This chapter was supposed to be from Fili's point of view, but the muse got ahold of that hazelnut espresso some of my wonderful reviewers sent to me and now my laptop is no longer my own. (Augh! Satisfy the muse so that I can get back to Fili's POV!)
The moment he took Kili from his brother and strode from the cave Thorin was filled with a sense of an eerie calm. His mind was clear, sharper if possible than before the mayhem had warped order into catastrophe. The weight settling upon his heart was only the heavier for it, however, for he knew that the frail, limp body in his arms was the result of his mistake; a responsibility that was his alone to bear.
Kili was only a boy; his sister's youngest son. He had sworn to Dis the day before he left that he would protect both her sons with his life, but for Kili there had been an unspoken emphasis. Thorin knew all to well that his nephew was attracted to trouble like a moth to flame. If danger was not in his immediate vicinity, he scouted it out until Fili or another dwarf had to come and rescue him.
Thorin was grateful that Fili had agreed to accompany him on this quest. Admittedly, if his eldest nephew had declined the invitation Thorin may well have ordered him on pain of banishment to tag along and babysit his irrational brother. Fili seemed to have a way of preventing Kili from inciting the worst of hazards, and the younger likewise had a calming effect on the elder whenever he close by. There was a deep, invisible bond between the brothers that Thorin would never fully understand. Indeed, they were nigh inseparable, and so alike were they in their wit and loyalty that Thorin sometimes entertained the thought that Dis had secretly birthed twins.
It was a bond that was never meant to be severed.
In the space of but a few agonizing minutes Thorin had watched helplessly as childhood illusions of safe return were made void against the snarls of an orc's hound, as hope was vanquished in a throe of blood and screams and the sun was blotted out in a wreath of shadow.
When the fateful words had escaped Fili's lips and Kili drew breath no more, Thorin had sprung into action without hesitation. He had sworn to Dis that her sons would return to her alive, and he would see that vow fulfilled. Failure had never been an option.
The sudden transformation from darkness to light was anticipated. Even so, as Thorin leapt from the cave into the garish sunlight he cursed his vision for failing him as the pounding hooves of the elves' horses thundered over the plain. Thorin blinked furiously against the watering in his eyes and allowed himself the pretense that it was only from the stinging and not the grief in his heart that a droplet threatened to escape.
Running footsteps and heavy breathing instantly told him that Fili was at his side, standing by his brother even at the bitter end. The faint streaks of tears would not be passed off as a lie; Fili was not one to hide his sorrow.
It would be folly if he did. His nephews were too close for Thorin to accept any less devotion. Had Fili been the one dying instead, Thorin suspected that Kili would have hunted down every last warg until he too was slain and permitted to rejoin his brother in the afterlife. It was a kinship that was unmatched by any other Thorin had known, and it only confirmed what he had already decided.
Kili would not be permitted to die. Any thought otherwise was out of the question.
With unprecidented skill the elves had drawn their horses in, encircling a tight ring around the dwarves who had mysteriously popped out of the ground. Ten dwarves followed Fili in quick succession, weapons at the ready should their leader require assistance. Even Bilbo trotted up at the last, hands flexing nervously around his short sword, looking torn between awe and the urge to bolt at the drop of a feather.
As the ring of horsemen drew closer Gandalf swept to Thorin's side, his mannerism completely at ease despite the direness of their situation. A nagging suspicion regarding how much the wizard knew crossed Thorin's mind before he batted it away. For the time being there were more important matters at hand.
The helmetted warriors checked their horses with expert precision, arrows strung at their bows but not yet drawn taut. Fili's expression was a mingled of demand, anticipation and the dread of hopes that had yet to be dashed. Thorin took care to ensure his own features were composed, for they were already at the mercy of the elven commander and it would only worsen their situation if he knew of how fervently they desired his help.
One of the elves, who bore a regality which indicated he was a high ranking commander at the least, urged his steed forward. He removed his helmet and regarded the small company of dwarves with a stern, if bemused expression.
"Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror," he greeted formally, his sharp eyes analyzing the battered company with such a keen sense of a discernment that several of the younger dwarves shifted uncomfortably. "For what purpose would a band of dwarves to travel in these parts? You are far from your own land."
"That matter is of no concern to you," Thorin replied tersely, staring the elf down in challenge. "One of my company has been injured. I am ... requesting that he be brought to a healer at once."
If the commander had the impression that Thorin would beg for his help, he would be better off ordering the Lonely Mountain to bow in his presence.
The commander made no such demand of him, rather dismounted from his horse and approached gravely. Fili tensed besides Thorin, and he shared his nephew's discomfort. He would not willingly have entreated the enemy's help, but he had no other choice in this matter.
"How did he come by these injuries?" The commander inquired, his flinty gaze rapidly assessing the wounds. "A warg, by the looks of his shoulder."
"He was indeed wounded by the same wargs you chased off, Lord Elrond," Gandalf supplied.
Thorin's gaze shot up at the title. Lord Elrond? This was no mere commander standing before him, but the ruler of Elvenkind in this land. Thorin realized what shaky ground he was petitioning on, and how fragile Kili's chances were. If the king of the elves refused to help them, there was no cause left. As much as his pride detested the fact, Thorin could not take the risk of losing his favor.
"As for his leg, he stumbled in a ... well, a rabbit hole." Gandalf finished, his words slightly muffled at the end.
Thorin winced slightly at the admission. A grand, heroic demise for a warrior indeed, catching his foot in a rodent den. The elves would never let them hear the end of it.
There was no humor in Elrond's gaze, however, as he pulled back the scarlet rag binding Kili's shoulder and examined the wound. The fresh tang of blood was overwhelming, and Thorin could not detach his mind from the fact that it was his nephew who lay dying after defending him on a quest that he had initiated. He had been the one to request that Fili and Kili join him in this task, and for that Thorin could never forgive himself. Even if Kili had pestered him into madness he should never have allowed them to come.
Elrond's face was clouded with the shadow of doubt and Thorin was prepared to deny the truth before him and order the elf, king or not, to save his nephew by any means neccessary. Rather than proclaim it was too late to even attempt to revive the young dwarf, Elrond indicated for Thorin to set Kili down upon the dried, crinkled grass.
Thorin's grim reluctance was starkly visible in his fiery gaze as he gently laid Kili on the ground, his ready stance daring the healer to proclaim that his nephew had passed on. A lesser being would have cowered at the sight, but Elrond had faced bloodshed and war and knew too well how fiercely the dwarven race protected their own, particularely when their lives of kin were at stake.
Kili's face was frighteningly pale, his eyes now closed and his breath - if any - so faint that it would seem his soul was already wandering the halls of Aulë. Foreboding as Thorin had not experienced in a decade closed like a vise around his throat and he knew that desperation shone in his eyes with unrequited fire as he looked to Elrond for a sign of promise. The elf lord offered him no such comfort, his face grey with premonition that he was already too late.
Fili had dropped to his knees beside Kili's head, clutching his brother's hand in a grip that neither elf nor orc could tear away. If Thorin was considered a force to be reckoned with, those who crossed paths with Kili's brother would perish from his avid glare alone. Elrond did not attempt to force Fili to leave the wounded dwarf's side; indeed he would have fared better facing down an army of orcs single handed.
Such devotion ringing true in Fili's eyes brought a wave of nostalgea to Thorin's own, as the memory of two rambunctious children, whose happiness was wholly dependent on one another's safety, carried him back to another, almost equally disasterous occurence.
"M'not *k-choo!* c-cold, Fili!"
Kili, soaked and shivering from his recent 'unintentional' traipse through an icy river, no less firmly protested against the vehemently bright colored evil thing with which the brother whom he thought he could trust with his life now sought to suffocate him.
"Hush up," Fili berated, attempting to wind a third blanket around his wriggling kid brother, who in turn was set and determined to rid himself of the confining material.
"Explain to me again how you two managed to 'accidentally' fall into a river you were forbidden to go near," Thorin ordered after watching the hopeless cause for a few minutes.
He cast a meaningful glare at both his nephews, but the question itself was directed at Fili who was supposed to be keeping his younger sibling out of trouble. The two should have known better than to play outside in the middle of a cloudburst against their mother's orders, let alone after dark and so close to a river engorged with recently thawed snow.
Kili abruptly clapped his mouth shut, executing his best manner of defense by sinking into his coccoon of blankets until he resembled a puppy eyed catterpillar. He might have managed to pull the 'I'm cute and tiny and I should be hugged to death instead of lectured' tactic with his mother, but Thorin was immune to such methods.
Well, almost. There was a reason besides the question of irresponsibility that caused him to focus his attention on Fili instead. Lamenting, sorrowful eyes welled up with tears of abuse could only be ignored for so many minutes.
Forcing himself to ignore the sniffling bundle of pity that Fili instinctively put one arm around and pulled closer, Thorin rephrased his previous question.
"Were you not warned to stay away from the river? I told you to look out for your little brother, not stand back uselessly while he drowns himself! If your mother had not sent me out looking for you two, this conversation would never have taken place as you would be attending his funeral instead!"
Fili drew in a sharp gasp, his face paling at the very thought. Kili whimpered and burrowed further into his warm sanctuary of blankets, trusting in his young mind that if he hid from his troubles they would never find him. Ignoring the -tut- of warning from Dis, Thorin continued,
"Do you understand me, Fili? Your brother could be dead right now and nothing you could do would ever change that!"
Thorin knew only too well how accurate was his warning. He had witnessed more death than could be recorded between the dragon's attack and the seige of Moria, and as much as he wanted his nephews to avoid the scarring of their harsh past at so young and naiive an age, Fili had to learn the consequences of his actions before his irrational behavior killed them both.
"M'sorry," Fili mumbled, the toe of one boot scraping the floor while he stared at a patch of dust collecting at his feet.
Thorin sighed and relented, deciding the boy had heard enough. Fili was still a child, after all, and could not fully understand the guilt and heartache that would have followed the death of his younger sibling.
Then again, given what happened to their father, perhaps his nephew understood the implications a little too well. Fili's gaze remained fixated on the floor, neither pleading his case supplicating for his mother to rescue him. Tears swam in his miserable eyes, glittering in the flickering illumination of the fire. It appeared that Fili knew with grim certainty exactly what could have happened, and he was tearing himself up for his mistake.
Thorin was at a loss for what to do now, except perhaps to pat his nephew on the head and send him to his room, hoping that sleep would eraze the worst of his trauma. He had never had children of his own, and sometimes he wondered if he was too harsh with his nephews.
Kili chose this moment to have his say in the matter.
"Stop yelling at Fili."
Thorin was taken aback and Fili's head shot up, while Dis hid a smile behind her hand as Kili emerged from his blanket tomb and fixed his adorably furious glare on his uncle.
"Stop yelling at Fili," he repeated with cute firmness, unaware or uncaring that he had just barged through every respectful barrier upheld in the kingdom.
"See, now he's sad an' I'm not gonna be able to play with him tommorrow cause he'll be practicing an' he won't even look at me, he'll just tell me to "Stay in the house and don't get inta trouble, Kili," an' I was the one that ran out of the house in the first place an' he had ta come get me because I was playing by the river and I wanted ta catched a tadpole, an' then I felled in cause the thunder boomed really loud and he was gonna jump in after me but you got there first so he did'na get the chance. So you can't get mad at him because he tried ta rescueded me."
Pausing only now to draw breath, Kili folded his arms across his chest with a 'humph!' and sat back, convinced that that he had defended his brother quite efficiently.
Thorin stared mutely at his youngest nephew, uncertain whether he should be congratulating the witty child or lecturing Kili for speaking against his elders. To his relief Dis spoke up before he had the chance.
"Fili, is this true?"
Fili was engrossed in the intricate pattern of his boots. "I still didn't get him in time," he murmured dejectedly.
"Yes, he did!" Kili crowed, grabbing Fili's arm and clutching it as though his life and honor depended on Fili sitting right-by-him-and-nowhere-else. "He tried to jump and Unca Thorin pushed him back!"
Dis looked to Thorin, and with a flush of chagrin he admitted that Kili was telling the truth. He had not realized Kili had once again been the sole instigator of the matter, however, and felt guilty for rebuking Fili so harshly.
Shaking her head and no doubt wondering how she had managed to raise two such young rabble with their numbskull of an uncle, Dis absolved the matter with a swiftness that Thorin admired.
"Fili, change out of those wet clothes and head to bed before you catch cold. You are not in trouble for what happened."
Relief at the unexpected show of mercy shone in Fili's eyes and he glanced towards Thorin, who shrugged apologetically and nodded towards a hyperactive Kili who was determined that a celebration was in order with some of Mummy's bestest deserts.
Dis, however, was not finished with her youngest. "Kili, you knew better than to play by the river. Did I not tell you a thousand times already not to go outside in the rain?"
Immediately the child ducked under the covers again, dark, pleading eyes peeking out in hopes of forestalling Mummy's judgement. Dis was not to be put off this time.
"Tommorrow you will assist Balin with his records. Whether he wishes for you to read to him, practice your writing or merely sit in the corner and do nothing, I expect you to do what he says until I come for you. That will be your punishment."
"Aw, Mum, not that!" Kili wailed, dreams of hide and seek and goblin fights flitting out the window while the promise of a day filled with fun and games waved goodbye with a mocking laugh.
Thorin chuckled at his youngest nephew's dismay, remembering a time when he had been grounded with the record's keeper as punishment for not watching out for Dis properly. That time it had been his fault; she had been playing contentedly by the river when he had spooked her and accidentally made her take one step too far back... Well, he just as soon would not revisit that particular memory.
Thorin had held much less respect for his sister in the past than he had seen reflected in his young nephews. The boys were so young, yet already they had made it clear that they would go to ludicrous efforts - even if it meant accepting the entire blame whether or not punishment was deserved - to protect one other. It was something Thorin felt he had missed during his own childhood, and which he counted as Fili and Kili's greatest strength.
That same unerring loyalty Thorin had glimpsed years before now shone clear in Fili's trusting gaze as Elrond placed a hand over Kili's face. His eldest nephew's tear streaked features proclaimed that in his mind there was no room for failure; that any moment little brother would bound to his feet with a new wild scheme and another scar to add to his collection, his eyes wild and carefree and a world to be explored just waiting at his fingertips. Kili had more lives than a cat, and surely nothing so trivial as the recent attack would hold him down for long.
Thorin had to swallow back a tidal wave of emotion that threatened to burst free of its fetters. He could not share the same unbridled hope as his nephew. He could not look at the world as a plain of opportunity and visions that would come true if he only believed in them. He had seen too much death, too much reality, and when death presented itself in cruel finality he had no other choice but to accept the inevitable.
Elrond's features darkened, and even as he called in the Elvish tongue for Kili to return Thorin knew they were too late. Tears sprang to his eyes and with an inmeasurable effort he fought them back. For Kili's sake he should not batten down his emotions; the boy deserved no less than his broken, honest grief. Even so he had to remain strong, to hold the company together in the midst of tragedy.
Thorin did not realize a few tears had escaped his iron hold until Balin's hand clasped his shoulder, offering what little comfort he could. Thorin shrugged it away, wanting to order the elder dwarf to leave him be but not trusting his own voice. Fili's stricken pleading, imploring Kili to return to him, his words punctuated by harsh, contained sobs every time he drew breath, tore at Thorin's heart and mocked him, accusing him of his failure. He was the leader; he had initiated this mad quest in the first place. He had owed a responsibility to his nephews, and especially to their mother, to see to their safe return. For one of them to be torn away was like a wound cut deeper than the heart, a twisted blade of guilt and unmeasurable loss stealing away his breath.
He was a fool to embark on this quest, and no gold under the mountain could replace what was lost.
For the first time since he proposed the mission to Balin, Thorin understood that there was a sacrifice too great to pay for the home of his past. Some lives were better left unavenged, and some mountains were intended to remain empty.
Note to self: The muse does NOT get coffee again! Ugh, I had to make this a two part chapter in the end; one part for Thorin and the upcoming part for Fili's POV. Annoying little muses, drink all the coffee and then steal my laptop to boot.
Feed the muse so that it will give me my story back!