Hey guys! This is my first Hobbit fanfic! I'm really excited to start this, as I LOVE The Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit, and have for over 12 years (since I was 6).
This story will focus on the lives of Fíli and Kíli, especially, and Thorin. It will be full of hurt/comfort and angst, because I like to write things like that :P But it will also have its fair share of humor, adventure, and heart-felt, NON-SLASH, familial love. It will follow throughout the entirety of Fíli and Kíli's lives. I will use aspects from both Tolkien's work and Peter Jackson's recent adaptation. I will try to make it as historically correct (according to Tolkien) as I can. I hope you like it:)
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit.
Thorin was nervous. He impatiently paced back and forth outside the oak doors which held his sister, Dís. She was in delicate condition, preparing to birth a child. Thorin's first, and likely only, heir.
The noises filtering through the room did nothing to soothe his troubled heart. Dís was the last of his direct kin. He loved her with all of his being, and he knew that losing her would be the key to his unraveling. He couldn't bear to lose any more than he had already.
"Calm down, laddie. At this rate, you'll run holes into the ground. Come, sit. She'll be alright, as will your little niece or nephew." Balin, Thorin's old friend said, motioning for his king to take a rest. The years did not treat Balin well. Exposure to such sorrow and hardship had aged him a great deal. His face crinkled into a warm, consoling smile, as Thorin sat next to him with a sigh.
"How long is this… labor supposed to last?" Dwalin, Balin's younger brother grunted.
"It is quite a process, dear brother. A delicate process indeed. Much patience is needed at a time like this. Now hush, and wait." Balin replied.
Dwalin huffed, and folded his large arms across his broad chest in annoyance. Balin smiled in amusement. Thorin simply continued to stare at the door, willing it to open.
After what seemed a lifetime of waiting, the doors creaked open. Out stepped Óin, a local herbalist and healer.
"My King, you may see her now." He said with a small, respectful bow.
Thorin slowly rose, anxiety flooding him. Balin stood, giving him a reassuring pat on the back. Dwalin also stood, and gave a stout nod to his lifelong friend.
The dethroned king held his head high, striding into the medical ward, fully prepared to meet his heir.
Nursemaids bowed as Thorin entered the room, but his eyes were only set on his sister, and the tiny bundle she had wrapped in her arms. Dís's husband, Aldín, greeted him with a firm embrace.
"She's done it." He whispered in excitement.
It was rare that a mother would survive childbirth, especially after the trek to Ered Luin. Many dwarvish women perished as they were exposed to different ailments transmitted from the Men of the Blue Mountains.
Thorin beamed as he came to the bedside of his beloved sister, Aldín following close behind.
Dís was flushed and covered in a light sheen of sweat, but she smiled as she gazed down at the tiny being in her arms.
"Thorin, meet your new nephew, Fíli, next in line to the throne of Erebor." Dís said, placing the bairn gently into his strong arms.
The infant had golden, downy hair upon his small head. Light blue eyes gazed into Thorin's piercing blue ones. Small coos came from his round mouth, as tiny hands grabbed for Thorin's beard.
Fíli.
Thorin smiled as he held up his nephew.
"He has the hair of his father, yet the features of his uncle and grandfather. He truly is of Durin's line." Balin had entered the room, as had Dwalin. As Balin spoke, his voice resounding with surety throughout the room, Thorin's chest swelled with pride.
"That he does." Dís spoke. "If it does you any comfort, dear brother, when Fíli came into the world, he cried a fair amount. It means he is healthy." She looked to Óin for assurance, and he nodded, smiling.
"Yes, My Lady. He is very healthy. He will be a fine warrior and king one day." Óin stated.
"Thank you, Óin, son of Gróin, for taking good care of my sister." said Thorin.
The herbalist nodded. "I shall take my leave."
Thorin looked around the room, his kin surrounding him, a brand new child resting in his arms. One day, he would take his nephew, and reclaim Erebor for his people. This child would make a more than suitable king. He would grow to be strong. Resilient. Like his uncle.
To Thorin, Fíli was much more than simply an heir. He was family.
He would protect him with his life.
There you go! I hope you guys like it! I will also be adding quotes from J.R.R. Tolkien himself to this story. These quotes are from letters to his two sons. They are simply beautiful. I remember one of them addressing his older son, concerning his younger, who often got into a lot of trouble. As I read this, I couldn't help but think of Fíli and Kíli. I will cite each of the quotes at the end of the chapter if there are any. If you'd like to know where I got some of these sources, it is in a book called The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien. It's a remarkable book.
Next up: the birth of Kíli! :)
Please review! :D