Summary: In which this story is not quite over ... and Bilbo and Kili talk a lot.
The next few weeks were busy beyond all reckoning, for there were many dead and countless wounded, all requiring tending, and of course even the healthiest among them needed food and clothing and all the necessities of life. The dwarves and men and elves came early to an accord, for Thranduil and the Master were not so outrageous in their demands now that Thorin had Dáin and his army at his back, and Thorin too was more inclined to make concessions since it could not be denied that without the assistance from Mirkwood and Lake-Town, the battle against the orcs and wargs would surely have been lost.
Thorin and Dáin quickly moved their people into the mountain, and there Bilbo learned firsthand what great and industrious workers dwarves could be. Within the very first days the forges were restored and from then they ran all the day and night while at the same time hundreds of dwarves traded their swords for brooms and mops and rags, and cleaned the great halls of Erebor until the floors gleamed and the walls glittered.
All the while more and more dwarves kept arriving, for before the battle Thorin's ravens had not only traveled to the Iron Hills but also to dwarf settlements throughout Middle Earth; more ravens sent the happy news of victory after the battle was done and now each day new refugees streamed in, and they brought with them food and cloth and medicine and metals and wood and news of long-lost kin. Then too there was drink from the cellars of the men and the elves, and the parties at night were very festive indeed. Bilbo had never realized there were so very many dwarves in all the world, and they all seemed to be converging on Erebor!
"It will not last," Balin told him, when he found Bilbo at the gate one day staring wide-eyed at the steady stream of dwarves arriving. "Most of Dáin's folk will return to the Iron Hills. They are settled and safe there, and I think Dáin is not so eager to stay here and sit second to his cousin. He is Lord of the Iron Hills, and that is practically King. Nor will all of these other dwarves find life within the mountain to their taste once the excitement fades. They have been too long out in the world. It will settle down after the coronation, mark my words."
Bilbo was very much looking forward to the coronation, for it was to be a grand and glorious affair, and Bilbo imagined he would be the first hobbit in history to attend such an event. "Attend?" Fili said when he heard this, scoffing. "You shall have a place of honor, Mr. Baggins! We should never have retaken the mountain were it not for your soft feet and keen eyes."
Bilbo did not argue, for this was certainly true, though too they owed gratitude to every dwarf and man and elf who had fought in the great battle, and of course Kili had played an even larger part by bringing Smaug down. "Don't worry about Kili," Fili said mysteriously. "He shall not be forgotten."
This would certainly be true even if there were to be no coronation, for Kili's name was on everyone's lips; they called him Kili Dragonslayer now, quite to his discomfort. Privately Bilbo thought Kili was having some trouble adjusting to the sudden great changes in his life; he was often absent from meals, though he was welcome at every table now, and Bilbo would find him instead tucked away up on one of the distant parapets, his bow in his hand.
"Here," Bilbo said one day, a little out of the breath from climbing the many stairs. "I baked you a seedcake." It had taken some doing, too, for the small army of cooks in the kitchen was none too happy to have a hobbit underfoot, not when there were thousands of dwarves to feed, and doing so kept them busy from morning to night; but Bilbo had insisted and in the end the cooks had acceded, as Bilbo was favored by the king-to-be-crowned, and a notorious burglar besides.
Kili smiled — he smiled much more easily now, to Bilbo's great delight — and accepted it. "It is as good as I remember, Mr. Baggins," Kili said when he had finished it.
"It should be better," Bilbo said, a little huffily, "for it is fresh out of the oven and has not spent any time at all in my pocket."
"But we have not spent the day cold and wet," Kili said, "which made the first cake taste all the more delicious."
"Indeed it did," Bilbo conceded. "But it was still not as good as this one." Kili nodded, and then they sat in silence for a few moments. The sun was hanging large and low in the sky, and what there was of the day's warmth was quickly evaporating. Bilbo huddled a little into his borrowed coat. "Winter is more bitter here," he said, "than in the Shire."
"It would not be so in Dale or Lake-Town, I think," said Kili. "But it is always colder up on a mountain. Are you uncomfortable? We need not stay out."
"I think I shall last a little while longer yet," Bilbo said. "You prefer it here, and I would like to spend a little time with you, if I might. I have hardly seen you of late."
"They have kept me very busy." Kili frowned just a bit as he said this. It was true that he had been kept busy, but the work with which he had been tasked could hardly have been familiar to him. He spent great portions of his day now being tutored, for though he knew how to read, his education otherwise had been sorely lacking; a small army of tutors had been tasked by Balin to teach Kili to write and do maths and learn a dizzying amount of history (in which the name Durin seemed to feature very heavily across generations — Bilbo had been greatly puzzled by this until he had learnt that there had been six dwarves who had borne the name).
So too Kili spent many hours training with Dwalin and some of the Iron Hills warriors to bring his swordplay up to the level Thorin deemed appropriate for a dwarf of the line of Durin. What little time he had left, he often spent at the archery range, but there he was surrounded by eager students and curious onlookers alike, and Bilbo did not think he found it altogether very enjoyable. As for the manual labor to which he was accustomed and might even have preferred for its familiarity, he had been banned from any such work at Thorin's firm insistence, even though Thorin himself would spend a few hours a day seeing to the restoration of the mountain. "They must learn to look at Kili differently," Fili had said in explanation, "and they cannot do that if he is on his hands and knees scrubbing the floors."
In truth Bilbo did not think any dwarf could help but to look at Kili differently, so greatly had his appearance changed. Indeed, the first time Bilbo had seen Kili after he had been released from his sickbed, he had hardly recognized him, dressed as he was in garments finer than anything the elves had ever gifted him, and with his hair neatly combed and for the first time braided and beaded. His beard too had grown in quite a bit, for Thorin no longer required him to shave it (had in truth practically forbidden it, Bilbo thought), and soon it would be long enough to begin to shape.
"How are you finding it?" Bilbo said finally, when the silence grew too long for his taste. "With Thorin as King Under the Mountain?"
"He is not yet crowned," Kili said mildly. "And no one treats him any differently."
This was true. Bilbo was not quite sure what image he had held of a king, but Thorin was not living up to it, whatever it was; he seemed much the same as he always had been: gruff and brusque and irritable, but also sly and sporadically even witty, and very familiar still with members of the Company and Dáin, though much less so with others. Dáin's dwarves would occasionally bow when they remembered to do so, but mostly everyone treated Thorin like the Hobbiton shirrif: someone to be politely deferred to, but not revered.
"They treat you differently," Bilbo said.
Kili nodded, eyebrows drawn a bit together in a small scowl. "Dáin's dwarves will follow me around sometimes, asking to hear the story of the dragon. I pass them off to Ori if I can. He never tires of telling it. But sometimes they insist on hearing it from me."
"You could," Bilbo suggested gently, "tell them no."
Kili frowned at this. "I suppose." He did not sound very convinced at his ability to do this. "The dwarves from Ered Luin are not so comfortable with me as Dáin's folk."
"Well," Bilbo said, "they knew when you were khazd khuv."
"I still am," Kili said, glancing sharply at Bilbo. "That has not changed, though Thorin has chosen to ignore it. But he cannot simply make it disappear. The circumstances of my birth remain."
"Dáin's folk do not seem to care a whit about the circumstances of your birth."
"No," Kili said. He looked at Bilbo from the corner of his eye, and rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Dáin has offered me a place in his court."
Bilbo had surmised as much, for he had seen Dáin several times speaking to Kili, gesticulating rather grandly and taking no particular care to keep his voice down, and he had also introduced Kili to several dwarf maidens from the Iron Hills, all of whom seemed very much in awe of the Dragon Slayer, and none of whom were wed. True, they did not blush and curtsey as did maidens in the Shire; rather they spoke of archery and swordsmanship and work at the forges, but a shy admiring glance was the same whether cast by hobbit or dwarf, and Bilbo had seen many of those thrown Kili's way. Then too, Dáin had made sure to introduce Kili to any of his kin who had made the journey to Erebor, and Kili found himself suddenly part of a large group of Li cousins, who were a rather boisterous and hairy lot, for all that they were minor lords of the Iron Hills.
"Will you accept the position?" asked Bilbo curiously.
"I–" Kili began, then stopped and sighed. "I do not know. Dáin is gracious to offer, but he intends that I marry one of his nieces, and I have never even considered such a thing. It was not a possibility, before. In any event, I am not sure I could accept without Thorin's permission, and I doubt he would grant it."
Bilbo was not at all so certain, for it seemed clear to him that Thorin had no intention of continuing to act as Kili's shemor in any capacity whatsoever, and it was even possible that marrying Kili off to an Iron Hills princess would give Thorin an easy way to guarantee that Kili was free for once and for all of the laws of khazd khuv. It was clear too that Thorin very much desired that outcome, and Fili too, but they were equally desirous that Kili remain close at hand. Fili in particular seemed determined to make up for 77 years of missed opportunities for brotherhood; he spent as much time with Kili as could be managed, and never called Kili "brother" once in conversation if twice would do.
"Well," Bilbo said, "I imagine such questions will have to wait until after the coronation."
Kili nodded distractedly, chewing at his lip. He did not look particularly happy at the prospect of being married off to an Iron Hills princess; Bilbo supposed that it must be unsettling to consider leaving behind everyone and everything one knew, even for such an improvement in status. But then again, Bilbo himself had left the Shire and it had worked out rather well in the end, though there had certainly been many difficult times in the middle.
"It is odd to be here," Kili said presently, looking out over the walls to the valley below. "Thorin would tell tales of Erebor when we were dwarflings, and it was time for Fili to go to bed. Fili's room was near to mine, and Thorin spoke just loudly enough that I could hear, if I lay still and was very quiet." He looked at Bilbo, brows knit. "It seems certain now that he meant for me to overhear, but back then I thought I was listening to something I shouldn't. I felt guilty about it, though not so much, I suppose, as to confess."
"Or to stop listening?"
"Or to stop listening," Kili said with a small grimace. "Thorin was not such a good storyteller as Balin, but I preferred his stories nonetheless. Balin's tales were full of battle and glorious death. Thorin would tell stories of his childhood here, with his brother and sister—"
"Your mother," Bilbo prompted.
Kili chewed on his lip some more and looked around nervously, as if to reassure himself no one could overhear. "He did not name her so. It was many years before I realized that she who bore me was the same as the dwarf lass in the stories."
"Your mother," Bilbo repeated, scowling a bit himself. "You need have no fear of saying it out loud, you know."
"Perhaps," Kili said, but he did not look convinced.
"There is no perhaps about it," Bilbo said. "Thorin claims you as his nephew—"
"He does not," Kili said sharply. "Do not misconstrue what he has done. He has acknowledged that I am of Durin's blood, nothing more."
Bilbo thought this was rather severely understating the case, and moreover did not think there was any possible way to misconstrue what Thorin had done, no matter what words he had spoken or not spoken. Still, Kili's mouth was set in a hard, stubborn line, and there seemed little value to pointing out what was (to Bilbo at least) the obvious, if Kili was determined not to see it for himself. "And Fili?" Bilbo asked instead. "He has been rather vocal in his claiming of you as kin. Every other word out of his mouth is brother."
Kili frowned. "I have noticed."
"You have not responded in kind," Bilbo said, as gently as he could manage, for he knew not whether Kili withheld the endearment deliberately or out of simple discomfort.
"No," Kili said. "I — Fili is free to do as he wishes. He is the crown prince; none will dare decry him for so minor a transgression."
Bilbo sighed. "I do not think he considers it a transgression at all."
"Perhaps not," Kili said. "But that does not make it any less so."
Bilbo frowned. The last dwarf to give up the traditions of khazd khuv, he suspected, would be Kili himself.
Kili looked at him unhappily. "I have displeased you."
"No," Bilbo said. "No, I have displeased myself, I think, by wishing for something far more quickly than would be reasonable to expect. You cannot bake a pie by putting flour and fruit in a pan and willing it to cook. What Thorin and Fili ask of you is no easy thing, whether they see it or not, but you shall be able to give it to them with time. I am quite sure of it."
Kili fingered his bow restlessly. "You expect much from me, Mr. Baggins. I am afraid I am bound to disappoint you."
"Why, now," Bilbo cried, "you should not say such a thing. You should not even think such a thing! You have never and shall never disappoint me. The idea is absurd!"
"Perhaps," Kili said after a moment, sounding as if it was quite the opposite of absurd. "Thorin is the king to be crowned, and thus entitled to my obediance and loyalty, whether I call him shemor or Uncle." He kicked at the ground, eyes low, and then said in a rush, "But Fili would have me be his brother, yet I do not know what that means to him, or how I am to act towards him. It is as if he would have me forget all that has passed, and I — I do not think that is so easily accomplished. He calls me brother, and would link arms with me when we walk, but when I see him I think only that he is Thorin's sister-son, and that I can not risk displeasing or disobeying him, else I will be punished."
"But you will not be," Bilbo said fervently. "Surely you know this by now."
Kili shrugged, looking quite uncomfortable. "I know this. But I do not think I believe it."
Bilbo felt a pang deep in his chest, and would have said more, but that he knew not what he could say to ease Kili's confusion and unease. So instead he patted Kili gently on the arm and continued patting when Kili said nothing in response.
"Archer!" The shout came from the stairs behind them, breaking the tense and unhappy moment. Bilbo and Kili swiveled around, both rather startled, for there had been no noise of footsteps approaching.
"Why, there he is!" It was the twin elves from Rivendell, and they wore identical wide grins as they slipped noiselessly onto the parapet. "The dragon slayer himself!"
"It must have been glorious!" one said, pounding Kili on the back.
"We have not faced a dragon in a thousand years!" said the other, taking his own chance to pound Kili's back. Kili stumbled a little under the force of their blows, but they righted him very cheerfully without pausing for breath, if indeed they ever breathed at all; Bilbo was not quite certain.
"But for that one drake."
"And we did not exactly face him then."
"No, we ran away!"
"It was the only sensible thing to do." Then they both grinned again, and pumped Kili's hand with much enthusiasm. They stood side by side, and Bilbo found that if he squinted just so, he could merge their two images together, so that it appeared there was only one elf speaking, which was rather easier for his brain to deal with.
"We have heard you used the bow we gifted you!"
"We told you it was meant for you!"
"You shall have to tell us all about it!"
Kili was blinking very rapidly. "Elladan," he said finally. "Elrohir. It is good to see you both. Have you come for the coronation?"
"Of course!"
"We would not miss it!"
"And your father?" asked Kili. "Has he come as well?"
"Indeed," said the twin on the left. "He is paying his respects to Thorin now. And then he will speak with Thranduil, for it is not often the King of Mirkwood and Lord of Rivendell are in the same place at the same time."
"I should not be surprised if war breaks out again," the right-hand twin said mischievously. "They disagree about almost everything."
"But come!" said the left-hand twin. "All your friends are here, and they cannot wait to see you, for much has happened since you left Imladris."
"Indeed!" the other twin said. "Come quickly! Lindir is down below, and our sister Arwen as well, and Hesdin and Albrohim and Nerediath and Mellidien!"
"Come!" This they said in unison, and they tugged lightly at Kili's arms, and he was helpless but to follow, though he cast a rather despairing glance at Bilbo. Bilbo for his part was quite happy to have escaped the twins' attention, and waited until they were well gone before trotting quietly down the stairs.
A/N: Apologies for the tardiness of this chapter. I can't believe BOFA is almost here and I haven't finished posting this fic yet. :( We are meandering towards the end, though. Two or three more chapters, I think.
Thank you to everyone who takes the time to comment! Part of the reason this chapter is late is because I reread what I had written in light of some of the very thoughtful feedback I have received, and decided it needed tweaking. (It is unfortunate that year-end deadlines at work did not leave me much time for tweaking.) But keep those comments coming! I think this story is much better for them. And I will reply to them ... eventually.
Thanks to my beta SapphireMusings, who has been holding my hand the entire way.
