Guys, You're lucky! I caught a horrible flu so double update this week. Enjoy! ;)

Dwalin turned to leave the deep caverns where they had laid Thorin to rest as soon as he had composed himself enough to face the lads and their still dire condition. He owed it to his sword-brother to watch over his sister-sons, make sure they were alright.

"Cousin." A voice stopped him in his tracks. He squared his shoulders as he waited for Dain to catch up with him.

"Cousin, I hear the lads are recovering?" The red-haired dwarf-lord spoke in a voice that belied something else on his mind.

"No thanks to yer healers." Dwalin glared at the other, crossing his arms in front of him because Lord of the Iron Hills or not, he remembered how Dain had once struggled with his first battle axe.

He felt a little guilty when genuine hurt flashed through Dain's eyes. He had never been one for the subtle art of political talk and such that Thorin took pride in and had made sure Fili would learn too. Dain was first and foremost a warrior and Dwalin had always found it easier to talk as equals with him.

"Ye know as well as I do that those blasted elves have skills that our healers can only dream of. Mahal's hammer strike them for being so secretive about it, more lives might have been saved otherwise." Dain then told him.

Dwalin nodded, sighing. "Forgive me cousin. Things have happened that should never have come to pass. Old warriors like me find it hard when there is none to blame."

Dain nodded with a sigh, clapping the taller of the two on the shoulder. "I know. I find myself wondering if this Mountain is truly worth the price we paid." It was odd to see the otherwise merry Lord of the Iron Hills so subdued.

"Thorin was convinced of it." Dwalin muttered.

"So he was." Dain nodded. "And yet, I've heard whispers. They say he was not himself before the battle?"

Dwalin found that the tears he had refused to shed were burning in his eyes once more. "He wasn't. Mind the gold Dain. The dragon has cursed it." In his mind's eye he saw Thorin again, staggering under the madness. He had hurt to see him once again wearing that crown, when he had been laid to rest the Arkenstone on his chest. Perhaps it was just as well that he should guard both those burdens in death.

"You're talking of the gold sickness. Come now, Dwalin, surely you don't believe in that nonsense." Dain squinted at him and chuckled.

"I have seen it Cousin Dain. I saw what it did. But with the Arkenstone buried, perhaps you are right and the danger is gone." Dwalin steadily held the others gaze, hoping he would heed his warning.

Dain snorted then. "Laddie, even if it did exist, it will not make a fool of this dwarf. I will not be taken by such a thing that no axe nor sword can fight. In fact, I am to the treasury in a moment, I want to be rid of that poncey King and his friends and Balin and the others agreed to bring him his silly stones so that it might be the end of that. I will take care of it personally. Poor Fili will have enough to worry about once he has woken."

Dwalin looked at him and could not conceal his worry. But before he could speak, Dain chuckled again. "You will see, cousin. Fairytales do not scare me and I will prove to you that you should not fear them either."

He slapped Dwalin's shoulder again. "A veteran of Azanulbizar should not worry about old ghosts!" And then he was off, leaving Dwalin with a sinking feeling in his gut.

When he stepped into the tent, his heart dropped to find Oin and an elf-healer standing over Fili's cot. In fact, he felt his blood surge like it would just before a battle. "What is wrong with the lad?" He barked, making the girl who had chosen that moment to walk in behind him with a steaming bowl of water jump.

"He woke." She said when Oin either ignored him or truly had not heard and the elf shot him a glare before going back to his examination. "But he has become feverish." She had swollen red eyes, clearly having cried and it made Dwalin's heart drop.

His eyes went to Kili and the elf by his side shot him a smile that he would have found irritating if he had not been so worried. "Kili is stable. Though a long way from waking." She addressed him calmly. "And Fili will be well soon too. I have seen the spider's poison and the things it does to the body when purged. He will get through this."

"The main-worry is the lad's moving." Oin chimed in, making Dwalin once again wonder about the true extent of his deafness. "There is no draught we can give him for pain or rest if we are to cleanse his body but he has started to move about a fair deal."

He went back to discuss possible approaches with the elf, when Dwalin stepped closer to actually be able to get a glimpse of Fili.

At the sight he sighed, feeling incredibly old suddenly. He had seen this before. The fever, the sweat, the cramped limbs and the shallow panting of breath were the poison perhaps, but the distress the lad was in and how agitated he appeared even if unconscious, was rather familiar.

He stepped to his side and laid a gentle, tattooed hand on the lad's quaking shoulder drawing back when he flinched at the touch, crying out weakly. "There is nothing your draughts or remedies can do for this." He then stated and looked up to meet Oin's knowing eyes. "And if I were to hold him down, things would be worse."

The healer reluctantly nodded in agreement and seeming to understand, convinced the elf to turn and check on Kili.

"What is wrong with him, master dwarf?" The girl's voice spoke up then when they had left, satisfied that they had done what they could.

Dwalin sat on the edge of Fili's cot, looking at the way he grimaced and muttered in his dreams, how his hands clenched in the coverings. "Battle does this." He said before turning to her. "Go see to your family, lass. I'll see him through this."

He waited, heard her hesitate before leaving and then turned back to Fili. His mind flashed back to the moment he had last seen him, when Thorin had sent them off to the caverns. They should have known then that they were sending them to their deaths.

The old warrior glanced at the elf, to find that she was chanting lowly, eyes closed, hand on Kili's forehead once again.

Then he let the sob escape his throat that he had been holding in for so long. He could not help but see in his mind's eye how the cursed white orc had dragged the elder of the brothers out by the scruff of his neck, lifting him up like a trophy.

He remembered how the lad had been unable to fight, had only weakly kicked and floundered. Dwalin had known then. His soul had refused to acknowledge the reality of what was about to happen, but he had known.

It would be to his everlasting shame that he had turned away. All the had seen, all he had done on the battlefield but he could not watch helplessly as the boy he had taken under his wing as soon as he was old enough to lift a sword and long before that, when Thorin had proudly presented his first-born nephew; as he was about to be… He simply could not bare it.

Never would he fail either of the lads again, he vowed silently then. He had brought enough shame upon himself, having sworn to protect the line of Durin with shield and body. Instead, Fili had almost been killed while he watched on.

He could not know what they had done to Fili inside those tunnels, but he could give a good guess. He would not have gone down without a fight. The cuts and bruises that were starting to yellow were testament to that.

There would not have been time for elaborate torture, but Dwalin knew enough about orcs to know that they would always find time to play with those who fell into their clutches.

There was one thing that he knew often helped those who fought nightmares after battles. He did not have Thorin's voice, but it was all he had to offer.

In a low voice under his breath, he began to hum an old tune he remembered his own mother used to sing for him as a child. He thought he remembered Dis singing it to her young sons too. First he was not sure if Fili would even hear, but when he once more tried to place a hand on his shoulder, softly, he did not flinch.

He continued to hum, not confident enough with the old lyrics to sing them, but the melody he remembered well enough. They had said not to move him, but the old warrior thought he needed to know he was not alone and so risked carefully lifting him so he could sit behind him, cradling him, in arms made for battle, like the child he had once known.

He rubbed small circles across his charge's upper back, careful of the injury when he made a sound too low to be a whimper, but not quite a groan. Fili clutched at fistfuls of his tunic when he made to move away, apparently aware he was not alone if still caught in his nightmares. So he stayed.

"You'll be alright, my lad." Dwalin told him, wiping at his eyes with his free fist roughly, because Mahal forbid someone might walk in on his lapse in strength. "You'll both be alright." He would make sure of it, as long as there was breath left in his body.

Sigrid did not know where to go. Without the immediate responsibility of looking after Fili she felt quite lost. She had gotten herself a bowl of thin stew and spoken to some of the other survivors for a while. Their immediate concerns were about shelter and food and few even dared mention the winter months ahead of them.

Her father had been so busy, trying to gather supplies and get Dale defensible until the winter truly hit, but it was him she needed right then. She had tried her best to reassure them, but she felt inadequate in assuaging their fears.

She made for the elf-camp nearby as the sun was descending, knowing that he was often there negotiating with the Elvenking for aid. Though the elf had been more open to the talks, he was still cold and hard to convince. Her father seemed to think he would be able to reason with him though.

"Da!" She called when she instead found him in a heated discussion with the red-bearded dwarf-leader she had caught glimpses of.

He cast her a distracted smile, but extended his arm for her to step into.

"If you send the elves away, you are sentencing my people to starvation." He then turned back to the dwarf.

"They have what they came for, I want them from Erebor's doorstep. It's not my concern if you lot don't know how to take care of yerself." The dwarf groused.

"I thought you were Lord of another mountain? When did you take charge here?" Bard quite angrily demanded and Sigrid gulped, understanding that this argument had been going on for a while.

The dwarf blustered, then turned away. "This will not be forgotten, Master Bowman." He barked over his shoulder.

"I will have to find the white-haired one and speak to him. Balin, I think?" Bard sighed and turned to look at his daughter. "I don't know why this one thinks himself the head-negotiator suddenly."

Sigrid shrugged, just as ignorant to the dwarven hierarchy as he was. She curled closer under his arm, hugging into her father's chest like she had been wont to do as a child.

"What is the matter? Are the…" He did not finish when she just shook her head. "No, they're still recovering as well as is to be expected. I just… I miss home." It was not quite what she felt, but she could not put into words how she was struggling to catch up with the turn their lives had taken.

Bard, thankfully seemed to understand and squeezed her a little, resting his chin on her head. "We all do. If things go well, we will have a new home soon though. Even if we have a few lean months ahead of us."

She returned to the tent when her father was called away once again and found Balin talking with the warrior who was sitting on the edge of Fili's cot, large hands gently rearranging his blankets and then resting a hand on his head protectively.

For a moment Sigrid hesitated, feeling like an intruder. The warrior must have heard her though, because he looked up and got to his feet, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Balin turned to face her as well.

"Master Dwarf, my father has been looking to speak to you." She addressed him after giving them both a nod. It was not like there was time to curtsey everyone when things needed to be done.

"Is everything alright, lassie?" The white-haired dwarf frowned at her.

"Yes,… well, no. He has been speaking to… forgive me, the… one who rode in on the boar?" She felt herself blush in embarrassment because she should have asked her father about that.

"Dain? He was to give Thranduil those stones he was owed. We agreed I would speak to Bard."

"He… well, apparently he wants to be rid of the elves and they are the only ones who can help us with supplies for the winter?" It came out as a question because she did not want to get involved more than she had to.

Balin did not speak but his eyes narrowed. "I see." He eventually noted and turned to Dwalin exchanging looks.

"He went into the treasury after…." The warrior told him, trailing off in the end and casting a glance at Fili who Sigrid saw with some relief appeared to be sleeping peacefully and no longer had the flush of fever high on his cheeks.

"I will speak to your father, lass. And my brother here shall track down Dain to see what this is about." He put a gloved hand on her arm, patting it. "We have no intention of leaving your people to fend for yourselves."

With that she was left alone again, though Dwalin seemed reluctant to leave Fili's side and gave her a sharp look. "Take care of him." He cast a glance over at Tauriel, who was yet to leave Kili's side. "I'll be back." Then he ducked out too.

Sigrid moved back to her spot, feeling more unsure of herself than ever. What would become of them all? She hesitated but then took a hold of Fili's hand once more. All they could do was keep hope and keep doing everything they could to survive.

She found him sitting on a stool in the corner by himself, hunched over, his head in his hands. The light outside had started to dim and his brother was only getting worse. The fever would not let up and the pain must be excruciating.

"I made you some tea." She addressed him gently but it still startled him.

He stared at her for a moment and then quickly rubbed his hands over his face as if to rid himself of fatigue. It was too late, she had seen the remnants of tears. "Thank you." He nonetheless tried to smile at her as he took the cup gratefully.

He took a sip and looked at her startled. "This is strong morning brew."

She smiled and nodded, leaning against the wall. "It will help keep you awake." At his strange look she felt the need to elaborate. "When Bain or Tilda catch a cold, this is what keeps me going as I take care of them."

He nodded and took another drink watching her over the rim of the cup. "You'll be a good mother one day." He then said before dropping his eyes to the floor suddenly looking shy.

Sigrid laughed to hide her blush but quickly grew serious. "I don't know about that, I only did what I had to."

"We all do." Fili glanced up at her, finished the tea and stared at the empty cup with eyes she recognized; eyes that were much older than they should be. She saw them every day in the looking glass.

"When my brother was born," He then spoke without looking at her, "none expected him to live. He was so small, barely breathing and I was too young to understand."

Sigrid said nothing, knowing from experience when a person simply needed to be listened to. She had always been good at that, at letting people talk away their troubles.

"I insisted I wanted to hold him and started bawling when they would not let me. Eventually, my ma though exhausted, made Oin pass him to me. I think she thought I should at least get a moment with my little brother if he was not long for the world. I'm still surprised they did, I could have dropped him but maybe they really thought it did not matter anymore." He put the cup down next to his feet, casting a glance over to the door through which his brother was being treated by Oin.

"Uncle was behind me, helping me hold him the right way though, I think. He was tiny and all quiet, barely moved. But when I spoke to him, he opened his eyes and looked at me." He was still addressing the floor though his eyes flickered to her afterwards.

"I told him I would protect him and always be there for him because that was what big brothers did and that he would never be alone if I could help it and I remember how he smiled at me even as a newborn. I swear I remember that more than anything even if others may say I was too young to really remember and that newborns can barely see far enough to recognise who holds them."

Sigrid smiled gently and nodded. "My ma died when she birthed Tilda. I was there too."

He nodded at her to continue, fiddling with a small knife he had pulled out of nowhere between his hands, performing absentminded tricks with it.

"Well, I remember when the midwife passed her to me and sent me out of the room, Da was already kneeling by the bed clutching Ma's hand and I didn't understand… didn't want to understand what was happening because when Bain had been born I only remembered the happiness." She paused, watching his quick fingers for a moment as the knife disappeared before slipping again out of its hiding place.

"So there I sat, with this little life in my arms and I just knew that I would do everything for my siblings." She finished in nearly a whisper.

Fili stilled his nervous play with the knife and shoved it into a concealed sheath in his borrowed clothes. "I would die for my brother." He said and then cast a long desperate look at the door once again. "I should have protected him. I should have gone after him."

Sigrid moved to kneel in front of him then, startling both herself and the dwarf. "We do the best we can, Fili. That is all we can do." She told him, grasping his big hands in hers and blushing when she realized that she had addressed him by his name for the first time.

He looked at her in surprise but did not shake off her hands, instead squeezed them. He swallowed heavily. "Thank you." He breathed and she found herself smiling at him with more warmth than she had ever felt for anyone who was not part of her family. She understood his plight only all too well.

"I didn't do anything."

He returned the smile and it reached deep into the pit of her stomach. She had not expected such a smile from one so quiet and filled with worries such as he was. "You listened. I'm not used to speaking to someone like this." He told her.

She had to clear her throat, embarrassment suddenly reeling its head when she realized that they barely knew each other enough for such intimate talks. "I am happy to listen whenever you need it." She told him nonetheless and made to get up with a last squeeze of his fingers.

He did not let go though and pulled her back down so they remained at eye-level a little longer. "If ever I can return the favour, I will." He told her earnestly, blue eyes boring into hers.

It left her speechless for a moment. None ever thought she might need an ear since she herself was usually the one who did the listening. It struck her that a stranger such as he was might see it more than her own family though he had far greater things to worry about.

"I thank you…Fili" She tried out his name again as she rose and found him looking up at her with the hint of a cheeky smirk that she thought she had seen on his brother when they had first arrived in their house.

"No, it is I who is in your debt, Sigrid." He told her.

Feeling the blush about to bloom on her face again, she nodded curtly and turned to see if the others had need of her.

tbc...