He never imagined that the first thing they would do after reclaiming Erebor would be to barricade it up again, and yet here he was; straining to lift broad stones across the entrance on Thorin's orders.
Thorin, who stalked the deserted halls muttering under his breath, Thorin, who had grown distant and reclusive since re-entering the mountain, Thorin, who had succumbed to Durin's downfall, to dragon sickness.
Fíli had seen it when he chased the golden light into the mountain and found his uncle wondering amongst the treasure; the conviction and passion that had lit his eyes for so long was gone, replaced with a hollow possessiveness. Fíli had felt it in the air; the undefinable heaviness that seemed to caress all that glittered, it cloaked his uncle in a veil of disease and Fíli felt his heart break apart at the sight.
Yet still he lifted each stone into place because maybe, just maybe, if Thorin felt the gold was truly safe his uncle would come back to them. But this wasn't hope. This was the avoidance of agonising despair and so with each stone placed between the dwarves and the world beyond the lie crystalized.
But it was Kíli who couldn't lie to himself like the others did. His heart too recklessly fierce Kíli still believed that his uncle could be reasoned with, and so when Thorin returned to inspect the refortifications Kíli dropped the cart he bore to step forward and plead his case. But Thorin's mind would not be swayed and Kíli had stormed away, pushing past the others and out of the mountain into the cold night.
"Kíli!" Fíli's anguished voice had called out but it was drowned by Thorin's own booming voice.
"Go then! Crawl back to the humans that you would defend before your own kin!" The sound resounded around the cavernous halls but still Kíli did not turn and the remaining dwarves looked at each other in sorrow, a silent tear trailing down Ori's cheek.
Fíli did not know what to do. The choice had been easy enough when it had been between his brother and the mountain, but to split his loyalties between his brother and his uncle... that was unfathomable.
As if sensing his waving heart Thorin rounded on Fíli. "Your brother has betrayed us. If he will not protect the birthright of our people then he is of no use to Erebor and he is of no value to me." Thorin made to turn away and Fíli threw caution to the wind, feeling his hope bleed out as he did.
"Uncle," he said, his voice painstakingly steady. "If you banish him we are one less Dwarf to protect what we have come so far to reclaim, let me go to him and make him see sense; his confusion will surly pass as his health improves." He didn't waste effort on trying to evoke Thorin's compassion but was surprised when, for the briefest moment, he thought he saw something of his uncle stir behind the hardened eyes. Fíli felt his foolish heart spark in his chest and he clenched his fists once more.
Thorin appraised his nephew sternly before clapping a broad hand across his back. "You honour me my sister-son and one day you will honour Erebor as King. Go to him and remind him why we have come so far."
Fíli bit back his despair and nodded, hurrying out into the dark after his brother.
Kíli had not gone a long way, for all his anger he could not endure to be far from his kin. Fíli found him by a crumbling deposit of fallen boulders, angrily picking up smaller stones and hurling them as far from the mountain as he could, crying out with the exertion and built up frustration.
"Kí." Fíli laid a soothing hand on his shoulder.
"How could he do this Fí? Thorin spoke for so long of the dragon sickness; he hated it for what it did to Thrór. And Thranduil; Thorin was prepared to sacrifice this quest rather than forgive him for turning his back on Erebor, but now Thorin would do the same to the people of Dale. It just…it makes no sense!" Kíli turned to Fíli, his eyes pleading for his older brother to put his world to rights. It remained Fíli of when Kíli had been younger and they had lived with their mother in the Blue Mountains amongst many other Dwarves. Kíli had been ridiculed for his un-dwarfish features and it had always been his big brother who he ran to first, and Fíli had stemmed his little brother's tears before they plotted and executed their revenge. But Fíli was powerless to fix this hurt.
"Kíli, Thorin is not in his right mind, he doesn't know what he says." Fíli tried.
Kíli scoffed bitterly. "He knows what he says."
"What makes you believe this?"
Kíli fingered the rock in his hand. "Because it's true, all of what Thorin says. He was forced to barter the gold of his people to buy our freedom. Nobody should be forced to buy their freedom." He threw the rock. "But Thorin would have kept his promise out of compassion; because he knew in his heart what it was like to lose his home and watch his people be slaughtered."
"He needs us Kí." Fíli whispered. "He needs us not to lose faith in him. We cannot push him further into this sickness. Your words to him were foolhardy."
Kíli turned to him, a look of shock on his moonlit face. "Brother, how can you say that when you saw how the survivors of Laketown suffer?"
"I said foolhardy but I didn't say untrue." Fíli said bitterly, picking up his own stone and throwing it out into the night. "I don't know what to do either Kí, I feel as if my heart is at war with itself; one part wants to damn Thorin and give them the blasted gold because whatever the punishment he might dispense the people of Laketown don't deserve to suffer anymore at our hand. But it's not in me to stand against Thorin on such a matter, he raised us and I just can't betray that."
The brothers stayed silent for a while as they threw their stones until a sudden irrational and cheeky grin stole over Kíli's face as he turned to his brother.
"Speaking of your heart dearest older brother, is there anything else troubling it, or perhaps anyone?" Kíli nudged him playfully.
"Brave words from a dwarf who asked an elf that he had just met if she loved him while he had his head on a pile of walnuts." Fíli shoved back harder, somewhat confused by the flush in his cheeks and grateful for the night shadows.
"I'll have you know that my delirious poetry was devastatingly effective."
"What!" Fíli spluttered. "But she's an elf!"
"And definitely female although, I haven't checked properly, yet." Kíli said slyly.
Fíli nearly chocked.
"What pretty words did you use to charm the lovely lass I saw you sitting by the lake with?"
"Her name's Sigrid." Fíli said distractedly, still trying to figure out exactly when his idiot brother had strayed so far as to have fallen in love with an elf of all things.
Kíli let out a bark of laughter, clutching his stomach as he doubled over when Fíli realized in horror the hidden intent of his brother's brazen comment and just how successful it had been.
Fíli felt the flush in his cheeks deepen. "It was one conversation, nothing more will come of it and if you value what little beard you have you'll never mention it again." he said gruffly.
Kíli, still guffawing held up his hands in surrender. "I value your life too much brother, Bard is a dragon slayer after all." Fíli dived on him, wrestling him to the ground with only the slightest intent of causing any real damage.
They were too busy to hear the whistle of the arrow that flew through the air but they saw it land with a thud right where Fíli's hand had been not a moment before.
Fíli scrambled to his feet pulling hunting knives from his forearms as he looked franticly left and right. Kíli too had jumped up but having discarded his weapons within Erebor he stood armed with only a rock in his hand.
Fíli glanced over and motioned to him. "Kíli get down!"
Kíli shook his head doggedly. "What! No, just toss me a blade!"
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Dwarf." Came a cool, velvety voice from the darkness.
Fíli groaned inwardly; Elves.
The unnaturally tall creatures came forth from the shadows, bows drawn and Fíli recognised their leader as the Mirkwood guard who had stripped him of his own weapons before imprisoning them not so long ago.
"So this is how Dwarves are made, how crude and yet, not unexpected." The leader smirked.
Fíli sneered at him. "Leave this mountain now Elfling."
The elf ignored him. "So you came by new weapons I see, somewhat of an upgrade from the last ones but I guess you had much too choose from."
Fíli realised with alarm what the elf was doing; He had been sent on a reconnaissance mission to scout out the Dwarf's defences. Fíli drew himself up and squared his shoulders, an image of fierce Dwarven pride. "Do not try to fool us with false words elf we know why you are here and I will not say this again; leave now!" He saw the bow arms of the elves tense and readied himself to dive and slash, anticipating how he might throw Kíli the blade at his back. But the elf held up a hand and in one synchronised motion the elves withdrew their arrows and sheathed them.
"We will not waste our arrows tonight." and it was understood by all that tomorrow would be another matter. The elves melted back into the shadows from which they had come leaving the two dwarves bristling.
Fíli turned to his brother feeling the dread and despair settle over him again. "We'd better get back before the entrance is completely blocked." Kíli nodded solemnly and together they headed back towards the small glow of light that marked the only hole left in the entrance to the fortress of Erebor.
When morning came Fíli found himself amongst the treasure hoards searching fruitlessly for the Arkenstone. It was only when a still muttering Thorin left that Fíli allowed himself to slump down against a gold suit of armour and buried his head in his hands.
He needed someone to tell him what to do; he needed someone to tell him what the right course of action was, to guide his ragged heart. And of all the faces his mind could have conjured; Kíli's, his mother's, Bilbo's, even Balin's, it was Sigrid's that appeared to ease his troubles.
Appearing like the illusion she was, Sigrid settled herself silently upon a pile of gold just as she had done on the rock by the lake. Fíli didn't know if it was crippling exhaustion or some strange outcome of the sickness that lay upon the surrounding treasure but he accepted her presence in his imagination, even welcomed it.
"So, why am I here Fíli?" Sigrid's voice was soft but one eyebrow was slightly raised.
Fíli looked at her and the feeling of relief that had made him share his soul with her at the Lake that night washed over him again, and suddenly the idea of talking to an imaginary version of her wasn't strange, just comforting.
"I was hoping you would tell me," He sighed. "since you are a part of me." And he was intrigued that he liked how that sounded, Kíli must have been rubbing off on him.
"We'll then," She said matter-of-factly. "I'd say that I'm here because you need to make a decision and the closest you've come to feeling like you knew who you where and what you wanted was when you were with me."
Fíli blinked. "Imaginary you doesn't hold back does she."
"Imaginary me is you." She reminded him with a smile.
"Right." He rubbed his eyes, exhausted by how hard his mind was working right now.
The imaginary Sigrid reached out and gently squeezed his hands, the echoing memory of her touch almost enough to make it real. "Make the right decision Fíli, even if it is the hardest thing you have ever done, even if it goes against everything you know, because you will have to live with the consequences and others might die by them."
Fíli looked into the eyes he remembered; intoxicatingly expressive and beautiful in their pain. "I don't think I'm strong enough to do it." He whispered.
"You defied him once to do the right thing and you can do it again and be the better dwarf for it. But if you don't believe that you can do it then neither can I."
He wanted her to believe in him, for this to be real but he knew that she had probably already forgotten her conversation with a dwarf by the burning lake. He was about to speak when a distant shouting reached him from the halls above and just like that the illusion was shattered and he was alone and empty handed in a room full of gold.
"Fíli! Fíli Lad where are you?" Bofur came sprinting onto one of the raised platforms, his always precisely placed hat askew.
"Down here Bofur," Fíli reluctantly lifted himself from the ground. "How can I be of service?"
"Lad there's an army of elves and men approaching from Dale, hundreds of them. Thorin wants everyone armed and at the parapet now."
Fíli froze knowing he was too late, he had waited too long to do the right thing. As the truth came to him the icy fingers of dread laced their way around the throat and stole his breath; they were about to go to war and they were gravely outnumbered.
AN: Thanks for the support; your comments, follows, favourites and love have kept me dreaming and writing. So let's make an agreement: If you don't stop then I won't stop. Agreed?
Bonus: If this fic had a soundtrack other than (obviously) the Hobbit soundtrack, it would definitely include James Bay-Scars