Pairing: Fili/Kili
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Phobias
Lay Me Down - Part 1
Kíli stood awkwardly at the front door of their tiny home as he watched his mother hurry about making sure absolutely everything was in order. She checked over the pantry stores, and then flittered about various rooms in the small cabin, straightening bedding and stacking books. She searched through her bags, and patted down her jackets, buckled up snaps and retied holsters. Her boots were tied twice, her bedroll neatly folded across her back, and then she turned with a final sigh, facing her two sons resolutely. It was clear she was nervous leaving them for even the length of her short journey, but it was her turn to join the trading caravan, and besides, her boys were in capable hands.
"You be good for your uncle, all right Kíli?" Dís ordered, and the tiny brunet bit his lip and nodded slowly. His eyes were downcast and he clutched his overlong tunic tight between his tiny fingers. Dís patted his cheek fondly before turning towards her other son who was watching from afar.
"Come here you rat," Dís said with a grin, and Fíli smirked playfully before trotting over to her side. He was definitely the more independent of the two. While Kíli always seemed intent to cling to her skirts or his brother's arm, Fíli was more often than not perfectly happy with no more than a book in his hands.
"Watch out for your brother all right?" Dís spoke to the blond as she clutched the back of his head. Fíli's eyes widened and he nodded decisively, glancing quickly towards the brunet.
"I will," Fíli promised with a determined expression, and Dís studied them both with moistening eyes.
"Oh, I'm going to miss you both so very much," she admitted, before tugging her boys tight to her chest. Fíli laughed and hugged her back, while Kíli pressed his nose against her shirt. She pulled away with a great deal of difficulty, patting both her sons gently atop their heads before standing and straitening her belts.
"That's my lads, I'll be gone but a few weeks, and Thorin will take good care of you," she reassured them, her hands on her hips.
"I love you both, stay safe my little ones. I expect to hear all about your adventures when I return," she directed a brilliant smile at the two children, and finally turned towards her brother. Thorin was standing still several feet away, his body leaning against the wall nearest to the door. He was watching her with his usual stoic expression, hiding his anxiousness beneath a carefully crafted mask. He worried for his family of course, but did his best never to show it.
"I'll see you when I return brother, see that they come to no harm," Dís warned as she nodded towards her sons. Thorin raised an eyebrow at the steely tone of her voice and swallowed nervously. She was perhaps the only dwarf able to strike fear into his heart, though he would never admit it. Her gaze softened and her lips formed a playful grin as she reached out to grip his chin firmly.
"And do try to smile every once in a while, you look like an ogre," she teased, shaking his head in her hand. Thorin grunted and frowned, grateful when she finally released him. Dís took a deep breath and cast one last loving gaze towards her children, before hurrying out the door towards the caravan waiting not far away. Kíli rushed after her and Thorin reached out to keep him from setting foot outside, his thick hand halting the brunet in his path. The little dwarf flinched and gasped slightly, but stopped, watching his mother leave from within the doorframe. He stood until the caravan rolled completely out of sight, and even then Thorin had to usher him back so he could shut the door.
Kíli was obviously unsettled, and he scurried to his brother's side, eyeing his uncle warily. The older dwarf stood impassive in the middle of the room, looking upon his nephews with an emotionless gaze. His figure was imposing, and it made Kíli inch away from him even further and lower his gaze. Kíli knew the dwarf was his uncle, but he hadn't seen much of him in his life thus far, not that he could remember anyway. Thorin was often away on very important business, and the few times he stopped by to visit, were brief, and to the point, mostly spent speaking with his mother. It was Dwalin that often looked after Kíli and his brother, when Dís was occupied with other matters, and on occasion Balin would take care of them as well.
To be honest, Kíli was afraid of his uncle. He didn't know what to expect around him, and it seemed like no matter what he did, Thorin was always frowning at him disapprovingly. The rest of the evening proved quite nerve-wracking for the little dwarf. He ate his supper timidly, always with a watchful eye on Thorin, and then he dragged Fíli away to bed as soon as he was able.
"Kíli! Kíli, come on, what's wrong?" Fíli asked, as he paused just inside their room. Kíli had already tucked himself beneath the covers of his bed, and only his head poked out from beneath them, his dark brown hair strewn about his pillow.
"You never rush to bed like this," Fíli commented, moving closer to peer at his brother's face more closely. It was then he noticed the trembling lip, and the way his brother seemed on the verge of tears. Fíli frowned and lifted the covers, moving to lie beside the other dwarf. He studied Kíli's expression a bit longer, and pressed his fingers against his cheek gently. It made Kíli think of their mother and his face crumpled up even further in anguish.
"Kee?" Fíli questioned, lifting the flyaway hairs off of his brother's face carefully.
"Uncle hates me," Kíli whispered, sniffling once or twice and burying his nose in his sleeve. Fíli couldn't help but chuckle lightly, though Kíli only frowned further at the reaction.
"That's not true," Fíli insisted, snuggling a bit closer so he could look directly into the brunet's eyes.
"Yes it is," Kíli muttered, and he looked up into the other dwarf's gaze resolutely.
"Why do you think that?" Fíli asked, wondering where such ridiculous thoughts came from.
"He won't speak to me, and he's always frowning when he looks at me," Kíli explained sadly, and he mimicked the look and pointed to his brow. Fíli raised an eyebrow and patted his brother's head with a tiny smirk upon his face. The blond dwarf knew their uncle had a lot on his mind, things that often made him appear more frightening than he really was. Thorin was haunted by things Fíli was only just beginning to understand. He wasn't sure exactly what their uncle had gone through, but there were a few times he'd overheard Thorin talking to their mother, about Frerin's death, and also about the battles they had fought in together. But no matter what, Fíli knew the older dwarf cared for his family. He showed it in other ways, by keeping them safe, and providing them with food.
"Kee, that's just the way he is," Fíli encouraged. He smiled softly and pushed his nose against his brother's smaller one.
"I promise he doesn't hate you," the blonde assured, with more conviction than a dwarf twice his size. Kíli blinked at him a few times and then his shoulders shook as the first tears finally rolled down his cheeks.
"Hey, don't cry, it's okay," Fíli tugged his brother tight against his chest and wrapped his arms about him snuggly.
"Mama won't be gone long Kee. And besides, you've got me," the blond reminded him, and Kíli nodded against his body as his tears soaked into his brother's shirt. He cuddled into Fíli's warmth, and after a long while fell asleep listening to the steady sound of his brother's heart beating alongside his own.
Kíli took his brother's words to heart. He trusted Fíli, more than any other, sometimes even more than his own mother. There was just something about Fíli that made him feel at ease. And besides, Fíli had never lied to him before. If his brother said his uncle didn't hate him, then it must have been true. And thus was the reason Kíli stood uneasily at the entrance to the study, clutching a large book between his hands.
Thorin sat at the desk inside, his head lowered as he scratched quickly at some parchment. He was so focused he failed to notice his nephew's approach, and even as Kíli stepped no more than a foot away, his uncle continued his writing. Kíli squeezed his fingers tight about the book's binding and swallowed nervously.
"U-uncle," he stuttered, waiting patiently for the other dwarf to acknowledge him. Thorin let out a sigh under his breath and turned his head without putting down his quill. The older dwarf eyed his nephew, pausing to look upon the book, before meeting his eyes.
"What is it?" he asked, his voice scratchy and low, and Kíli flinched at his tone.
"Would you…," Kíli began, losing his nerve halfway through his question. Thorin narrowed his eyes impatiently and it urged him to continue.
"W-would you read to me?" Kíli stuttered, his eyes wide and hopeful, but his brow scrunched together when his uncle merely looked away, back towards his writing.
"I don't have time for such things Kíli. Surely you are capable of reading to yourself," Thorin muttered, and Kíli stood there watching him in silence for a few moments. The small dwarf felt his heart sink, and he nearly dropped the book in his haste to get away. He scuffled out of the room, holding back tears, running so quick that he missed his uncle glancing worriedly after him.
Kíli stormed into his room and fell atop his covers, startling his brother who sat nearby. The blond dwarf tilted his head at his brother's shaking shoulders, and carefully approached. He took note of the book thrown haphazardly atop the bedding. It was one of his brother's favourites, and usually he took very good care of the pages, the wear and tear around the edges entirely due to the frequency with which he and their mother read it.
"Kíli? What's wrong? Are you crying again?" Fíli voiced, lifting his body to settle atop the bed next to his brother's head. Kíli turned away and the blond frowned at him. He could tell his brother was crying, he didn't really have to ask. He could even hear the muffled sobs and the tiny noises each time the other dwarf choked on his own tears. And even if he hadn't been able to hear the specific sounds, Fíli still would have known. He always knew what his brother was feeling. He could hear it in his heart.
"Kíli?" Fíli reached out, running his fingers through his brother's hair, and he leaned over his body, so that his lips were next to the other dwarf's ear.
"You don't have to hide from me," Fíli whispered, and as he tugged on Kíli's shoulder gently, the other dwarf rolled onto his back and looked up into his eyes. The brunet's face was streaked with tears, and he looked even more upset than the night prior.
"I asked uncle to r-read to me," Kíli started, his speech interrupted by a few sniffles and hiccups. Fíli waited patiently for the other to catch his breath so he could continue.
"He said no," Kíli muttered, his lower lip trembling as he looked away. Fíli made an understanding noise and reached out to begin wiping away the tears with the edge of his sleeve methodically. He knew what the other dwarf was struggling with, and it seemed he was in need of reassurance again. Fíli was beginning to wonder if it would become a nightly routine.
"It's not because he doesn't like you. I'm sure he would read to you if he could," Fíli explained as his brother closed his eyes against the feel of fabric against his face. A few tears still leaked from the corners of his eyes, and his face was puffy and red, but his sobs had tapered off to just mildly laboured breathing. Fíli pulled his arm away and waited for the other dwarf to look at him before he began speaking again.
"He's very busy," Fíli said, watching his brother's glassy eyes intently.
"Uncle Thorin has to look after our people, and protect the village," the blond explained, his brother's dark gaze glued to his face.
"And he has to run the blacksmith, and hunt to keep our stores filled with food and supplies," Fíli further listed, watching as Kíli processed the information. Fíli brushed the other dwarf's bangs back, and studied him for a few moments before tapping him lightly on the nose.
"It's a lot, isn't it?" Fíli mentioned, and Kíli nodded gently. The brunet reached out to grab his brother's hand and slowly the brunet sat up so that he could lean his head against the other dwarf's shoulder. Fíli smiled and kissed him on top of his head, hugging him close to his side. The blond eyed the book resting not far away, and he leaned towards it slightly, and pulled it into his lap, flipping to the first page.
"I'll read to you tonight, okay?" Fíli suggested, and he was pleased when Kíli smiled happily, his eyes alight with joy. It was another thing he loved about his brother. He always wore his emotions on his sleeve, and that included when he was happy. Fíli began the story easily, barely having to read the pages, already knowing the entire tale from start to finish. He'd read it several times before, and heard it read hundreds of others. As he made his voice turn into a low growl to imitate one of the characters, Fíli grinned as he faintly heard his brother's heart skip a beat and speed up slightly. He eyed his brother in wonder and felt his heart racing along as well. Eventually Kíli's heart slowed and quietened, turning to a gentle thrum as he drifted off into sleep again. It was always a comforting sound for Fíli and he was almost always able to hear it, at least when his brother was nearby. In fact, when he couldn't, it was rather unsettling, and he often found himself searching out the other dwarf just to remind himself of the sound. Fíli never questioned why, for it was something he had always been able to hear, from the day his brother was born. And for some reason he never really noticed that Kíli's heart always seemed to beat at the exact same rhythm as his own.
Thorin watched his nephews with a wary eye, not quite sure how to act around the two lads. He didn't know how to take care of children. Not in the least. He'd never had any of his own, and likely never would. It had been easy when the two were just babes. Caring for babes was like clockwork. They were either hungry, tired, or in need of a change, and Thorin found that, though sometimes tedious, much more manageable. But as they grew older, they became more curious, more attentive, and often the questions asked, were ones he hadn't the slightest ability to answer.
Fíli was not as hard to take care of. He was eager to learn, and diligent in his studies, so Thorin found he was able to simply give him a task and let him find his own way. Kíli on the other hand…he had not the faintest idea how to handle. The lad was a bundle of nerves, either overly happy because of something nonsensical and unexplainable to his older eyes, or entirely reserved, due to some sort of fear of rejection. Or so he suspected. To be honest, Thorin wasn't quite sure what went on in his youngest nephew's mind at all. He had imagination beyond the scope of any Thorin had witnessed before, and the older dwarf often found it difficult to keep up. His thoughts were clouded with memories of times he would rather forget but never could, and it stunted his ability to see the world the same way as Kíli seemed to.
So Thorin tended to avoid contact with the child as much as possible, instead leaving Fíli to entertain him, which he seemed willing enough to do. He knew sometimes his cold exterior hurt Kíli, and that was never his intention. He loved his nephews, more than life, but showing them such a thing seemed even more difficult than fighting in a war. Thorin was worried about the younger of the two. He was almost certain there had been tears in his nephew's eyes the night prior, when he'd carelessly sent him away. And he hoped at the very least, he might be able to make up for that.
Thorin approached the two lads calmly, sitting next to them at the table they were working at. Fíli was reading a book about their forefathers, taking care to study each illustration thoroughly. He seemed so advanced for his age, and Thorin smiled proudly at the sight. When he glanced towards Kíli, the lad ducked his head, clearly embarrassed at getting caught staring. The brunet was doodling on some parchment. Thorin couldn't quite make the shape out from his angle, and all he saw were several scratchy dark lines. He watched him continue for a few moments, smiling faintly as the tiny dwarf stuck his tongue out as he concentrated. Whatever he was drawing seemed very important.
Thorin directed his attention back towards Fíli, deciding it was best to pull his eldest nephew into conversation first, and perhaps Kíli might become more comfortable with the idea after watching.
"You like reading about the history of our people, Fíli. Do you wish to be a scholar one day?" Thorin asked, and Fíli's eyes moved away from the text and looked towards him keenly.
"Actually, I'd like to be a warrior, like Dwalin! I've never seen him lose a fight," Fíli spoke, and Thorin raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"Or maybe a blacksmith, like you," Fíli added with a smile, and Thorin could not help but feel honoured by the young dwarf. He truly was a Durin at heart.
"Both valid goals, and I would be glad to train you," Thorin suggested, and Fíli's eyes lit up as he grinned happily. Thorin turned to his other nephew, who was watching with interest, and he even looked eager to join in.
"And you, Kíli?" Thorin asked, surprised when his youngest nephew looked him in the eye excitedly. The young dwarf bit his lip and splayed his fingers on the table as he sat up straight.
"I want to fly! So I can make friends with the clouds and birds!" Kíli blurted out, and Thorin had to hold back a laugh.
"That's ridiculous Kíli," Thorin stated, and he heard Fíli chuckling lightly as well.
"Dwarves cannot fly," The older dwarf explained at the sight of his nephew's crestfallen face.
"But…what if I made something so that I could! Mister Agnarr down the path told me if you could think of something you could make it!" Kíli rambled, his eyes still focused on his uncle. He seemed desperate for confirmation, but Thorin shook his head at the statement instead.
"Mister Agnarr is ancient, and half mad, he's clearly filled your brain with useless things. If we were meant to fly, Mahal would have granted us wings," Thorin chastised. The young dwarf's face fell even further, and his fingers clenched tightly against the tabletop, crumpling up his drawing, while Fíli stiffened at his side.
"Dwarves were given the gift of craftsmanship, so that we might create and build things that are useful to our people, not so that we might make friends with animals and clouds in the sky," Thorin continued to lecture, failing to notice the pain in Kíli's dark brown eyes.
"You'd be better suited directing your attention towards something else instead of dreaming of such nonsense things," The older dwarf explained, and when he finally turned to look at his nephew he was caught by surprise. Kíli's eyes were moist and red rimmed, and his lip trembled viciously. It was almost as though Thorin had crushed his very soul. When the first tears fell, Thorin opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, and Kíli pushed himself away from the table and fled the room, knocking his chair over in the process. Fíli sat idly for a moment, but after a single look towards his uncle he stood calmly and followed after his brother.
Thorin was struck by the sudden silence of the room. He wasn't sure quite where he'd gone wrong, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized he'd been far too harsh with his words. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily, knowing he'd done even more damage to his already feeble relationship with Kíli. Thorin tapped his fingers against the table a few times, wondering if he should go after Kíli as well, but he was probably in better hands with his brother. Besides, Thorin would likely only manage to make yet another blunder.
He opened his eyes again, looking over at the parchment left behind, before he leaned forward and dragged the crumpled drawing to his side of the table. He flattened it down and looked upon it with interest, turning the sketch around so it was right side up. Thorin's brow rose up in revelation as he took in the rough lines. Looking upon the drawing properly he could tell it was clearly some kind of bird, with its wings spread as though about to take flight. It was primitive, yes, but still beautiful, and Thorin held it between his thumb in forefinger with care before gently folding the parchment and tucking it into his pocket. His nephew's mind was a sacred place, a place he would likely never understand, but still Thorin vowed to do his best not to hinder his dreams in the future.
Kíli remained distant for the following days, never looking at his uncle directly, and never speaking unless spoken to. Thorin too kept his distance, and this did little to improve their relationship, and the space between the two seemed only to grow greater with time. Nearly a week had passed, and Thorin watched his nephews playing through one of the windows in the cabin, while Balin sat across from him sipping a drink.
"I don't understand why you find it so difficult to talk to him," Balin admitted, as he watched Kíli stumble and fall to the ground. The old dwarf cringed slightly but relaxed when he saw Fíli pick the lad up and brush off his knees.
"I've done nothing but make him cry," Thorin groaned, and he lifted his tankard of ale and took a large gulp. It was early in the day for him to drink, but he needed the comfort. Balin hummed and smiled at the two boys playing. Kíli had recovered quickly from his collision and he was chasing butterflies while his brother laughed at his side.
"He's a child, Thorin," Balin spoke calmly, before pulling his gaze from the window and casting it upon his friend.
"You were imaginative and free-spirited once," the wise dwarf reminded him and Thorin scoffed and slammed his mug to the table.
"Never like this," he hissed, nodding towards his nephew outside. He was pretending to be some sort of creature, holding out his arms in front of his body limply, and Thorin could not make any sense of it.
"Does he not remind you of another?" Balin asked, as he ran a hand slowly through the long strands of his greying beard. Thorin narrowed his eyes as he watched his nephew playing. It was true, Kíli had the same eagerness about life that his brother had possessed, even up until the day of his death. They were both so fanciful, always caught up in some sort of creative quest, and there was a spark hidden behind their eyes that never seemed to fade. There was a time when Thorin had respected that, but those days had faded long ago.
"It doesn't change the fact that I cannot seem to…to connect with him, not like with Fíli," Thorin admitted, taking another long sip before looking his friend in the eye.
"I love those boys, I want to be a father figure to both of them, but…I'm not sure how," he confessed, and Balin smiled gently at him.
"Be open minded Thorin. He's so young. He just needs to know you care," Balin reassured the other dwarf. He waved his hand about in the air a bit and sighed wistfully.
"He's tactile, he needs…to be held, hugged. And I think most of all he just wants your respect," he continued, and Thorin looked at him out of the corner of his eye. He shoved a hand inside one of his pockets and fingered the scrap of parchment still within. He wasn't confident, but perhaps he could try to be kinder, at the very least.
The clanging of iron echoed around the blacksmith as Thorin shaped a blade to his will. It was hard work, but he found some pleasure in the craft. There was always a sense of accomplishment once a blade was forged, and the final details etched into the design. He prided himself on making some of the most balanced and well-crafted weapons in the Blue Mountains. It was the only reason Thorin had managed to make a living working out of his small shop.
He kept his nephews busy with some of the smaller tasks within the store, glad to see Kíli taking an interest in his work, even if it was mostly a result of his curiosity. His youngest nephew was constantly poking at things and it had Thorin a tad on edge. He felt the need to constantly watch him, just to make sure he didn't do something stupid, like stick his finger into the embers. It was a difficult task, considering the amount of work he had ahead of him for the week's orders. Thorin was in the middle of adding the final shaping to the blade in his hands when Kíli approached, peering at the anvil oddly and flinching each time Thorin brought the hammer down upon it.
"Uncle, c-can I help?" Kíli asked, between a swing of the hammer, and Thorin frowned as he tried to maintain focus on his work.
"Not right now Kíli," he muttered, brushing his nephew off as he slammed the hammer down a final time. Thorin studied the blade and then quickly thrust it into water, watching the liquid come to a boil around the iron. He pulled the blade out and set it away for further detailing, before grabbing the next piece he was meant to forge. It was only then that Thorin caught the movement out of his eye, and he turned quickly at the sight. Kíli was hobbling over the cauldron filled with water, now bubbling furiously from the heat of the blade that he'd just finished, and the older dwarf's eyes widened as he watched the object teeter and his nephew begin to slip.
"Get away from that!" Thorin shouted, and he hurled himself to his nephew's side, shoving him with such violence that he was thrown to the ground. The cauldron toppled, and searing hot water fell over his arm, burning his skin, already bringing much of it to a blister. Thorin growled, and reached for another bucket of water, shoving his arm into the cooler liquid in a hurry.
"I…I didn't mean to," Kíli stuttered as he watched his uncle in shock from his place on the ground. The brunet's eyes were wide and his face a mask of horror. Thorin gritted his teeth through the pain, and pulled his arm from the water, watching the burn form atop his arm. It was going to be a nasty one, though he knew there had been worse. The older dwarf turned quickly towards his nephew and gripped his wrist, quickly checking for any signs of burning. He let him go in relief, perhaps rougher than he intended, and set about cleaning up the mess.
"Go back home, Kíli," Thorin ordered as he mopped up the still warm water, and then his eyes drifted to his other nephew, who had remained silent throughout the ordeal.
"Fíli, walk with him," He uttered, and though he did not watch him, Thorin heard the blond scuffling towards his brother, and the sound of their footfalls soon faded as both left the building in a hurry. Thorin set back about his work, doing his best to ignore the pain he still felt on his skin. As much as he wanted to visit Óin for some medical attention, there was much for him yet to complete.
Supper that night was spent in silence, and Kíli barely ate anything at all. When Thorin approached to take his plate away, lightly setting his palm against the small dwarf's shoulder, the lad flinched from him, cast a look upon his seared flesh, and then scurried away to his room, leaving the older dwarf to stare after him with a frown. His nephew had never reacted quite so negatively to his touch before, and it worried him greatly.
"Fíli, can you help dry the dishes tonight?" Thorin requested, his eyes still focused on the hallway entrance, even as he lifted dishes from the table.
"Okay," Fíli said softly, and his chair scratched against the ground as he stood up from the table, grabbing several plates as well. Thorin scrubbed at the dishes with a faraway look, passing them to his nephew methodically. His eyes lowered to look upon the lad's blond head of hair and Thorin paused in his dishwashing for a moment.
"Fíli," he began, and the young dwarf peered up at him over the dish he was working to wipe off. Thorin open and closed his mouth a few times, and finally took a breath and picked up another dish.
"Why does your brother fear me?" Thorin asked, and Fíli bit his lip and stood on his toes to set the dry dish atop the countertop.
"He…he likes you," Fíli spoke, and he shook out the cloth in his hands.
"But he thinks you hate him," the young dwarf mentioned hesitantly. Thorin held the soapy dish in his hand, ignoring the foamy suds that began to run down his arms. He winced slightly as they made contact with his burn, and then passed the dish to his nephew.
"That's…ridiculous, why would he think such a thing?" Thorin asked, his eyebrows low above his eyes. Fíli shrugged as he wiped at the dish and Thorin sighed.
"I care for both of you, very much," Thorin admitted, and he settled his hands on the countertop wearily. Fíli looked up at him with saddened eyes and leant subtly into his side.
"I know," the blond murmured into his side, and Thorin moved his arm to rest upon his shoulder lightly.
"So why doesn't your brother?" Thorin mused, his fingers dragging through his nephew's hair idly.
"You've never told him," Fíli answered, and the older dwarf looked at him in surprise. Fíli's blue eyes were watching him seriously and Thorin waited patiently for him to continue.
"I…I remember when father died," Fíli whispered, leaning further into his uncle for support. The young dwarf saddened whenever he thought of that fateful day. He had been horrified, frozen by the sight of his father's lifeless body. But Thorin had been there that day, and many after, holding him through his nightmares, and calming him while he cried what seemed like endless amounts of tears into his uncle's beard. Dís was distraught, and though she was there for her children, some days it was difficult for her to comfort them and keep hold of her own strained emotions as well. So Thorin had stepped in, reading to him and Kíli, and he often held them both until they fell into restful sleeps.
"But Kíli was too young. He doesn't remember any of that, he doesn't know how much you care," Fíli said lowly. At the time his brother was just a babe, not yet able to fully understand. But Fíli knew, he understood. He had heard his uncle's whispered words to them each night; he saw the emotion so often hidden in the older dwarf's eyes. Even when Thorin left for several years, to venture to the other kingdoms, Fíli remembered. And each time he returned, no matter how short the visit was, Fíli was happy to see him.
Thorin's fingers trembled slightly against his nephew's shoulder and then he tugged him close into a sidelong hug. He then knelt carefully at Fíli's side, and held his face between his hands, studying him with a faint smile.
"You're a good brother, you really watch out for him don't you?" Thorin noted as he brushed his thumbs behind the lad's ears. Fíli nodded and smiled confidently, and then he lunged forwards and wrapped his arms around his uncle tightly. Thorin grunted at the contact, but chuckled and hugged him back. He lifted his nephew from the ground and spun him around once before putting him back down. Thorin patted the blond on the head and ruffled his hair a bit before nudging him away.
"Go on, I'm sure he's waiting for you," the older dwarf urged, and his nephew grinned broadly, and disappeared down the hall. Thorin took a deep breath and focused on putting the dishes away on the shelves. Perhaps he was overthinking everything. Maybe all he really had to do was talk to Kíli, like he might anyone else, like he might Fíli. The dwarf hung the dish cloth to dry and pulled Kíli's drawing from his pocket, studying the dark scratchy lines. He definitely had to try.
As much as Thorin wanted to simply strike up a casual conversation with his youngest nephew, it proved much more difficult than he anticipated. Kíli rarely looked towards him, and the lad did his best to stay hidden in other rooms around the small home unless absolutely necessary. And those few times they were together, Kíli didn't say a word. Thorin tried to speak to him, asking him questions about his day, or what he thought about certain things, but more often than not he simply got shrugs or headshakes in response. It was a struggle for Thorin to even come up with things to say, and he knew Kíli would remain distant if he didn't manage to find something to pull him in. He was stubborn, just like his mother, and just like the entire Durin line for that matter. The older dwarf needed something to really capture his youngest nephew's attention, something to make him feel involved, and useful. Something to show Kíli that he was loved, and not hated at all.
He thought of it one day while sitting in the study. His nephews were both in the room, and Fíli was doing his best to teach his brother a bit of their language. Kíli's attention span was limited at the best of times, but somehow the blond managed to keep his brother focused on the task, and Kíli was just beginning to memorize the alphabet, along with a few key words. Thorin watched them proudly, and he couldn't keep the smile off his face. As much as he didn't want to interrupt them, he figured it was as good a time as any to put his plan into action.
"Kíli," Thorin uttered, drawing the attention of his youngest nephew towards him. The brunet looked at him fearfully, his hands hovering over the pages of the book he studied from, and Thorin felt his heart constrict at the sight.
"Come here lad," he requested, and Kíli blinked at him in surprise. The brunet didn't move from his spot, not until Fíli leant over and rubbed his back encouragingly. The two boys shared a look, and Fíli nodded gently. It was enough to make Kíli get up and approach, albeit warily. Once he was within arms' reach, Thorin rolled up the parchment he was writing on, tied it off, and held it out in front of him.
"See this note?" Thorin asked, and Kíli glanced towards his hand and nodded faintly.
"I need you to deliver it for me," the older dwarf mentioned, and Kíli's eyes lit up ever so slightly.
"It's a very important task, and you have to promise you won't tell anyone else, alright? It's a secret, not even you can look at it," Thorin said, his voice lowered his voice slightly as he watched his nephew with a serious expression. Kíli perked up, and stepped closer, nodding eagerly. Thorin smiled as he watched that spark reappear in his nephew's eyes and he twirled the roll of parchment about between his fingers. Truthfully, there was little more than a message explaining why Kíli was delivering the note inside, but hopefully, if all went well, his nephew would never know.
"You remember where Master Dwalin lives?" Thorin checked, and when his nephew nodded once again, he passed the note to him. Kíli's small fingers wrapped about it quickly and he pulled it close to his chest as though it was a precious treasure.
"Take this note to him, and then come right back, okay?" Thorin requested, and Kíli was so excited he was jumping lightly up and down.
"Okay!" the lad nearly shouted, and not a moment later he was practically running out the front door. Thorin's gaze followed him fondly and Fíli smiled and closed his eyes as he heard his brother's heart beat lighten dramatically for the first time in days.
Kíli hurried down the dirt path towards Master Dwalin's home. He tripped occasionally over his bootlaces, but always caught his balance and continued happily on his way. The brunet clutched the secret note carefully between the fingers of his left hand, with only one thought on his mind. Get the note safely to Dwalin. His heart was pounding in his chest from a mixture of excitement and joy. Thorin had entrusted him, given him an important task! And he was definitely not going back until that note was delivered.
He skidded around a corner, entering the thick of town. It was a bit tricky finding the right building, since many of them looked the same. But Balin and Dwalin's home had very specific markings in the wooden frame. Kíli looked closely at each home he skipped passed, and finally he saw it, the geometrical markings that Dwalin had hand etched into the wood himself, or so the warrior said. Kíli let out a happy gasp and moved to the entranceway. He knocked heartily and teetered back and forth on his toes as he waited, and finally the door creaked open and a long greying beard appeared before him.
"Kíli?" the old dwarf muttered, and he peered over down at the lad curiously.
"Hi Master Balin!" Kíli chippered, and he fiddled with the note nervously, and tried to peer around the other dwarf and inside the home.
"Is…is Master Dwalin home? I need to speak with him please," Kíli requested, his words slurring together a bit in his excitement. Balin ran a finger through several strands of his beard and chuckled lightly before he shook his head apologetically.
"I'm afraid he's not here laddie. Dwalin's working down at the mines today," he mentioned, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. Kíli's face immediately fell, and he nibbled on his lower lip and dropped his arms to his side.
"Oh," Kíli muttered under his breath, and his gaze veered off to the side, peering at the shapes of the tall cavernous mines in the distance.
"Is there something I can help with?" Balin asked, following his gaze, and Kíli whipped his face upwards, his eyes wide in surprise.
"No!" Kíli shouted, and he pulled the note behind his back. His mind worked frantically as he recalled his uncle's words. Thorin had very specifically said that the note was only to go to Master Dwalin, and no one else. The brunet's brow knitted up anxiously as he glanced at the dwarf before him suspiciously. Kíli knew that Balin was trustworthy, and Dwalin's older brother, but what if Thorin asked how it went when he returned home? Kíli would either have to lie, or tell the truth, and surely his uncle would be disappointed in him for not listening to his instructions properly. And he really didn't want to lie. Not to his uncle. He wanted Thorin to be proud of him! Kíli was sure he had to deliver it to the right dwarf. There was no other choice! He stood up straight and gathered his courage, looking towards the mines farther into the village. It wasn't strictly allowed, but perhaps, for the sake of his mission, it might be alright just this once to venture into the mines.
"It's okay, thanks master Balin!" Kíli said decisively, and he turned and began making his way further into town.
"Kíli! You're not to go to the mines by yourself, you know that," Balin shouted after him, and Kíli turned towards him one last time. The lad nodded, his fingers crossed behind his back, and he continued on his way regardless. He was determined, and it wasn't really lying. He hadn't actually said he wouldn't go. Kíli could finish his task, like a proper dwarf, and then maybe Thorin wouldn't hate him anymore.
His footfalls did not falter, and before long Kíli was just approaching the gated area that lead into the mines. A few dwarves eyed him curiously, and many frowned, clearly wondering what sort of mischief he was up to on that particular day, but Kíli walked by them, his head held high. He was there on very important business after all. The dwarf at the gate seemed hesitant to let him through, but it was easy enough for him to slip by unnoticed when several exhausted and loud miners made their way out in a group. He inched through the caverns; unsure which route was the best to take. There were carts and bags strewn about, and various rocks and stone piled up all around. He could hear the clanging of picks against the solid stone walls, and the low thrum of the forges working somewhere deep beneath the ground. Several dwarves stopped and cast him odd glances, clearly wondering what such a young dwarf was doing inside, and though a few pointed and whispered, no one stopped him in his path.
Kíli peered over an edge, his eyes widening at the golden glow emanating from the embers inside. He could see huge pistons working and hundreds of dwarves running about, pushing along heavy loads of gems and precious metals. Chains creaked all around him as roped off mechanisms worked to haul things from the lower levels up high. He stared in awe at the interior of the mines, and couldn't keep his gaze from flittering about in excitement. Kíli tightened his grip on the note and the crunching sound of the paper made him jolt and look down in surprise. He gasped lightly and puffed the shape of it back out, and then forced himself to continue on his journey.
Luckily Dwalin was a fairly easy dwarf to spot, even in such a big crowd. His bald head reflected the faint glow from the forges, and he stood far wider and taller than almost any other dwarf in the Blue Mountains, maybe anywhere. Kíli grabbed hold of a railing when he caught sight of him, and then he struggled for several minutes to find a safe path to where Dwalin was working deep below. The noise became much louder, and even a bit painful for Kíli's young ears as he continued further in the mines, and he flinched when a dwarf beside him swung a pickaxe into the solid stone wall. As Kíli approached, a few dwarves muttered in his direction, and the brunet saw the dwarf Dwalin was speaking to incline his head in his direction. Dwalin turned towards him with a frown and his eyes widened dramatically.
"What are yeh doin' here laddie? Yer not supposed ta' be at the mines," Dwalin gasped in surprise, and he hurried to the lad's side, bending low to settle his hands atop his shoulders. Kíli ignored his worry, and held out his hand, the tip of the scroll peeking out just above his fist.
"I brought you a note! From uncle! I promised I would get it to you safe!" Kíli spoke proudly, and he grinned toothily at the large dwarf as he waited for his response. But Dwalin merely frowned at him, and gripped his shoulders harder.
"If Thorin knew yeh were here he'd be furious!" Dwalin hissed over the clanging echoing around them. Kíli's smile dropped off his face and his grip slackened slightly, but he still made sure to hold the note securely between his fingers.
"Go on, sit over there, an' I'll take yeh home once I'm finished," Dwalin ordered, pointing to a bench not far from one of the giant forges. Kíli nibbled at his lip and scrunched up his brow, but finally hobbled away. He didn't understand. For once the brunet thought he was doing something right, but Dwalin only seemed upset to see him. Kíli rubbed at the sweat forming on his brow and lifted his legs up in front of him. It was warm where he sat, and now that he was no longer driven by his task, the droning sounds inside the mines became even louder and more annoying. Kíli pouted moodily as he watched the hustle and bustle of working dwarves all around him, all the while fiddling with the parchment in his hands.
The forge behind him whirred to life as the dwarves added to it, and Kíli watched as puffs of smoke flew from the sides. The buzzing noises picked up again and he looked away, already bored with things that had seemed so interesting just moments prior. He was studying his dragging bootlaces when someone high above let out a yell, hollering out over the pit, and then there was a loud clang, followed by another and another. Kíli looked up as more dwarves began shouting and the forge behind him came to a guttural halt.
"Look out!" Someone yelled out, and Kíli turned towards the forge with curious eyes, just as a deep loud rattling started up somewhere inside the contraption. Suddenly the ground beneath his feet began shaking and rumbling rapidly, and Kíli lurched on the bench and reached out to support his body. The brunet lifted his boots from the ground in surprise, as steam erupted with a whistling howl, and smoke began filling the air around him. It seemed like the entire mine was vibrating, and rubble was falling from the pathways above, hitting the ground around him. Kíli looked up just in time to witness Dwalin's look of horror, and the bulky dwarf was running towards him and calling his name from across the lower level of the mines.
"Kíli! Get away from there!" Dwalin bellowed, his jaw stretching wide as he cried out. His face was contorted in a way that seemed unreal, and it frightened Kíli and made him widen his eyes. His shouts echoed loudly, and then Kíli's ears were ringing, and he lifted his hands to cover them as something screeched horrifically behind him. When he turned, he saw nothing but red. His heart skipped a beat, and he barely had time to think as his body was thrown from the force of the explosion.
Thorin stretched out his weary muscles and sat back in his chair. His bones creaked at the action and he groaned as he looked out the window nearby. His nephew had been gone for quite some time, and Thorin knew it shouldn't take much longer than an hour to get to Dwalin's house and back, even if Kíli stopped by and stayed for a while. He stood up somewhat anxiously and made his way to the front door, stepping outside and looking down the path. There was no sign of his nephew.
Fíli sidled up beside him, and Thorin studied him, taking not of how visibly anxious the little blond seemed. His face was frozen as his eyes peered off into the distance, and his fists were clenched tightly at his sides. Thorin nudged him lightly to grab his attention.
"Get your things, we'll go get him," Thorin stated, and Fíli nodded and hurried to put on his boots. They made good time, and before long, stood on the front steps of their destination, looking into Balin's wise eyes.
"Cousin," Thorin acknowledged him with a nod, and he received one in return.
"Did Kíli come by here at all?" he asked quickly, trying to hide his worry unsuccessfully and Balin frowned at him.
"Yes, quite some time ago, he was looking for my brother, but Dwalin's down at the mines today. He left not long after I told him that," Balin explained, rubbing a hand over his chin. Thorin's eyes narrowed and he looked down at his nephew beside him when he felt the blond's grip tighten around his arm. Fíli was looking off into the distance, his eyes glazed over, his breathing pattern unsteady. Thorin opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but he was thrown off balance when a huge bang erupted from behind him, and the ground shook beneath his feet. Balin's home stuttered on its foundation, and the older dwarf gripped the door frame for support, his eyes searching the distance in wonder. Thorin's eyes flew towards the mines, and he gasped when he saw the black smoke flying up into the sky. Fíli let out an anguished wail at his side, and Thorin took off towards the site without a second thought. He was heaving as his feet slammed against the ground heavily, and he could hear screams and shouts from the dwarves within the mines. The crowds were swarming, many running from within the gates, covered from head to toe in soot and ash.
Thorin heaved as he came to a halt, and he staggered through the gate and lifted his shirt to cover his mouth. He crouched low in an effort to avoid the blackened smoke, but it did little to aid his lungs, and he coughed repeatedly as he made his way through the clouded pathways.
"Kíli!" Thorin shouted down the caverns, but it was lost amongst so many other searching cries. He turned a corner and a dwarf knocked into him, pausing in surprise as their eyes met.
"Thorin! The little lad, he was down in the lower levels!" the miner shouted at him and he pointed back the way he'd come. Thorin couldn't recognize him, so blackened was his face, but he hurried down the suggested path, sliding along the gradual slope. Dwarves were screaming out in pain, and Thorin frantically searched their faces, looking for one that was far younger than the rest. His blue eyes came to a halt on a body that lay dead and deformed, and he felt his throat constrict slightly before he was able to move on. It wasn't his boy, it wasn't Kíli.
Thorin whisked the smoke away from his face, trying to make sense of the chaos around him, and then he finally saw a dwarf he knew. Dwalin was throwing rocks from the ground frenziedly along with a few other dwarves, and Thorin skidded to a halt at his side. He reached out and gripped his friend's shoulder, tugging him towards him fiercely.
"Dwalin! Where is he?" Thorin shouted, and the other dwarf's eyes were wide and wild. He said nothing, only shook his head, and rushed back to his work, hurling more and more blocks from the ground as he growled manically. His fingers were bloodied from the effort, and his legs and arms sported several angry looking wounds. But it was his eyes that scared Thorin the most. They were haunted, terrified, and Thorin's heart skipped a beat as he realised what that meant.
"No," Thorin whispered, and he looked towards the pile of rubble hysterically.
"No! Kíli!" he yelled, and then he too was throwing himself at the rocks, heaving them up in his arms in an attempt to unbury whatever they hid. He bent and stood, gripped and threw, rock after rock after rock. And then his eyes caught sight of flesh, and Thorin fell to his knees as he realised it was a tiny hand. Thorin reached out, his fingers touching the skin hesitantly at first, and then he linked them hurriedly with his nephews limp ones. They were so tiny, and Thorin felt his eyes fill with moisture. He couldn't see the rest of Kíli's body, but there was no doubt in his mind that it was his nephew, and the streaks of blood on his skin made him crumble against the ground. Dwalin cursed loudly at his side and continued moving rocks as fast as he could, all the while beckoning others over to help.
"O'er here! Hurry!" his voice rang out, and Thorin watched as inch after inch of his nephew's broken body was revealed beneath the rubble. He felt tears already inching their way from his eyes, and he blinked rapidly and gripped his nephews hand tightly between both his hands.
And then something moved.
"Kíli?!" Thorin breathed, his voice just barely audible.
Those tiny little fingers had moved…he was sure of it! Thorin watched as they struggled again inside his grip and as more rocks were lifted from Kíli's body his gaze fell upon the lad's face. It was frozen in an expression of pain, but Kíli's eyes were open, and they flicked towards him agonizingly. Thorin gasped and Dwalin urged the other dwarves on, until they were able to move enough rocks to slide the small dwarf's body out from beneath the rubble. Thorin's face crumpled as he took note of his nephew's broken frame. His legs were shattered, his ribs, crushed, and Kíli let out an anguished whine as they moved him.
"Kíli! It's okay, hush, hush," he whispered, and he pressed his face into the brunet's tangled locks of hair. Kíli choked and gasped as he struggled to breathe, his lungs clearly hindered by his collapsed rib cage. Other dwarves were gathered around his body, and Thorin flinched along with his nephew when someone set one of Kíli's legs back in place. The howl that came out of his mouth was grating and Thorin had to squint his eyes and look away. He ran his fingers over the boy's face, and looked down into his eyes, listening intently as Kíli fought to stay alive.
"Oh child, please, don't give up," Thorin begged, and Kíli's eyes focused on him for a moment even through his haze of pain.
"S-sorry," he stuttered, and Thorin frowned as he placed a hand beneath his nephew's chin.
"I…kept it safe, I s-swear," Kíli mumbled, and suddenly his arm moved, lifting as much as it could, and Thorin saw the crumpled scroll he still clutched between his fingers. Thorin heaved and he placed a hand atop the scroll, pulling the paper from his nephew's weak hand. He watched agonisingly as Kíli's arm lowered, and as every muscle in his body went limp. The brunet's eyes fluttered closed, and his choking gasps became less frequent, and ever so slowly, those tiny fingers stopped moving, until they were completely still.
"Oh Mahal, no," Thorin murmured beside his head. His heart was breaking, and he felt his body grow hollow and cold, but it was nothing compared to the complete and utter desolation he saw as he lifted his gaze and connected it with another.
"Uncle," Fíli mouthed, his voice lost amongst the screams and shouting all around them.
"Uncle, I can't hear his heart."