed awkwardly. "I've been having certain… flashbacks… for a while now. Well, since Goblin Town. They're just snippets, really, little bits of memory but sometimes they're nothing more than dreams… I was wondering… Did I ever set my sleeve on fire?"
Dwalin froze, speaking slowly. "Yes…it was your pyjamas, I think."
Kíli nodded, making a satisfied sort of hum. "I thought so…"
"You were fooling around by the fire…" Dwalin recalled as he absently ran his fingers over the scares he had received that day tearing Kíli's burning clothes away.
"We remember that very differently then." Kíli sounded affronted. "I remember you were fooling around by the fire – I was just joining in!"
"That sounds about right…" Dwalin laughed, before glancing over the company to check that no others were stirring. In the peace of the night even Master Baggins was snoring lightly, and Dwalin remained certain that their conversation was going unheard. "So, what exactly do you want to 'just talk' about?"
"What do you do?" Kíli asked instantly. "If you're a warrior what do you do when you're not fighting orcs or dragons?"
"I used to work in the blacksmiths with Thorin, though I suspect that will be changing shortly…" Dwalin mused, wondering what his position would be now… "And I enjoy hunting."
"That doesn't surprise me." Kíli nodded along. "I love hunting."
"Aye? I suppose that's something you taught yourself?"
"To an extent." Kíli agreed. "There are some in the Shire with the skills to hunt, but it is not often needed."
"Your uncle pretends he's a superb hunter," Dwalin grinned evilly, "But the only reason I'd go hunting with our esteemed leader would be to stop him from accidentally killing himself."
"Really?" Kíli laughed. "I can't imagine that."
"The first time Thorin took me hunting got attacked by our quarry. He had scratches all up his arms – enough to make my mother believe we'd been attacked by bandits or the like – not to mention the fact that our prey escaped."
"What were you hunting?"
"Rabbit."
Kíli's burst of laughter was quickly stifled by the young dwarf's own hand over his mouth. "Really?"
"Really." Dwalin nodded with a smile.
"Bilbo shot his own foot once," Kíli recalled, and all of a sudden the floodgates opened.
The two dwarves exchanged anecdotes for hours – stories far more personal than the funny tales that had been shared with the entire company. They told each other of their triumphs and their fears, and Dwalin wondered when the last time he had talked about himself for so long had been.
Finally though, Kíli was unable to hide his frequent exhausted yawns, and Dwalin himself could finally feel his eyes begging to close.
"You made us all proud today, Kíli." Dwalin insisted, pulling Kíli up with him as he stood. "Well done."
"Thank you…" Kíli yawned, and Dwalin wordlessly strode over to Kíli's abandoned bedroll and pack, carrying them over to the nearest corner.
The warrior tucked the bedroll into the corner, using the pack to section of the space a little further, before returning to Kíli, who was dozing while still on his feet, still leaning against the pillar where Dwalin had left him.
Dwalin steered the young dwarf to his makeshift bed, smiling fondly as Kíli curled into a ball and instantly succumbed to sleep.
When the older dwarf returned to his own bed and lay down he smiled. Perhaps it was because he had finally had the conversation he had craved for weeks, or perhaps it was simply because he had no energy left to dream, but Dwalin son of Fundin slept easy that night.
And so did Kíli.
I hope that was okay, a bit fillery I know, but next chapter we will have Erebor Exploration by our favourite troublemaking dwarven princes! I hope I did the Dwalin/Kíli convo justice, and there will be another one at some point!
I'll update as soon as I can, but the play and coursework are intensifying right now so I can't make any promises as to when I'll next update.
