Fili had ached for Thorin for as long as he could remember. A dull, ever-present pain that clinched around his heart and often made it hard for him to breathe in his uncle's presence once he'd come of age. He'd never spoken to anyone about it because he never understood what his fascination with Thorin really was.

He'd been embarrassed at first—even a young dwarf knew it wasn't common for members of the same family to harbor such strong feelings towards one another, especially not when they were both males. He loved Kili and his mother, but it was a different love than he felt for Thorin, and the realization of what he was feeling made him think there had to be something wrong with him. But as much as he stuffed away the emotional upheaval he felt when Thorin was around away, it never changed the true nature of his feelings.

Since he and Kili had lost their father when they were mere babes, Dis had always made a strong effort to speak of him often through the years. She regaled them with stories of how they met, about his work at the forge and his travels and friendship with Thorin. She spoke of his kindness and his beauty—something she said had been divided between Fili and Kili, with Fili inheriting their father's shining mane of gold, and his brother his dark, soulful eyes.

Over the years, it had been common for Fili to find his mother weeping alone in her room after sharing her memories with him and Kili. The tears rolled soundlessly down her face as she clutched the beads their father had worn in his hair and beard up until the day he died.

She'd never parted with them, the beads always on her person in one way or another for Fili's whole life. At least until the day she insisted that Fili and Kili take them along on their journey for luck. He'd asked her about it once when he was younger—why she carried them everywhere with her—and she'd merely said she liked to keep their father close to her, and that he would understand when he was older. She'd had the same response when he'd questioned her about her tears.

"One day I hope you to be as truly blessed as your father and I."

He hadn't understood what being blessed had to do with crying and carrying beads around, and he'd said as much to her.

"When you find your cherished One, all will be understood. Until then just keep hope inside you that Aule will see fit to grant you that which will make your soul whole and your heart sing."

It hadn't been until he was older that he truly understood the reasoning behind his mother's words, and the importance of their meaning. Uncle Balin—as they called him then—had been the one to break the news that not all dwarves were lucky enough to find the other half of their heart. Balin himself had never found his One nor felt the tug of even having one waiting for him. At the time Fili had believed that wasn't a bad thing since he'd only witnessed the heartbreak and tears his mother suffered after losing his father, her One.

The fates had a strange way of bringing things full circle in an almost unrelenting, cruel way though, and Fili had never felt the sting cut so deep as he did on that night in Bag End. There was a part of him that wished he was that naive younger version of himself again, the dwarf who neither believed nor wished for his One to appear. Things would have surely been different for him had his overpowering love and desire for Thorin been nothing more than a schoolboy crush, perhaps in the way Kili fell in and out of love with a new girl or boy at least once a month, sometimes once a week.

But alas, Fili's heart and soul seemed unable to switch the gears of change inside his head or his chest. Thorin would always be the other half he longed for whether their hearts were joined or not. As it stood, the latter was the inevitable probability, and Fili had to find a way to get past the pain that thrummed inside him because of it.

Kili's overbearing, protective stance wasn't doing Fili any favors either. He believed his brother's bad attitude towards Thorin was meant to be a show of solidarity so Fili couldn't be completely disappointed in Kili. He didn't like that Fili was hurting—understandable considering the closeness they'd always shared.

Kili was stubborn and opinionated when he felt strongly about something, and since he couldn't help Fili with bandages, potions or retaliation, he was trying hard to help in other ways—just not ways that were of an advantage to Fili. He couldn't imagine not having Kili at his side, but as Thorin had said often when they were growing up, at some point they would both have to stand on their own.

Fili smothered the hopeless smile he felt all the way to his toes as he crouched down to search his pack. His fingers wrapped around a small leather pouch, the familiarity warming his insides. He scouted his surroundings for any spying or passing-by dwarves, but found none so he let his grin overwhelm his face as he finally pulled the pouch from his pack and emptied its contents.

His thumb moved carefully over the dull blade, mapping out every tiny knick and imperfection from years of being hauled around. It was only a knife, and a very small one at that. It was big enough to make a young dwarfling's heart soar with excitement and secrecy, but not large enough to damage anything bigger than an insect.

"This has to be our secret, Fili. If your mother finds out she will probably tan both our hides."

Fili remembered the moment as if it were just yesterday; the conspiratory grin on Thorin's face as he pressed the knife into Fili's small hand. It had been a late birthday gift, and Fili could never known then that it would become so important to him one day.

Since he'd recognized his love for Thorin, Fili had carried the knife everywhere; in his pocket or his bag or sometimes tucked away inside his sock where it remained warm and soothing for the entire day. It was exactly like his mother had said—it was akin to keeping a small part of Thorin with him. And even though it hadn't been used by his uncle—or worn like his father's beads—it had been forged by Thorin with his own hands especially for Fili.

He supposed it was an unmanly thing to do, some would even argue undwarfly as well since dwarves weren't known for their romantic inclinations. They were monogamous creatures once they settled down, but romance wasn't in abundance in the dwarf community.

Fili had never cared for what the norm was though, had never concerned himself with what others thought or said. He had three important people in his life, and as long as they loved him, all was right with the world. Of course that train of thought brought out other prospects that Fili had been trying to avoid circling his brain. If Thorin didn't love Fili as his One, he would still love Fili nonetheless, would he not?

He wasn't sure what he'd do if things never improved between them, if they were unable to return to the reassuring relationship they'd had before Fili confessed his feelings. It had only been a couple days since Fili's heart had been damaged at Bag End, and Thorin had often been gone months at a time without seeing Fili and Kili, but it seemed different now. And if—when—they reclaimed Erebor, Fili wondered if his and Thorin's relationship would dwindle to nothing because Thorin had been so put off by Fili's affections.

It would be the worst thing in the world if Fili became second in command and had to have dealings with Thorin every day, but they were unable to speak civilly or without discomfort with each other. Fili had resigned himself to never committing himself to another, and he had no intentions of even thinking about such a thing, but Thorin would surely find someone to spend his life with. How would Fili handle that? He hoped it would be with respect and dignity, but everything seemed dependent on whether Thorin still loved him as his nephew or had given him up completely.

Bowing his head, Fili stroked his thumb over the full length of the knife before clenching it tightly in his hand. It was a habit he'd used frequently over the years when he needed strength or comfort in dealing with something he had to keep to himself. Kili had never faltered in being a wonderful brother, but there were rare things Fili had never confided in him—his feelings for Thorin being number one on the list, though Kili had eventually figured it out on his own. He doubted his brother had ever understood the depth of his love for Thorin—until the last year, at least.

Their mother had always said Fili was Kili's gentle, quiet strength, but there were days—like the past two—when Fili struggled to find his own purpose and means of staying afloat in the rapidly flowing river that was his heart and emotions. Those were the times that the knife had become his safety blanket.

Fili allowed himself to think the knife held a small part of Thorin, not literally of course, but in a way that was more emotional than physical. It was silly, but even telling himself as much had never quelled his desire to hold it and have it with him. And whether it was brilliantly mad to believe it was Thorin offering Fili his comfort through it or not was of no consequence on how he continued to cling to the gift.

"I trust things are calm between your brother and yourself again?"

Fili's boots scrambled for purchase on the slippery ground that was more mud than dirt, barely saving himself from tipping over and onto his arse when the voice he even heard in his dreams was suddenly upon him. He stuffed the knife in his pocket then stood slowly, composing himself and quieting the stir of panic that settled in his belly.

"Yes," he replied with as much vigor as he could muster. He fought to mask his face in indifference while the muscle in his jaw twitched beneath the surface and stormy emotion hid behind eyes he hoped were innocent of such. "It was just a difference of opinion between brothers. It should not have been carried out where it was. Apologies, Uncle."

Thorin crossed his arms over his chest, his face remaining stony serious and his gaze blazing straight through Fili. Fili had to avert his eyes, fully aware of the likelihood of drowning in Thorin's icy blues. It was not the observation of a dwarf moving forward and on from a situation that was impossible, but one of a heart still crumbling inside its chest and looking for some semblance of hope.

"There's no room for uncivilized behavior here, Fili. We may be a mismatched and misvalued lot, but a cohesive unit we must stay. I cannot have fighting or taunting amongst the company. There will be far enough dissension from others along the way…we do not need it from within, as well."

"I've already apologized, and it was not a fight, merely a mix of words and emotions that got out of hand."

"And landed Kili on his arse."

"I assure you that it won't happen again." Fili struggled to hold Thorin's steely gaze, but there was a small part of him—no doubt fueled by delusion and stubborn denial—that believed there was a renewed softness to Thorin's face, and an edging of emotions ghosting behind his eyes.

He knew wishes and dreams colored things in the wrong way when they became lost and diluted by hard-pressed hope. Emotions muddied the waters of reality in a means of cushioning the heart from the trauma of what truly was. Fili desperately needed to remain in the here and now.

He slid a hand into his pocket, clutching the knife tightly while he passed the discomfort of the situation with the pretense of tapping caked mud from his boots.

Thorin cleared his throat. "You are princes, Fili…heirs to the throne of Erebor and the Durin name. Your behavior must match your standing, and as heir apparent, you need to maintain some sense and decorum."

When Fili could find no words, Thorin frowned then rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. He quickly pulled it back as if he'd been burned. A sudden, overwhelming need for contact almost threw Fili into Thorin's arms at that moment. Only the sharp sting of rejection held him back.

When Fili and Kili had been growing up, Thorin had been very demonstrative and affectionate with them, tender or rough hugs—whichever were needed at the time—arms slung around shoulders. He'd displayed no hesitation in pulling them into his lap had one life crisis or another come screaming down on them, or just to simply show his pride in one of their accomplishments.

Kili's lack of attention and inability to sit still had been far worse while in school, and when Thorin had been around he'd taken an active role in calming Kili's urges and frustrations. His voice had always soothed them both—as well as scared the daylights out of them if he became angry—and Kili had done better under Thorin's guidance.

Thorin had always ensured that Fili had his own time of complete attention, usually in the form of a pep talk, a much needed press of foreheads, or just quiet time between uncle and nephew. Fili had relished those times, and yearned for them when Thorin was away.

When the first signs of puberty hit Fili like a sword to the gut, Thorin's absence had become physically painful. He'd become aggressive and wild for a time—behavior he neither understood nor could explain or control. His mother's wishes and advice had been disregarded, and Kili's very presence ignored or verbally objected to. In general, Fili had lost control of all his senses and with them, his common sense.

The desires of his body became desperate, and without a father figure—or even uncle at the time—he'd believed something was truly wrong with him. Yet he never confided his fears to anyone, instead avoiding his kin and seeking release for what he believed to be a physical deformity in the abusive arms of an older dwarf.

His mother had expressed her concerns about the time he spent away from home, the halt of his school attendance, even going as far as threatening to summon Thorin. Who was to know that was the one thing—the only thing—that could have calmed and soothed the raging hormones and overwhelming emotions that wracked and tormented Fili.

Thorin's return had been nothing if not miraculous in that Fili's symptoms had simply fallen away the moment Thorin was near. Dis had sequestered his uncle upon his arrival while Fili sat outside the door, knees pulled tight to his chest, head and heart reeling and churning in a combination of confusion and relief.

The conversation between brother and sister hadn't taken long, Fili's mother exiting the room behind Thorin, tears trailing down her cheeks. Despite the soothing warmth he felt inside, Fili feared he was in far more trouble than he'd expected.

After taking Dis in his arms and softly kissing her cheek, Thorin turned to Fili, his blue eyes soft with concern, jaw tight beneath his dark stubble. He'd firmly pulled Fili into his arms, then right there in their tiny home in the middle of their even tinier entryway, Fili's heart had shattered in a fiery explosion of understanding and love.

He clung to Thorin, his own tears buried in the soft fur of his uncle's collar, fingers white-knuckled with the force of his desperation. Thorin had murmured words of normalcy and coming of age, but Fili barely listened. All he heard was the pounding of his own heart in a matching rhythm to Thorin's. All he felt was muscled arms holding and soothing him. All he knew was he would love Thorin with everything he was for the rest of his life.

The embrace hadn't lasted long, but since Fili would have been content for it to never end, to never be without Thorin's touch ever again, he hadn't been the best judge of time. Thorin had looked deep into Fili's eyes, his lips curling up into a sweet smile.

"It appears you are beginning the change from dwarfling to adult. I pray I would have been here to counsel you…I offer my apologies for missing such an important event in your young life. I'm here now, and your mother and I believe a small trip might be in order. Is that agreeable with you?"

Fili couldn't remember if he'd spoken at all in the next hour after Thorin's return, but they'd set off on their short trip, packs filled to the brim with food and bedrolls. They'd slept under the stars, just him and Thorin. His uncle had spoken of his coming of age at Erebor, of lost kin, of sweet first kisses and confused first times.

Thorin had asked Fili if he had yet sought out any comfort for his physical needs. Fili had paused, the internal workings of his mind filling the air with a heavy silence. He'd come to the realization that the dwarf who had touched him, kissed him, taken him to his bed, had done so in a way that had been wrong—that Fili's inexperience and desperate need had been used against him. Thorin had caught his hesitation though, had urged the tale from Fili's ashamed heart and out into the open.

Rage had overtaken Thorin's face, his skin reddening, eyes turning stormy and enflamed. Fili had fliched back, afraid he was the cause of Thorin's anger. He couldn't have been more wrong. It was the first time he'd seen Thorin cry, the first time the intelligent eyes of his uncle overflowed, the first time Fili saw steely resolve and determination turn vulnerable and fearful.

He'd dragged Fili into his arms again, smothering him against his strong chest while soundless sobs vibrated between them. Thorin spoke of sorrow for what had happened, apologies Fili didn't think needed to be spoken at all, and revenge to be sought post haste.

Thorin had held Fili close from light to darkness and back to light again. He expressed his rage with the disgusting dwarf who had taken advantage of Fili, but assured him he was not at fault.

It was the only time Fili had almost spilled out his heart to Thorin, had nearly confessed how Thorin made him feel inside his heart, inside his head, inside the entirety that was Fili. But he hadn't, still unsure of the true meaning of his love. He wondered now if divulging it then would have saved Fili the heartbreak that was his current life. Perhaps it would have given Thorin a little more time to see and appreciate Fili's true emotional connection and devotion to him.

But Fili knew living in the past was not his path. He was intelligent enough to realize the yearnings of a dwarfling who never outgrew his wishes and longings could not be changed or cast aside. And he would never want that for himself anyhow. His love for Thorin was a part of him, a part that had always made him try harder, strive to be better. Thorin reflected all of Fili's desires, his accomplishments, his hopes and his dreams.

No, Fili wouldn't have had it any other way.

"Fili?"

Peering up into Thorin's squinted blue eyes and having his uncle look at him with such concern blurred Fili's past with his present. He blinked to clear the fog just as Thorin wrapped a hand around his forearm.

"Are you all right? You have the look of...Fili, are you unwell?"

Fili found his voice again in a rush of apologies and embarrassments. "No. My apologies. I seem to have too much on my mind...nothing as to the worries on yours, of course...I'm sorry I'm taking up your time...please excuse me, Thorin..."

Thorin tightened his grip, bringing to mind the smattering of bruises Fili had received at Thorin's hands; bruises well-deserved and thoroughly enjoyed in the heat of passion and need. Fili had given as good as he received, but he'd been proud of the reminders of his and Thorin's couplings.

"You should get some rest. Can't have you falling ill during our journey. Do you wish me to send Oin to look you over? He may have some herbs or—"

Again Fili objected but his heart was light as he basked in the frantic worry Thorin was showering upon him. Of course, he'd more than likely do the same for everyone...

"I promise I'm fine…just a little tired and light-headed. It's my own fault since I haven't eaten yet."

With a slow unclenching of fingers, Thorin released Fili's arm, and Fili felt the loss like ice to bare flesh.

"My intent was to put you and Kili on first watch, but I'll assign that to Bofur and Bifur. Please have your meal and take better care of yourself."

"We can still do our watch, I'm not here to be coddled, Uncle, nor do I expect any special treatment."

"And you'll not receive any. The company does not need you dozing off during your shift. I intended to send Kili and Dwalin hunting in the early hours before we depart. He can rest the night and be more attentive if we proceed in such a way."

"Dwalin? He is a great warrior but not hunter. I always accompany Kili."

"Your brother needs to become more independent, as do you from him."

Confusion blocked all the good feelings Fili had been settling into. "I don't believe that to be the case. Kili has no dependence on me."

Thorin's brow furrowed. "I'm not separating the two of you, merely searching for ways to better everyone's duties, and determine where their strengths lie. You may take last watch with Balin."

Fili's thoughts batted back and forth between speaking what was truly on his mind or merely keeping the peace as had always been the case. Had Thorin's intentions seemed either fair or wise, Fili would have surely held his tongue.

"May I be frank?"

Thorin shifted his stance, crossing his arms over his chest as he squared his shoulders. Fili saw the hint of emotion in his eyes disappear as Thorin reestablished himself from uncle to king. "I encourage it with my men."

"I beg you not to punish Kili for things you hold against me. He may be my brother and your nephew, but he also has great potential to be a warrior."

"You speak of things I am already aware, and I'm not punishing Kili, or you for that matter. My instructions are not of a personal nature. You know I strive to keep the two separate."

"Yes, I do, but we three share more than a professional relationship, Uncle."

"Those ties have no bearing on this journey, Fili. The sooner we all adjust to that fact, the better."

Pain flashed in Fili's palm, the knife tucked in his pocket becoming damp between his fingers. "I understand. May I be the one to give Kili your new instructions?"

Thorin appeared to consider the idea, his body still strong but the tightness of his jaw loosening. "If you wish, but I expect he'll insist on speaking to me anyhow."

"I suspect the same."

With a final nod and rapid blinking of his eyes, Thorin turned away. Fili watched him go, posture-perfect as always, but the softening of his gaze as he appeared about to speak had been unmistakable.

Fili crouched in front of his pack again, his lungs seeking more air than his throat could seem to provide. He felt like he couldn't breathe, the tingle of emotion behind his eyes forcing him to scrub at his face.

He pulled his hand from his pocket, the slickness of the knife telling him what he already knew. The cut wasn't deep and it was beyond Fili's intellectual capacity to understand how such a dull blade could slice through his calloused skin. He swept an old cloth from his pack across the wound, then pressed hard to stop the flow of blood.

It was no more than a scratch, but Kili would have questions—he always had questions. Fili wrapped the cloth tightly around his hand, tucking the end into his sleeve so it would remain in place. Had he not already been ashamed of his behavior, he would have slipped into his bedroll and feigned sleep since he was in no mood to either eat or speak to anyone. But he had responsibilities, just as had always been the case, and despite Thorin's disapproval of the team Fili and Kili considered themselves to be, Fili still believed they were better that way than apart.

After placing the knife back in the leather pouch then into his pack, Fili willed away the useless memories of Thorin and forced himself to his feet. He would eat his meal with his new dwarf brothers, speak to Kili in the most reasonable way possible, then carry out the rest of Thorin's wishes. He'd do as he was told, would obey and accept what needed to be done and what he needed do—but he certainly wouldn't like it.

oOoOoOoOo

They had both just tucked themselves into their bedrolls, the night air chilly as they pressed their backs together for warmth. Fili had broken the news of Thorin's wishes while they are around the fire with the slim hope Kili wouldn't overreact if others were around. He'd been correct, at least until they left the warmth of the fire.

"You instruct me to not act in a juvenile manner, yet is that not exactly what he is doing in forcing our separation?"

"That's not his intention, at least not in the way you're thinking."

"You don't believe that. I can read your heart in your eyes despite your attempt to shut me out."

"My beliefs or wishes are not important, Kili, at least not in this situation. Thorin is our leader, and it is our job to follow him. He has experience and intelligence, and neither of us will give him any reason to be disappointed. Do you understand what I am saying?"

"I understand you are defending actions that you otherwise would question had it been anyone else."

Fili sighed, pulling his blanket tighter around him. He pressed the palm of his hand to his thigh, the biting pain of his cut soothing his overtired mind. "Please, brother. Can you just make the attempt? If not out of duty or kinship, then for me?"

He felt Kili shift against him, the second, larger blanket they were sharing pulling away from Fili. Kili settled down again, the tip of his nose pressing into Fili's neck, his bursts of breath warming Fili's skin.

"It is not my intention to disappoint or disobey...usually, but I feel anger towards him that I don't quite understand. Do you not feel the same, Fee?"

Reaching behind his back, Fili secured one of Kili's hands between his own. He hauled Kili closer, bringing his hand and arm over himself then pressing their hands to his chest.

"I feel that and so much more."

A soft hush fell over the brothers and Fili let his eyes slip closed, happy to have the darkness take him.

"Is he your One without doubt?" Kili had obviously not finished.

"You know he is."

With a sigh, Kili pressed his forehead to Fili's shoulder. "And did mother not speak often to us about finding our father and the love that bound them, that still binds her to him, because they were One with each other."

"Of course."

"Then how is it that Thorin can deny you if you are really his One?"

That was the biggest question Fili had been struggling with—without resolution.

"I can't answer that. Life isn't always fair or predictable. As in anything else, there might be a discrepancy between the feelings of one soul mate to the other."

Fili just wanted to sleep, just forget his heart, his pain—forget Thorin for only a few hours.

Kili's voice was softer, filled with emotion. "Did he tell you he loved you when we were in Ered Luin?"

"Kili."

"Answer me, brother. I promise to dismiss the subject if you just offer me the truth."

"I am and have always been truthful with you. And your claim of dismissal is certainly not believable."

"I'll drop it for now then. I swear to Aule. Did he confess his love?"

After swallowing past the lump in his throat, Fili barely recognized the hoarse murmur of his voice. "Yes...he did."

"Was it simply during a moment of passion?"

"I thought we were dropping the subject now. It's late, Kili—"

"It's all part of the same question so what I said doesn't count until we're done."

"Then in the spirit of you breaking your word, I humbly decline to answer your question as I see no purpose to it."

Kili poked Fili in the chest and knocked their heads together. Had he always been such a persistent pest? Fili definitely did not need anyone else to answer that question.

"I shall just assume I'm right then. It is told that speaking words of love during those moments is common, but more likely than not, involves no honesty."

Oh, for the love of Aule! "Who have you been talking to?"

"Bofur among others. No specifics, brother, just casual words between friends. Though I quite like Bofur." Kili paused and Fili wasn't sure he wanted to know exactly what he was getting at.

"So Thorin loves you when he lies with you? That's no testament of love at all."

Fili's brain exploded or maybe it was his heart—when Thorin was around Fili often found it hard to tell the difference. He didn't know what it was or where it came from, except it swept a rolling anger through his body. He struggled out from under Kili's arm, then shoved himself to a sitting position.

"It was not only at those times! You're stepping far to close to being over the line of respectability and privacy, Kili."

"I didn't know there was such a line between us." Kili's eyes were nearly as black as the darkness that surrounded them. Fili could just make out the purse of his lips and determination of his gaze under the light of the half moon.

"Gods!" Fili threaded his clothed hand over his disheveled hair. "I prefer you when you run amuck and I have to reel you in, to this over-concerned brother act."

"I'm always concerned."

Fili's heart softened and slowed. "I didn't mean it that way."

"Do you need me to look at your hand?" Kili wrapped his fingers around Fili's wrist, thumb brushing over the dried blood on the outside of the cloth.

"No. It's just a scratch."

Kili ignored Fili's claim. He unwrapped the length of material and tossed it to the ground beside him. "Did it happen because of him? Do you still carry his gift?"

"How do you know that? Thorin is not responsible…"

Fili's words trailed off as he watched Kili reach behind his back, grabbing something from his pack as Fili simply remained still. It wasn't the first time one if them had tended to the other's injuries, and surely it wouldn't be the last. Kili's attention and touch was a soothing breath across the wrecked recesses of Fili's mind.

He found himself staring in Thorin's direction as his uncle lay to the left of the fire. His eyes were open, his focus appearing to be on Fili until he snapped them closed. Fili flinched when cool liquid dribbled over his palm.

Kili poured a few more drops of water over Fili's cut, dabbing it with a clean tunic from his pack then wrapping a clean strip of the same fabric around Fili's hand.

"I was always jealous of that knife. I even snuck it away a few times to play with it."

"You did? It's nothing more than a trinket really."

"Trinkets don't slice into your skin."

"It's nothing, Kee. And I don't believe Thorin would have trusted you with a knife at such a young age."

Kili laughed softly. It was a peaceful sound to Fili's ears after a long, stressful day. "He was probably right, but he did make me my first bow once I'd begged him for weeks to do so."

"That he did." Fili said. He flexed his arm, checking to be sure the makeshift bandage wouldn't come loose during the night. "Can we sleep now? Dawn will be here soon."

With a nod, Kili returned his canteen to his pack and settled onto his back, pulling the blankets up to his chin. "You still feel the same for him despite—"

"I'm sure I always will. I'm just…I just need you to let me handle this in the only way I know how."

"Even if it means living with a broken heart?"

Fili twisted so he faced his brother. "Yes, even then. Dying from a broken heart is only a legend. I think I'll learn to live with it, and the pain will lessen."

Kili turned his head, his smile sweet but sad under the moonlight. "Then you have my permission to use my shoulder, my arms and my heart whenever you need them."

Fili reached over and tucked Kili's unruly locks behind his ear. "And I am grateful for all of you. Can we sleep now?"

Yes," Kili said. He flipped so his back was to Fili. "Before our king is yelling at us again."

"Kili."

"Teasing, brother. Are you still going to keep me warm or will you let me freeze to death?"

Fili flicked Kili on the top of the head, then wrapped an arm around his waist and snuggled in closer. "I don't believe warriors are suppose to cuddle."

"But we've not seen battle yet so it doesn't count."

"You always have an answer, don't you?"

Kili laughed before a yawn rattled his body and he pushed a little closer to Fili. "Sleep well. Perhaps tomorrow will bring more brightness into your life."

"I always have you to light up my day, Kee."