Hey guys! I'm sorry about the massive long wait, I've actually moved out to university! I'm in the middle of fresher's week which is absolutely crazy so I'm sorry this has taken so long, I'm utterly exhausted! I'm writing as much as I can, which admittedly isn't much, but I should be able to write more when things settle down.

I apologise for any mistakes here, I'm so tired!

Read. Enjoy. Review.

Chapter Sixty Seven # A Little Erebor Interlude #

"I'm sorry, Jari."

The words fell heavily from Thorin's lips, and the regret he voiced was mournful and true. Orvar and Elin had been friends of his for many long years and it grieved him that the benevolent couple had met so horrific an end. Five long days had passed since the attack, five long days that had weighed heavily on the dwarf King's heart and most probably carved several more lines of grief and worry across his brow.

His people did not deserve this new grief, not after all they had suffered.

"I know…" Jari swallowed, smiling sadly. "I hope you know that the trust and love they had for you as a leader was nothing compared to their appreciation of your friendship."

Had Elin not told him the very same thing not two days before they left for the quest Thorin might have found himself unable to control his emotion – as it was his throat tightened a little. "As I will always appreciate theirs. How are you brothers and sister?"

"The healers are more hopeful than they have been – Auden has been delirious for the last three days, but I would rather have him delirious and awake than see him lying as though he were already… Ari has begun to stir, but he has not woken as of yet." Jari sighed wearily. "Austen is in good health physically, though he says very little, and Aria's coping surprisingly well."

"And yourself? How are you, Jari?"

Jari took a deep breath, and his mournful eyes met Thorin's, catapulting the king down memory lane.

It was second nature now, to open the door every third day to the young blonde dwarf that would knock without fail. At first Thorin had wished to send Jari away, his own crippling grief too awful to bear having another dwarfling in the house (because it was the wrong dwarfling, it was not Kíli, not his brilliant, wonderful, lost baby Kíli) but Dís seemed to draw some comfort from the lad's presence, even if Fíli never opened his bedroom door.

"Good morning." Thorin's response was more instinct than anything else – he barely heard himself say it.

"Good morning." Jari replied with a quick smile, offering up a small dish. "My Ama told me to give this to you."

"Thank you," Thorin nodded and took the dish with gratitude and watched the serene child walk down the hall.

When he thought about it, Thorin supposed that 'child' would shortly prove an inappropriate term for the young dwarf before him – at seventy three years old he was well into the early to middle stages of adolescence. The peaceful lad had always seemed older than his years.

The sound of the knocking was something else he got used to. Three knocks in quick succession, every half an hour or so, with the intermittent "Fíli?" thrown in as well.

However, today something was different.

Knock, knock –

Silence.

Thorin peered down the hall with dulled curiosity, finding to his surprise that Jari was no longer seated in his usual place outside of Fíli's door.

It comforted Thorin to know that Fíli was no longer alone, but it pained him to even think about the words 'Fíli' and 'alone' in the same sentence because Fíli was not supposed to be alone. He was supposed to have his little brother running after him, trailing on his every word because he worshiped him and Fíli was supposed to spoil his baby brother rotten, to the point of them both stumbling into all sorts of trouble.

But he did not.

Kíli was gone.

Thorin wiped all thoughts of his younger (friendly, smiley, lively, lost, lost, lost) nephew from his mind with a twinge of guilt and returned to sweeping the hall. It was an odd little habit of his, and one that he would dislike the public knowing of, but Thorin had always been the one to do the sweeping. His mother insisted that simple chores kept one grounded and kept a royal remembering that one was never too important to get his hands dirty. His mother was right of course, she always was, and Thorin found there was something cathartic about banishing the dirt and dust from the house.

It was several hours later when Jari finally emerged from Fíli's room, and Thorin just happened to be placing the broom back into the nearby closet when the lads appeared.

"Thank you…" Fíli sniffled quietly to his friend.

"Anytime, Fíli." Jari replied with a smile, giving Fíli a brief hug.

Thorin watched his nephew wave slightly and disappear off in the direction of the bathroom. He watched the smile drain from Jari's face and he watched the light seep from the child's eyes.

"Are you alright, lad?" he asked gruffly.

Jari slowly raised his mournful eyes up to meet Thorin's and swallowed. "I… I miss him too."

For a moment, Thorin could not breathe. "I beg your pardon?"

"Kíli…" Jari whispered sorrowfully. "I miss him… He was my friend too. I know Fíli misses him more and I'm trying to help, I'm trying, but I can't make it any better, I don't know what to do!"

Had he any less self-control, Thorin would have had tears in his eyes. "I think you are doing it already."

"I am coping." Jari said finally. "Well or poorly, I cannot say, but I am coping."

"Should you find yourself in need of anything, ask." Thorin kept his voice firm. "The Company Room is open to you and your family at any time."

Jari smiled slightly. "Thank you, Thorin."

"It is truly the least I can do." Thorin promised. "Now, I do not mean to keep you from your siblings for long, but I have a request to make of you."

"I am listening…"

"These items were found where you were attacked." Thorin passed the skilled jeweller a box of trinkets. "The rest has already been identified, but as far as we can tell these did not belong to any in your group. It may be a long shot, but if you could offer some knowledge as to where these items may have come from, or to whom they may have belonged we may be able to track down the orcs sooner."

"I will see what I can discover." Jari promised, resolution shining in his eyes. "I'll do my very best."

"I have no doubt of it."

"Thorin, with everything that's happened, I don't think I've told you… We met Fíli and Kíli and the others on the road, it would have been several months ago, now. I wanted to tell you that they seemed well. Fíli told me of the incident at the house of the skin-changer and he was a little shaken, perhaps, but he was coping and recovering well – far, far better than he did last time. His smile was true and his laugh frequent and Kíli…" Jari gave a small laugh and shook his head slightly. "Kíli was quite simply brilliant… From talking to him I would never have guessed at the things he has suffered – he is healing well. Fíli claimed that Kíli was dealing better than he was, and I am inclined to believe it. They were well."

For a moment, the unexpected update of his nephews' wellbeing took Thorin aback, but he smiled. "Thank you… That is a comfort to hear…"

Jari smiled sadly. "I am glad of it. With your leave, I would like to return to my siblings now – I shall study these with them there."

"Of course," Thorin nodded his head. "I wish them a speedy recovery."

Jari bowed at Thorin. "Thank you, Thorin – your highness."

Thorin inclined his head as Jari left his study, leaving the king alone for a moment. Thorin rubbed his jaw and picked up a pen, hovering it over the inkwell for several seconds before finally deciding to squash the incessant uncertainty of his subconscious. He thought over his wording carefully, writing each and every word with no small amount of hesitant contemplation.

When he was done, Thorin stared down and read and re-read his carefully crafted words. Then he snarled and scrunched the paper into a ball, tossing it into the fire. It was no use. He had surely penned a thousand letters to Thranduil by now, but none seemed to convey his thoughts appropriately. He was disgusted by the idea of the Elvenking even supposing that the King Under the Mountain was asking for aid, but all letters that omitted anything that could be so interpreted had sounded rude and discourteous, something that Thorin was in no position to be toward his powerful, pompous neighbour.

Wondering why he had not just gotten Ori or Balin to write the damned thing, Thorin stood up and rolled his neck. With a nod to the guard standing outside of the door, Thorin headed down the corridor and left the royal wing. Announcing his imminent presence with a knock on Dwalin's door, the king did not wait for an answer before striding in.

"Any news?" Came the instant call from his friend.

"Good morning to you, too." Thorin replied dryly as he strode through Dwalin's chambers.

The bedridden warrior scowled. "I don't see what's so good about it if there's no news."

"The scouts are expected to return any day now."

"If they're still alive. Have you sent word to the elves yet?" Dwalin spat the word out like a curse.

"I have not yet been able to appropriately word a letter."

Dwalin snorted slightly, but when he met Thorin's eyes he was utterly serious. "There must be something I can do of use? And if you tell me 'heal' I'll rip your beard out, king or no."

Smiling wryly, Thorin shook his head. "Unless you wish to aid your brother with the administrative side of-"

"No, thank you." Dwalin sighed heavily. "Next time you see Ori, will you tell him I'm interested in the book he spoke of?"

"Aye, I will." Thorin promised, taking a seat by Dwalin's bed and clearing his throat. "So, my friend... Tell me everything."

"Tell you what?" Dwalin stared up at the ceiling, clearly completely aware of what Thorin meant.

"Do not feign innocence, Dwalin, it does not become you." Thorin said mildly. "Glóin tells me that Miss Elza has visited you for each of the past five days. I was not aware that you were so well acquainted."

Dwalin blushed bright red, and Thorin could see right through his scowl. "Am I not allowed to have friends?"

Thorin raised his eyebrows. "Truly? Are you truly going to use that line? How old are you, eighty? You are allowed to have feelings, Dwalin."

"Don't use my own words against me." The fearless warrior grumbled. "I told you that after Azanulbizar."

"I know," Thorin conceded, "And it was good advice – advice I feel is very applicable in this sense. Stop avoiding my question."

Dwalin sighed and finally met Thorin's eyes. "I like this woman, Thorin. More than I would care to."

"Go on…"

Dwalin frowned slightly, though this time his expression was one of amusement. "Since when are you one for this sort of gossip?"

"Since you became the subject of it." Thorin replied with faux solemnity. "Besides, I have no choice but to interrogate you on the matter."

"What are you talking about?"

"My life is at stake." Thorin kept his voice deadly serious. "Could you imagine what Dís will do to me if she finds out I did not ask you these things?"

For the first time in days, Dwalin threw his head back and laughed. "Aye, I could imagine… Perhaps I should withhold the information, if only to see your little sister dethrone the king of Erebor and take his crown for her own!"

Pretending to be more disgruntled than he was, Thorin sniffed regally. "I think you'll be likely to see such a spectacle in any case, given the events of the last year. I would not put it past my nephews to put a favourable spin on things, but even so I do not think I will leave our reunion unscathed."

Once again Dwalin laughed, a little of the tension leaving his face. "I look forward to it."

"That makes one of us…" Thorin drawled, before finally allowing himself to smile. "I am happy for you, my friend."

Dwalin raised an eyebrow, but though his smile softened, it did not fade. "I never expected this to happen, you know…"

"Aye, I know." Thorin promised him. "It was a shock to all of us - although I should warn you that the others have been placing bets for weeks now as to which particular lady under the mountain has caught your attention."

"The bastards!" Dwalin looked up suddenly. "Who won?"

"Ori, I believe."

"Why does that not surprise me…?" Dwalin muttered. "Did you bet?"

"No, I did not." Thorin assured his closest friend. "She is rather beautiful."

"Aye, she is… It is rather alarming, not being able to control where your thoughts wander in regards to a woman. I have never had trouble with such things before." Dwalin admitted, looking rather more vulnerable than he usually did.

"I have heard." Thorin nodded, having never experienced such a thing first hand. "But you deserve every happiness, Dwalin, and I have heard that falling in love can bring you great joy."

Dwalin raised his eyebrows. "Aye, or great heartbreak."

"You tell me not to use your own words against you, but let me give you some of your own advice once more. Did you not once tell me that only fools refrain from caring for fear of being burnt?"

"Perhaps I am a fool then."

"You are not a fool. You are merely stubborn."

"You're one to talk."

"Aye, but I am not the subject of our discussion."

Dwalin was quiet for a long moment. "Bah… there's too much to be done for me to be so selfish as to-"

"No," Thorin interrupted firmly. "No, Dwalin. You have been my friend – my brother – for countless years. For once in your life, place your own desires as equal to the needs of the kingdom. Would your loyalty to me waver if you allowed yourself to truly pursue a relationship with this woman? I think not. You have time, Dwalin. It is clear that she holds some feelings for you, and you most certainly have feelings for her. This is a chance few now have, Dwalin. Take it – that is an order."

A small smile crept across Dwalin's cheeks, once he had finished glaring. "Thank you, Thorin."

"You are most welcome. Come, tell me of her. I have heard little good news of late…" Thorin asked, allowing a slight beseeching tone to enter his voice.

If he was utterly honest with himself, it was all weighing him down. His kingdom was strengthening every day, but every day the plots and conspiracies around them grew thicker and more deadly. The absence of his nephews and his sister was steadily crushing his heart, and he even found himself missing the company of Nori and Bofur.

Dwalin shook his head, but as ever his ability to read the meaning behind Thorin's words was true and he humoured his king. "I do not know where exactly to begin… She is a fiery lass, with a tongue as sharp as your sister's, though she has less control over her words than Dís does. She has a sharp mind, too, though she cares little for politics or other such academic pursuits."

"So you are a good match." Thorin commented.

"Perhaps…" Dwalin drawled.

The minutes slowly bled into each other, and for a surprisingly long time Thorin was granted peace with his friend. Once Dwalin began to talk there was no stopping him, and there was little doubt in Thorin's mind that his friend's feelings ran far deeper than any passing whim. Thorin may not have ever experienced such a feeling before, but he had seen them many a time.

However, it felt all too soon when the young guard at the door burst into the room.

"Forgive me, your highness, my lord, but the scouts have returned and they bring a prisoner with them!"

"Bring them here!" Dwalin demanded, and Thorin nodded his agreement.

Less than two minutes later, Ehren and his father Joren strode into the room, with grimly triumphant faces. Two others stood behind them, dragging a single prisoner behind them, but it was not an orc.

It was a goblin.

A goblin with the Ironfist crest carved into its hideous forehead.

I know it's short and a filler (and not my best filler) I'm sorry, but I'm in the middle of Fresher's week. I can't promise more very soon, but I'll get the next instalment up ASAP, I promise, and we'll be back in the Shire.

Please let me know what you think!