Thanks for the lovely reviews for the last chapter; I'm glad you seemed to like it. This next one is alright, by my own standards, so I hope you'll enjoy it even more. I'm sorry for the wait, I've had so much coursework recently that my mind has been absolutely overloaded with stress and Cold War information, so writing has not been top of my priority list. I have a little more time now though, so the next update should be sooner.
Don't ask about the chapter name. It just kind of fit in my head :)
Read. Enjoy. Review.
Chapter Forty One # Goodbye Yellow Brick Road #
With a heavy step and a heavier heart, Thorin returned to his sister's home under the blood red morning sun. Dis appeared instantly, her face begging for some form of good news. Thorin shook his head slowly.
"He's gone, Dis."
"Gone?" She whispered. "But you said he was back, you said he was alive - Thorin?"
"He was back," Thorin's voice stuck in his throat. "He was alive, but we...we lost him, Dis."
All the blood drained from his sister's face and she choked for a moment. "You...lost him?"
"He wanted to return to the Shire, so we sent him back with Fíli. There was an ambush and...they're both gone." Thorin admitted in barely more than a whisper.
"Both?" Dis trembled, grief and fury and agony warring for dominance of her face. "My...my sons are both dead?"
Thorin nodded, remembering his poor nephews' bodies strewn bloodied and broken across the cold, snowy ground with a spasm of pain.
"You killed them!" Dis screamed suddenly, the pain in her voice as sharp as nails. "You killed my babies!"
Thorin did not even raise his hands to defend himself as Dis flew at him, her eyes wild and her teeth bared. It was his fault, he had arrived too late, and Fíli and Kíli had bled out in his arms and he deserved his sister's bloody retribution. Even as Dis lunged, her face and limbs shifted into that of a vicious wolf and Thorin was knocked to the floor.
He rolled backwards through the abnormally long corridor and squeezed his eyes shut to wait for death, but no teeth pierced his skin and he opened his eyes slowly. The cavernous ceiling of Erebor swam into his vision and he frowned.
He must have been dreaming, sleepwalking around the palace – that explained everything.
A low, mournful wail was resonating throughout the halls and Thorin felt a sudden sense of dread flooding over him. Climbing to his feet, Thorin ran into the throne room and saw Dwalin standing with his back to the door, glaring at the throne.
"Dwalin?" Before Thorin could ask what was happening, Dwalin turned around with his eyes burning in fury.
"This is all your fault! You're a fool, Thorin, a thoughtless, cruel fool and now you're losing everything!"
"What have I done?" Thorin asked, baffled, and Dwalin roared, taking a furious step toward him.
"You killed him, Thorin! You murdered him, and now we're at war with the Ironfists of the Red Mountains!"
Thorin frowned, trying to recall what his friend could possibly be yelling about. "I killed who?"
With a wordless roar of fury, Dwalin pointed behind Thorin who turned and felt his world shatter instantly.
The constant, unending lament he had heard was coming from Kíli as he cradled Fíli's lifeless body in his arms.
"No, no!" Thorin cried, recognising Fíli's injuries fatal as identical to Frerin's, and Kíli looked up at him, his eyes widening in fear as he saw Thorin.
"Please, don't hurt me, please!" the young dwarf begged, holding up his bloody hands in surrender.
"Kíli?" Thorin questioned brokenly. "Kíli-"
Kíli scrambled backwards away from Thorin, the years of age falling away until he was a dwarfling once more - a dwarfling with a bleeding head and a look of stricken terror on his face. "Don't hurt me, don't hurt me, please! Fee! Fee! He's going to kill me, help me, Fee!"
"Kíli, stop!" Thorin called frantically as his screaming nephew shuffled back towards the edge of the walkway. "Stop, you'll fall!"
"Please, don't hurt me! Fíli, Fee!" The boy begged without stopping, his hands reaching the edge of the walkway.
"No!" Thorin roared, lunging at Kíli in a desperate attempt to grab him before he toppled off the edge, but Kíli pushed himself away and fell into the abyss below with a scream. Throwing himself down onto his stomach Thorin reached out with a scream, watching as Kíli fell far away.
"How could you do that?" A voice screamed, and he whirled around to look at Fíli, who was very much alive – and only about sixty years old. "How could you let him go?"
"Fíli!" Thorin gasped, pushing himself up, but as he staggered towards his nephew, Fíli pushed him back violently. "You don't deserve to be king! You let him go, time after time; you don't deserve to be living, Thorin! You let him go and you've killed him."
"No," Thorin begged, but Fíli stared him solidly in the eye.
"I hate you, Thorin Oakenshield. What have you done for me, hm? Shunned me since you murdered my brother, that's what! I had no more lessons from you, no more training, you left that to Balin and Dwalin and you left me knowing that it was my fault - I killed Kíli and that must have been why you hated me, why you cut me off!"
"I didn't mean-"
"Oh but you did," Fíli laughed coldly. "Kíli was always the favourite. I'd do my best, I'd do better than he ever could and he was still the favourite, even when he was gone! Then he came back and you still favoured him! You gave him lessons, you gave him your sword, you embraced him – you sung him to sleep and he's seventy-seven! And you could not even give me an occasional comment to say 'well done, Fíli' or 'I'm proud of you, Fíli' or even 'Fíli, I'd care a little if you died!' I've done everything for you and you push my face in the mud."
"Fíli," Thorin murmured, his heart breaking. "Fíli, I'm sorry-"
"It's too late!" The child said coldly, shoving Thorin harshly over the side of the walkway.
Thorin jolted awake, the feeling of falling still tingling in his muscles and he sat up quickly, trying to calm his heavy breathing. He was in his own bed in his own room in his own mountain and he had just been dreaming.
Fíli and Kíli were fine, he told himself firmly. They were safe in their beds and would be for another few hours, if the hour was indeed as early as Thorin perceived it to be.
Furthermore, he was making the right choice in letting Kíli and Fíli go back to the Shire - it would be best for everyone and he knew it. Shaking off the last vestiges of sleep, Thorin got out of bed, knowing that he would get no sleep that night, and he crossed the room to light a candle.
As the fire bathed a small section of the room in its soft orange glow, Thorin sighed heavily and wondered if Fíli ever did resent him for his harsh demeanour. He hoped - he prayed that his nephew did not, but Thorin would deserve it if he did. His nephews were better dwarves than he was, and he was so lucky because of it.
Taking his time to get dressed, Thorin slowly began to prepare for the day ahead, a weight on his heart as he noted that the date of his nephews' departure had come at last. He had a few hours before anyone else was likely to wake, so he decided to take a short walk to clear his head.
Descending the stairs down from the royal quarters slowly, Thorin looked to his left towards the quarters of the high nobility. Each member of the company had been granted residence there in places of high honour, except Kíli and Fíli, who had taken their rightful rooms as princes in the royal wing (though for whatever reason check Kíli often insisted on sleeping in the same room as his brother) and Bilbo, who had also been given a room in the royal quarters due to his status as Kíli's father.
According to Dain, some of the lower nobles in his army complained about the hobbit gaining such a room of high honour, but Thorin's fiery cousin had been quick to defend the halfling he had taken such a liking to. Thorin was unsurprised at Dain's growing friendship with the hobbit - his cousin was nothing if not sociable and Bilbo was easy to get along with to any sane person.
Deciding to visit one of Erebor's many balconies for glimpse of the early morning stars and the sunrise, Thorin made his way through the halls and up into the night sky. To his surprise, the balcony was not unoccupied.
"Fíli?"
Fíli turned and smiled at him. "Good morning, Thorin."
Thorin nodded in response, not bothering to ask Fíli what he was doing up before dawn. His sister-son would volunteer the information when he was ready. The pair stood in silence for a long while, observing the layer of snow already visible by starlight and by the time Fíli spoke the sun was peeking over the horizon, lightening the darkness gently.
"Do you think my actions are treacherous, Thorin?"
"No," Thorin said firmly. "Your duties are first to your family – to your brother, and someone needs to keep him safe."
"Good," Fíli nodded, a small smile crossing his face. "I imagine that Balin and Dwalin will keep you on the right path until we return."
Thorin raised his eyebrows. "Are you teasing your king, boy?"
"Of course," Fíli returned easily, and Thorin smiled, until a horrible thought clouded his mind.
He loathed speaking about his feelings - the words would always come awkwardly from his mouth and he stammered like a frightened child - but he had spoken of them with Kíli...
"Fíli, I feel I owe you an apology."
Fíli gave him a confused glance. "What for?"
Thorin sighed. "I have always seemed to favour your brother over you... I never have, not in my heart, but I have acted as if it was so."
Fíli took a deep breath. "Ah... You mean that you would teach Kíli Khuzdul and me nothing, and that you are far softer on him than you are on me?"
Thorin winced. He had hoped that his dreamed fears were unfounded and that Fíli did not think in such a way. He nodded slowly. "I am sorry."
"You don't have to be sorry, uncle, I understand. I will admit that it made me angry, when I was younger, but I understand now. You have done right by us, Thorin, both of us, on every occasion but one – and you resolved that by going to Thranduil for help."
Thorin's heart both lifted and sank at Fíli's words. It was wonderful that Fíli understood, but there was still a part of Thorin that did not feel worthy of such understanding and he could not help but grumble. "I do not deserve such forgiving sister-sons."
Fíli snorted. "You should not wallow in guilt like that, Uncle. It doesn't become you."
Thorin smiled wryly - as usual Fíli was right. He had always loathed it when those around him wallowed in self-pity, and he would have to stop doing so himself. "You are right. I'm sorry."
"Apology accepted." Fíli quipped, and Thorin sighed, softly.
"Take care of yourself, Fíli, on this journey. You are the crown prince of Erebor, but more importantly, you are my sister-son, and the most brilliant heir I could have ever asked for."
Surprise lit up Fíli's eyes before a glowing smile shone on the young dwarf's face. "Thank you, Thorin. That means a lot to me."
Thorin bowed his head in a short nod.
Fíli smiled. "You are a good king, Thorin."
"I am glad you think so." Thorin smiled back softly. "I love you, Fíli. More than my own life."
Fíli turned completely and looked at Thorin, but the confusion on his face was nothing compared to light shining in his eyes. "I love you, too."
It was strange, really. Thorin had not uttered those words in such a long time – it was not really his way to go about professing how much he loved those in his heart. He did love them – his sister, her sons, his dear friends within the company – and his love was strong and fierce as was the rest of his being, but it was also private. The world was not privy to the emotions of Thorin Oakenshield, and he had always been one to keep his feelings to himself. Proclaiming his love for his family would not shield them from the dangers of the world, after all…
Losing Kíli had hardened Thorin even further, but finding him again was a different story. As early as Bag End, Thorin had realised that Kíli would not understand his gruff ways with the upbringing that he had received, so he had been forced to act more openly than usual, and perhaps that was why the words "I love you" had come so easily from his lips.
The brilliant sparkle of Fíli's eyes when Thorin had said the words aloud was enough to convince the king that he ought to say it a little more often, should he be blessed with the return of his nephews once more.
The king and his heir remained on the balcony for a long while, before finally turning back into the mountain when the call of their stomachs became too loud. By that time, the entire company was awake and gathered in the royal dining room for an enormous cooked breakfast, courtesy of Bombur.
Largely due to the wonderful food that the rotund dwarf had spread across the table, breakfast was a relatively merry affair, though there was a bittersweet air about the meal and it was over far too soon. Before he knew it, Thorin was standing behind the great gates of Erebor and approaching his nephew for what could be the last time.
"Kíli, will you walk with me for a moment?"
Kíli smiled and nodded, following his uncle into an abandoned corridor. Thorin began to stroll through the empty stone and Kíli remained at his side, waiting for his mother's brother to begin to speak.
"When you were very young, you never liked being cradled like an infant," Thorin began slowly. "You would want to look out at the world, you would cry until your mother held you over her shoulder or let you face outwards and see what was happening. When he could get his hands on you, Fíli would carry you around as if you were a cat and his little arms would end up around your neck – not on purpose, of course, but he almost strangled you several times. I used to sit you on my shoulders, as soon as you were big enough. You were only happy if you were looking at those around you, if you were doing something. But the moment anyone put you down or left you, for so much as a second, you would cry and scream…You could never bear the thought of being alone, not even when you were a baby… You do not need us to hold you anymore, Kíli, and I am very proud of you." Thorin smiled sadly and put a hand on Kíli's shoulder. "Finding you in the Shire was the brightest and best miracle that I could ever have imagined, and I pray that you will return to us again one day. There will always be a home for you here, Kíli, among your people."
Kíli smiled sadly. "Thank you, Thorin. I would like to come back, someday."
Thorin's heart rose at the thought and he put a hand on Kíli's hair with a wry smile. "Do not hesitate to visit us here. It will be a long while before I am able to travel to the Shire."
"I'll miss you, Thorin," Kíli admitted so sorrowfully and so easily that Thorin was almost jealous. His young nephew was so open with his feelings that it almost seemed to make up for Thorin's incompetence in the area. "I will miss you a lot."
"And I will miss you," Thorin refused to let the tears prick at his eyes as he finished the sentence in his head. "I will miss you every day, as I did for so long…"
"I love you, Thorin." Kíli's eyes shone with honesty and sorrow and Thorin could not stop himself from hugging his young nephew tightly. Kíli returned the embrace enthusiastically, his fingers curling around Thorin's hair and the king smiled.
"I love you, too, Kíli." Thorin closed his eyes for a moment, holding Kíli even closer and trying desperately not to feel as if he was losing the boy again.
Kíli was not dead, nor was he injured, and it was foolish for Thorin to compare the situations.
With a heavy sigh, Thorin released his nephew and was unsurprised to see tears on Kíli's cheeks. They had finally won the battle to well in his own eyes, too.
"We should go."
"Yes, we should," Kíli nodded, taking a deep breath and wiping his eyes quickly. Thorin did the same, though his movements were notably slower and more dignified.
By the time they returned to the main gate, the others had all but finished with their own goodbyes, and the ponies they had recently bought from Lake-town were packed and ready to go.
Thorin sighed, striding immediately to his other sister-son and embraced Fíli fiercely. "Take care you yourself, Fíli."
"You too, Uncle." Fíli smiled, returning Thorin's embrace for a long moment before breaking away, and Thorin thought that Fíli's calm eyes were still sparkling a little.
Thorin clamped a hand on Bofur and Nori's arms in turn, imploring them to return safely, before shaking hands with Bilbo. "May the road rise to meet you, Bilbo Baggins."
Bilbo smiled, returning the handshake strongly. "You too, Thorin Oakenshield. I hope we may meet again sometime in the future."
Thorin nodded and reciprocated the sentiment, though he held little hope for such a reunion. "As do I... Thank you, for everything."
Bilbo bowed slightly and Thorin embraced Fíli and then Kíli one last time, holding his beloved nephews close.
"Be safe." He whispered in Kíli's ear.
"You, too."
Thorin raised his eyebrows at Kíli's sombre face as he pulled away. "I will be perfectly safe, I am in the mountain."
"Well, Dwalin did tell us of what happened when you first went hunting…" Kíli said gravelly, and Thorin turned to glare at his friend who simply grinned at Kíli, shaking his head.
"Did he now?" Thorin could not help but smile and Kíli flashed him a bright smile.
"He did," with that, the young dwarf sauntered over to Bilbo and all but threw him onto a pony.
The hobbit yelped and protested vehemently about his dignity and Kíli's immaturity while the company laughed light-heartedly and the young dwarf mounted his own pony with ease.
"Goodbye!" the small company of travellers called, their voices a little sad but undoubtedly merrier than most of the voices in the chorus of subdued replies they received.
"Goodbye…"
Bilbo glanced over his shoulder at the closing doors of Erebor and shifted slightly on his pony, staring at the surprisingly beautiful scenery around them. The ground was covered in about two inches of soft white snow, though the sky was crisp and blue with only a few wispy white clouds to be seen. Somehow, the snow seemed to make the Lonely Mountain seem warmer. No footprints marred the pure white covering the ground and it made Bilbo think of the new beginning that the dwarves were facing. The thick dwarven coat that he had been given kept the chill of the wind at bay, and somehow, even in the midst of winter, the desolation of Smaug seemed almost warm.
"Not getting too cold there already, Bilbo?" Bofur teased lightly as Bilbo shifted on his pony and snuggled into his coat.
The hobbit rolled his eyes. "I'm fine."
"Hobbits get cold quicker than we do," Kíli noted, though his voice was fairly light. "So do tell us, if you get cold, Bilbo…"
"I may be a hobbit but I'm not a child," Bilbo stated mildly. "I am absolutely fine."
"As long as you're sure," Bofur sang playfully. "We wouldn't want our little hobbit to catch a cold now, would we?"
"Feel free to patronise me, Bofur, but do not hold me accountable should you wake up in the middle of the night with your hat missing and your boots tied together." Bilbo smiled serenely, his face the picture of innocence.
Bofur growled. "You wouldn't dare touch my hat!"
As Bilbo and Bofur dissolved into friendly banter Kíli rolled his eyes and turned to his brother.
"So, what is your pony's name?" the younger dwarf scratched his own grey pony's ears. "The men of Lake-town didn't name them, so we may as well…"
Fíli thought for a long moment. "Vali…He is called Vali."
Kíli nodded his approval. "That's a good name."
"What are you going to call yours?"
"I think I'll call him Fosco… He looks like Drogo's father…" Kíli reasoned, thinking fondly of the ageing hobbit who was forever trying to convince Kíli to settle down and marry like a sensible young hobbit. Fosco had initially been rather hostile to Kíli, but after the incident with Rosa and the tree, he had suddenly become a great supporter of his son's friend, and when they were younger Drogo was often hiding his face in his hands at his father's 'sound advice'. Twisting in his saddle, Kíli looked to Nori, who was watching Bilbo and Bofur finish bickering with a wry smile. "Nori, what do you intend to call your pony?"
Nori raised his eyebrows. "My pony? She's called Ana."
Bofur and Bilbo were still bickering about hats and feet and a whole array of other things, so Kíli did not bother asking either of them.
The first few days passed much like that, and Kíli enjoyed them immensely. Time was passed with simple conversations, some philosophical but most simply entertaining, and when the cold nights fell they simply burned a bigger fire with the copious amounts of firewood they had brought. There were seven ponies altogether, five for riding and two for supplies, and there was something quite therapeutic about checking over each of them at the end of a long days' walk and making sure that they were safe and happy.
Despite the snow and ice, they made it to Lake-town in good time, entering the town via the long bridge under the cover of darkness. Bard and Bain met them at the gate.
"We heard you wanted to keep your journey quiet," Bard smiled warmly as the dwarves dismounted. "We've arranged for some good stables for your ponies and you're welcome to stay at my house if you want to stay unseen."
"Thank you," Bilbo smiled a little wearily. "We would truly appreciate it."
"Come this way," Bard gestured, before turning to his son. "Bain, take the ponies to the stable."
Bain nodded and began to lead the ponies off as Bard led the dwarves and Bilbo in another direction.
"Most of the townsfolk are asleep," Bard explained quietly. "And I doubt we'll have any trouble even if we are seen."
As it so happened they were not seen, and they were greeted happily at the Bowman's house by Sigrid and Tilda. Apparently, Bard's daughters had been busy.
"There're beds made up in the back room, it's a bit small but they're warm and comfortable." Sigrid explained with a smile as she took the dwarves' coats and passed them to her younger sister to hang up. "We weren't sure you'd get here today but we made supper anyway."
"And lots of it." Tilda added with a friendly smile. "Da says dwarves eat a lot."
"Tilda!" Sigrid pulled an apologetic face at a laughing Kíli as she ushered her sister out of the door.
As Bilbo, Fíli, Kíli, Nori and Bofur sat down to a merry meal with Bard the Bowman and his family, there was another meal taking place in the Lonely Mountain, but it was not so cheerful a gathering.
In a darkened room of an abandoned part of the mountain, four dwarves were gathered around a small table, their faces thrown into shadow by the weak candlelight as they shared a meagre meal.
"So? Are we truly going to go through with it?" the youngest dwarf, a warrior by the name of Sindri asked nervously.
"Of course we are," Balder growled back. "It is the only decent thing to do."
"Decent?" Sindri sat back in his chair. "We were talking about restoring our people's honour and greatness but this…this is just murder."
"Did you expect to take control of the once great kingdom of Erebor with no bloodshed, little brother?" Dagr asked with a snide smile. "Perhaps you thought to ask Thorin Oakenshield nicely if he wouldn't mind surrendering his throne to our lord?"
Sindri blushed at his brother's tone. "Not at all. I simply think there is a difference between killing a king and killing…"
"The next king?" Einar frowned, though he looked a little amused. "I don't follow your logic, Sindri."
Shuffling uncomfortably, Sindri explained himself. "Have any of you met the younger nephew? He is like a child in his innocence-"
"Innocence?" Balder spat, "That brat is most certainly not innocent! Living with the halfling has twisted his mind beyond repair – he is a traitor to our race. Look at the friendships he has with the elves - that should tell you all you need to know."
"Nevertheless, it matters not." Dagr insisted smoothly. "The whelp will die with the others. It has already been arranged – we ourselves have leave to depart in the morning."
"What is our story?" Einar asked, reaching for a hunk of dripping meat.
"We are going to visit Balder's mother and kin at the settlement by Lake Evendim. Our years of service to Dain have indeed gained us his trust – there is no one who should know that our allegiances lie elsewhere." Dagr explained.
"So we kill the travellers on the road and then we return to the Lonely Mountain, preferably before the news reaches Oakenshield…" Sindri mused. "We help the others into the mountain, we take down Oakenshield and we take power… does the latter part of that plan sound a little vague to anyone else?"
"It will be difficult, yes, but it can be done!" Einar pounded his fist on the table and Sindri restrained himself from rolling his eyes. The red haired dwarf was always so melodramatic.
"Sindri is right," Dagr admitted, and a glow of pride washed over the younger sibling. "We need more details before we can safely act on the later stages. This is not to be a suicide mission, after all."
"Wait," Sindri leant forward in his chair and pointed at Balder. "The halfling twisted the younger prince's mind, did he not?"
"In a manner of speaking," Balder raised his bushy black eyebrows. "He does not think like a regular dwarf."
"And he is far softer," Sindri murmured, a smile spreading across his cheeks at his idea. "What if we could twist his mind further?"
"We could use him," Dagr realised, rubbing his jaw. "That, little brother, is not altogether a terrible plan."
"I think it is!" Einar snorted. "How on earth are you expecting to do that?"
Sindri shrugged and his brother jumped in.
"It may not be easy but it will be done," Dagr declared, grinning darkly. "He is soft…he is weak… It will be done."
So…that doesn't sound good ;) Do you think they might be underestimating our Kíli? Plus, I wonder if anyone has a vague idea who these guys are, there's a clue at the beginning of the chapter but I'm leaving things purposefully vague at the moment ;) I hope you enjoyed that chapter, there should be a little more action in the next :D
May the road rise to meet you is an old Irish blessing, I believe, and one that I like quite a lot. I couldn't think of something else to say and it seemed to fit, so yeah, there it is.
I've always imagined Fíli as rather calm and quite understanding, and I've never thought he would begrudge Kíli the attention Thorin bestowed on him. Still, I thought it would be interesting to bring it up just to explore it a little here. Another note to add is that Thorin will soon get off the self-pity train. It seems out of character to write and probably to read but I can't imagine him feeling anything else in this situation. He'll be back to his stubborn self soon.
Thanks for reading, I hope you'll take a moment to review this chapter and let me know what you think, I really, truly appreciate it.
