AN: Sorry for the long wait, but here's the final chapter, and it's a long one. Enjoy!
Pairing: Fili/Kili
Warnings: Angst, Romance, Fluff, Phobias
Lay Me Down - Part 3
He wasn't completely naïve. Kíli knew there would be a few obstacles for him to overcome on the journey to Erebor. However, he had perhaps been a little too optimistic about his ability to face them. The relatively short trip to the Shire was easy enough for him to handle. The two brothers set a slow pace and Fíli made sure to stop whenever Kíli began to show even the slightest sign of weariness. But once the company set out together, they were not faced with the same luxuries. Thorin set a brutal pace, rarely stopping throughout the day, regardless of the weather, and only setting up camp once light became so miniscule the dwarves were forced to settle down for the night.
The ache in Kíli's bones never truly faded. It was always there during the days, a dull twinge running throughout all of his limbs, strained further by the repetitive position he was forced to hold while riding his pony. In the evenings his body clamped up, the pain intensifying as cold air seeped through his bedroll. Fíli wrapped around him during the nights when able, blocking out the wind and sheltering him from the cold temperatures. It warmed Kíli's heart each time he felt his brother nestle close beside him, and he couldn't help but press his face into the other dwarf's chest.
Despite the aches in his bones, Kíli was asleep each night as soon as his head hit the ground. He knew Fíli was taking his watch shifts, and guilt ate at his soul when he woke in the mornings to find no one had roused him during the night. The blond made no comment on it, and looked well enough, but Kíli did not like burdening him in such a way. He worried he was slowing the company, but it was nothing compared to when they were forced to carry on without the ponies. Everything became ten times more difficult. He could run, yes, faster than many, but it was endurance that he lacked. The endless walking drained him, and the rough terrain made for difficult and very long days. He saw Thorin looking at him often, no doubt wondering if he made a mistake in letting Kíli join on the quest.
Kíli struggled under pressure, and his first encounter with a real enemy had his heart beating furiously in his chest. His bow proved entirely useless against the trolls, the arrows he shot doing so little damage to their thick skin that he was forced to dive into battle and do his best not to get hit. He was shaky, and ineffective, and felt battered and bruised after spending time on the ground inside a sack.
The first real test of his control came when the orcs began to chase them through the plains. Kíli felt exhausted, like his legs were made of jelly, but he was still the best archer in the company and it became his responsibility to take down enemies out of everyone else's reach. He felt pressured as they waited beneath the rocks and Kíli was signalled to shoot down the warg above them. The other dwarves watched him with intense eyes, and Kíli's heart pounded frantically in his chest as he nocked an arrow and prepared to shoot. There was a long pause, during which he tried desperately to quell the shaking in his arms, and finally he willed himself to turn and fire at the target.
His first shot missed its mark.
Kíli was left paralyzed in place as the enemy lunged at him, and if not for his brother's quick reaction he might have been torn in half. He'd let everyone down, including himself. When he was needed most he had failed, and he was worried that each member of the company was blaming him for nearly getting them all killed. No matter how many times Fíli brushed his hair back and tried tell him otherwise, the frightening thoughts still picked at his mind.
It was all downhill from there. Even after spending two weeks resting in Rivendell, Kíli still felt as though he had not yet recovered enough to go any further, but he was determined to join his kin and stay at Fíli's side for the remainder of the journey. Climbing the rocks up the mountainside brought him a pain he hadn't felt in years. It was draining, and he knew both his uncle and brother watched him anxiously. Óin must have noticed something amiss as well, for the older dwarf often pulled Kíli aside in an attempt to look him over for injuries. The brunet struggled to hide away from his prying eyes, along with the rest of the company's, and every time Kíli noticed Dwalin frowning at him it made the brunet feel a thousand times worse. He didn't want to be treated as a child, or labelled as weak. He didn't want everyone to worry about him constantly. He didn't want to be a weak link.
When the ground started showing signs of frost in the mornings, Kíli knew the worst of his journey was yet to come. The higher into the mountains they travelled, the colder it became, and each step he took felt like thousands of needles piercing through his limbs. His shins throbbed and screamed at him to stop. His arms trembled and hung limply at his sides. His fingers curled into his palms to retain what warmth they could manage, and his shoulders began to slump and fall forwards as he slouched and ducked his head against the wind. Everyone was suffering, but dwarves were by nature a hardy people, and Kíli was visibly falling behind the rest, even their burglar.
Amidst the winding pathways Kíli was again struck frozen in place. The rain teemed down on his form, drenching his skin even through the thick layers of leather wrapped around his body. Tiny ice pellets pummelled his face, making his cheeks sting and burn painfully. His limbs seized up, and he drooped against the rock wall behind his body, unable to continue even the small shuffling steps across the thin pathway. Thunder boomed above him, and Kíli flinched at the loud sound, and recoiled as he was reminded of his past. His heart beat sporadically, and Fíli's gloved hand clasped the front of his tunic tightly and held him steady as his legs began to falter.
Kíli's vision blurred and he lurched forwards, nearly falling to his death. He certainly would have if not for Fíli's vice like hold upon his arm. The brunet's feet began to slide along the slippery rocks, and he gasped as a few fell away and an image of miners screaming flashed within his mind.
"Nadadith, focus, calm down, please," Fíli begged beside him. Kíli's heart was jumping all over the place, and as he tried to hone in on his brother's he noticed it was beating just as rapidly. No matter how hard he tried Kíli could not seem to stop shaking. As the rocks moved and shifted around him Kíli let out a tiny whimper and closed his eyes, struggling to keep himself upright. He sidestepped quickly, without really thinking, and realized all too late that he had moved away from his brother instead of towards him. The blond's grip fell from his tunic, and Kíli watched in horror as his brother reached out in his direction with a loud shout, and suddenly he was separated from the heart that beat alongside his own. He could do little more than stand still as a terrifying darkness washed over his mind. Nothing was reacting, his fingers twitched against the rocks, the muscles in his legs contracted, and his chest ached as he breathed in too deep. His head pounded, and he was shaking. He could not feel, he could not see. There was nothing but a gaping black chasm around his soul. And then he heard it again, his brother's heart.
He was crying, he was sure of it, even as his brother clutched him tight to his body. He could not be pulled away, and his fingers trembled as he clutched the fabric against Fíli's back wildly. He could not have shot a single arrow, let alone held his bow, even if it was a matter of life or death. They were tucked away inside a tiny cave, and he felt Fíli's lips on his skin, sliding over his neck, and down the collar of his shirt. The blond peppered kisses across him, finally landing just over his heart. The sound of it beating was so loud he could hear nothing else, and Kíli closed his eyes and let his brother lay him down on the stone. He was not awake much longer, far too drained to do anything other than go limp against the ground.
The next time Kíli woke he was falling, and he was certain something broke as he landed against a hard surface. He shouted and clutched his arm to his body, gritting his teeth against the shocking pain. The brunet groaned and rolled onto his front, squinting as screams and shouts rang out around him. He was confused and terrified as goblins surrounded the company, and when his eyes caught sight of the caverns around them he felt a chill run down his spine. It felt like some kind of nightmare, getting thrown around the eerily lit pathways, along with the high pitched screeching sounds the creatures made. His eyes roamed urgently, taking in the strange contraptions deeper in the depths of the goblin kingdom. He felt sick, and Kíli thought he might pass out as he imagined his bones cracking and stretching upon the torture machines, his legs breaking again, to a point where they would be irreparable once and for all. He knew he would be useless, and his eyes widened as fear consumed him.
Kíli saw Thorin turn towards him at the Goblin King's threats, and the look of horror in his uncle's eyes made the brunet cringe and glance away. He was unable to hide his mental struggle, and he felt tears forming at the edges of his eyes at the knowledge that his fear was so visible to those around him. Fíli surged in front of his body, protecting him from the weapons and whips thrown at them, and Kíli allowed his body to go completely lax. He fell limply to the ground, avoiding the brunt of the goblin attacks, and prayed they would leave him be. He was sure he must have looked like a cowering child, trying to hide beneath the covers at night. His uncle pushed his way towards him, lunging and trying to keep him safe, as Fíli stood over his back like a shield. Drums pounded around them and his beating heart sounded alongside them. He couldn't calm down, he couldn't breathe, and he must have been screaming.
He couldn't make sense of anything, and didn't recall much at all until they had found their way outside and Kíli was again in the arms of his brother. He pushed his head into the other dwarf's neck and tried to make sense of the blurring imagery in his head. As the other dwarves argued he covered an ear and pressed the other to Fíli's shirt, willing away the angry noises. Kíli kept his injured arm tucked in front of him, hidden from any prying eyes, and relied on his brother to keep him upright and moving. He felt the blond's fingers trailing through his hair, and tried to focus on the rocking motion of Fíli's body instead of the memories attacking his mind.
Everything was a haze, and Kíli barely kept the bile from rising up his throat. He felt so strange, nauseous and light-headed, but airy and weightless at the same time. Fíli held on to him, and the brunet could feel his lips as they brushed up along the ridge of his ear. Not moments before the blond had been roaring and lunging at orcs in a frenzied rage, his swords clashing against others while Kíli fell to his knees. His breath was hot like a burning hearth, and his heart still beat quickly from the adrenaline rush that had yet to fade.
"Kíli, Kee, we're flying," Fíli whispered to him, his voice scratchy from shouting. Kíli squeezed his eyes shut even tighter and leaned into his body at the words.
"Open your eyes brother," Fíli implored him, and the blond's fingers brushed the bangs from his face. Kíli let his eyes open slowly, and he blinked at their surroundings, feeling even sicker to his stomach as he tried to grasp what was going on. He could see a giant muscular wing lifting and spreading out to the side, long, sleek feathers swaying on the wind. He looked beyond, towards the sky and hills far below. It was surreal, watching everything pass by so quickly, so far away. Kíli took notice of the other birds flying along at their side, and he gasped as the large wing sent a gust of air up against his face. For a moment he was elated.
"You used to dream of this," Fíli murmured against his skin, his hand rubbing strange unfamiliar patterns along his back. Kíli narrowed his eyes as he sat up gingerly, wincing at his throbbing arm. He kept his face hidden from his brother as he pretended to look around them with interest, but as his eyes landed on his uncle's sagging form and the distressed postures of the other dwarves he collapsed back against the blond's chest. It wasn't what he dreamed of at all. He got no joy from it, only a reminder of his failures, and more than anything he just wanted to go home. If only Kíli was stronger, if only he could have fought harder. He was such a fool to think he might prove useful on his uncle's quest.
"I don't want this, I never wanted this," Kíli hissed as tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. The trails felt cool against his skin and he gazed sightlessly at the horizon as Fíli wiped a thumb across his cheekbone. The blond clutched him tightly, watching as the spark in his brother's eyes lessened further.
Even his first sight of Erebor was not enough to lift Kíli's spirits. He was glad his uncle was well, and that the rest of the company seemed relieved and relaxed for once, but the brunet still felt a lingering pain that made him withdraw from the celebrations of the others. He huddled against some rocks, far away from the group, and tried to keep his heart rate steady and controlled. Fíli's gaze had hardly left him since they landed atop the carrack, and he knew his brother was watching his every movement for a sign of something amiss. He had not masked his pain successfully, but the company had been so preoccupied with everything else that no one seemed to notice he was hurt. However, now that they had time to rest, Kíli knew he would be an open book to his brother.
Kíli fiddled with his sleeve, wishing he could push it back to better tend to his injured arm. But there was no way he was going to risk anyone catching sight of it. He didn't want to be weak, not when the others were finally relaxed and relatively happy. As the sun set and Kíli remained in the same place, not even rising when the dwarves prepared a small meal, Fíli approached him with a bowl and bent low to look him in the eye.
"Are you hurt?" Fíli asked in a low voice, so that no one could overhear. Kíli looked up at him and swallowed nervously, trying to ignore the burning throbs running through his elbow and down towards his fingers.
"N-no," he stuttered, his gaze flickering to the side as his brother's eyes visibly narrowed.
"No I'm fine," Kíli said again, in a much more steady voice, but Fíli reached out anyway to gently touch his shoulder. The brunet flinched back before his brother's hand even made contact, nearly sending the bowl in Fíli's grasp flying.
"Leave me be!" Kíli cried out, and Fíli halted in surprise, struggling to steady the food as he wiped some of the spilled stew from his fingers. The rest of the company glanced in their direction at the shout, and Kíli felt their curious eyes lingering on him.
"I don't need you mothering me all of the time," he hissed and then turned away and pulled his hood up to hide his face. His fingers were shaking and he grasped them in his other hand and held them still. Fíli's eyes widened and he worriedly looked the other dwarf over, but Kíli just huddled further into himself and pretended to settle down to sleep. The blond seemed hesitant to leave his side, but eventually he put the bowl down and stood. As he returned to the others, Fíli did his best to ignore the questions thrown at him by the rest of the company, but he was forced to share a few quick words with Thorin. Fíli wasn't blind, he knew his brother was hiding something, he could hear it in the unsteady rhythm of his beating heart. But he also knew Kíli could be incredibly stubborn, especially when under the scrutiny of so many others. There was no sense in pressing the issue while his brother was clearly determined to keep whatever was bothering him a secret.
The evening proved one of the loneliest for both dwarves on their lengthy journey. Fíli stayed far away, keeping a look out post at the edge of the carrack, while Kíli spent the evening propped against the rocks alone, wishing he had not reacted in such a way. The wind was cold against his body, and he barely slept as he gazed wearily towards the Lonely Mountain on the horizon, his bowl of stew left untouched beside him.
The few days spent travelling after finding a way down from the carrack were definitely some of the most scenic. The weather was beautiful, and decently warm, and the rolling hills around them displayed a wide array of wildflowers in all varieties of colours. The sky was clear, and the stars visible in the evenings, giving the dwarves something to focus their attention on. Although Erebor was impossible to see from such low ground, all of the dwarves knew it was closer than ever, and it kept them moving and in cheerful spirits. They lacked many supplies, having lost so much while inside the goblin tunnels, but managed to gather enough in the wooded areas to keep them fed and fairly comfortable.
Despite their pleasant surroundings, a heavy tension lingered amongst the group. Kíli's mood was lower than ever, and he had not smiled or laughed in days. He showed no sign of wanting to speak to anyone, and even Fíli continued to keep his distance. Thorin tried to include his nephew, sending him off on tasks with the other dwarves, hoping he might return with a grin upon his face, but nothing seemed to help. Fíli was growing increasingly worried the longer things persisted in such a way. He craved his brother's attention, longed for the days when Kíli's heart sounded like birds singing and playing amongst the treetops, but he did not want to linger at his brother's side when his presence was unwanted.
The company came upon Beorn's home gratefully, glad for a place to truly rest their weary bodies. The food was delicious, and all of them eagerly dug in, except for Kíli that is. He did little more than push his food around on his plate, and Fíli watched him, feeling frustrated as his brother continued to avoid contact with him. Bilbo managed to get the brunet to eat a few bites of honey covered bread, and Fíli nodded at the hobbit in thanks, but beyond that Kíli remained uninterested in nourishment. He was thinning, after days without eating much at all, and all of the dwarves were beginning to watch him carefully. It only made Kíli withdraw even further.
Beorn's cabin was set on the edge of the woods, not far from the Great River of Wilderland, and the members of the company relished in a chance to bathe and finally get the grit off of their skin. Even dwarves didn't enjoy having a body entirely caked in dirt. Kíli waited for a moment alone, and eventually he slinked towards the river once the other dwarves were finished bathing and fooling around. He couldn't risk them catching sight of his arm, and as Kíli removed his clothing he gaped in surprise at the dark bruising that covered his skin. He had not had a chance to really look at it, and the sight was not a comforting one. His elbow was visibly swollen and still throbbed whenever he tried to move it, and Kíli bit his lip as he tested the limits of the injury. There was no way he would be able to shoot his bow, not while his arm remained in such a condition, and he wondered how on earth he might explain that without giving himself up. If he was fortunate, he would not need to shoot an arrow until he had a chance to heal, but he hadn't had a whole lot of luck lately.
Kíli whimpered involuntarily as he struggled to remove the rest of his clothing, and eventually he managed to drop the last of his garments to the earth beside the river. The brunet eased into the water carefully, and sighed in relief as the surprisingly warm liquid soothed his joints and cleaned his skin. The few open wounds on his body stung as he ducked beneath the surface, but it was worth it to finally feel clean again. Kíli held his breath and let himself sink to the bottom of the river, focusing on the clear sound of his brother's heart. Beneath the water he could hear nothing else, and it echoed in his ears powerfully. It was strong enough that he knew the other dwarf was nearby, and for some reason that notion calmed him for the first time in days. He could tell from the rhythm that Fíli was edgy and worried, and Kíli opened his eyes and looked at the rocky riverbed through blurred vision. His eyes began to sting, and as he rose above the surface and breathed in, Kíli blinked rapidly and lowered his head in shame. He was treating Fíli unfairly, pushing him away and lashing out at him for trying to help, but he just couldn't bear the thought of appearing so pathetic in his brother's eyes.
The brunet exhaled shakily and eyed his scraggly hair in disgust before reaching up his uninjured arm in an attempt to work out the tangles. It was a mess, and near impossible to wash with only one useable arm, and Kíli tugged at it angrily and cursed his own weakness. If not for his fragile bones he would never have suffered a break from such a pitiful fall. As Kíli focused on his task he didn't notice his brother approaching, and only reacted when the other dwarf spoke at the river's edge.
"Want me to do that for you?" Fíli asked calmly, and Kíli froze and turned his gaze towards him warily, ducking low beneath the water to hide his body. He had known his brother was close, but didn't think he would be watching him bathe, and he wondered just how long the other dwarf had been there.
"I'm fine," Kíli whispered, though he was anything but, and his heart began to beat rapidly as Fíli raised an eyebrow and began removing his own garments. Kíli watched his brother with wide eyes, his mouth falling open as the blond removed his breeches and sat confidently beside him just at the river's edge, letting his thick legs dangle in the water. Kíli couldn't help the blush that formed in his cheeks as he studied the other dwarf's form. He'd seen Fíli in various stages of nudity several times, but never so close and so…on display. He'd always been envious of his brother's sturdy frame, and he felt frail and wraithlike in his presence.
Kíli turned away as the other dwarf slid completely into the water, and he continued struggling to work the grime from his hair with a single hand, trying to calm his nerves. It seemed to be working for a few moments, and Kíli could hear the blond splashing water against his face and scrubbing at his skin, seemingly losing interest in him. But when his arm twinged painfully as he forgot to keep it still, Fíli suddenly moved close beside him, lifting a hand to grab at his chin. Kíli gasped as his brother pulled his head towards him, and he was startled by the fiery glare upon the other dwarf's face.
"Do you take me for a fool?" Fíli questioned heatedly, his fingers tightening around his brother's jaw. Another dwarf might have been frightened by the blond's intensity, but Kíli knew his brother had no ill intent, instead he only felt embarrassed.
"I can hear your pain Kíli, and I know when you are lying," the blond insisted, pressing his fingers against Kíli's chest in explanation. Kíli felt moisture come to his eyes, but he willed himself not to cry, not in front of his brother. He'd lost count of how many times he succumbed to his emotions, wilting into a pitiful mess of tears. But as the other continued to stare at him with searching eyes, Kíli was forced to look away as a few stray tears fell down his face.
"Did you hide an injury from me?" Fíli asked, his grip lessening as he moved his hand to embrace his brother's face more gently. Kíli nodded regretfully, and knew he would not escape this time. He had nowhere to run to, and he was sure Fíli would not step back so easily, not while they were alone and Kíli was so vulnerable.
"Show me," the blond insisted, and Kíli pulled away and rose out of the water slightly, allowing his arm to come into full view. Fíli frowned at the bruising and immediately reached out to take hold of his brother's arm. He held it delicately, careful not to cause any further pain to the swollen area. His fingers traced the bruising and Kíli cowered slightly beneath his disappointed expression.
"When did this happen, in the Goblin tunnels?" Fíli guessed, and Kíli nodded as his brother pressed gently into the joint in search of a break.
"I wish you'd told me," the blond admitted, and Kíli lowered his gaze towards the water, lingering on the liquid that lapped against his brother's abdomen. He watched as the muscles there rippled slightly while his brother breathed in and out, and when Fíli pulled him close to his body Kíli leaned into the blond's wet chest in return.
"Kíli," Fíli spoke his name with such fondness, and Kíli looked up into blue eyes in astonishment.
"I can read you from a mile away," the blond voiced kindly, and he lowered his fingers to brush just over the other dwarf's heart. Kíli was sure it was beating ten times faster than usual.
"I'm not angry nadadith, just worried," Fíli explained, an entirely different intensity hidden in his gaze. Kíli's face heated as the blond's fingers moved back into his hair and he felt their legs slide together under the water.
"Lean back and let me wash your hair," Fíli requested, and Kíli let his body relax as the other dwarf pushed him gently down. Fíli's forearm kept him floating in the water while the blond began working his fingers through the long dark strands, pulling away the stones and dirt caught between them with ease.
"You don't have to pretend to be strong my brother, not with me," Fíli mentioned and the two dwarves locked gazes.
"You are strong, I know you are," Fíli insisted and Kíli smiled weakly in response. He didn't feel very strong in that moment, but the blond's words still made him feel a bit lighter inside.
"I've seen what you've gone through, what you've recovered from. I know how determined you are, how fierce and wilful," Fíli laughed lightly and let his fingers settle at the base of his brother's neck.
"I will never be disappointed in you, you can trust me Kíli. I mother you because I love you, and you are dear to me. I don't like watching you suffer," Fíli explained earnestly. Kíli's eyes fluttered closed and the sun beamed down on him, warming his face and shoulders. He felt Fíli shift beneath the water, and turned his head gently to the side as the other dwarf's breath cascaded across his cheeks.
"Please don't hide from me again," Fíli requested, and Kíli opened his eyes once more to peer into his brother's open blue irises.
"I won't," he swore, and he inhaled quickly when Fíli brushed a kiss across his brow. Kíli felt exposed beneath his brother's searching gaze, and he shrugged his shoulders slightly and tried to sink further into the water.
"When we go back inside you're letting Óin look at your wounds," Fíli insisted, and he pulled Kíli close to the river's edge and tugged him down in his lap. There was no room for argument, and Kíli slouched slightly but eventually slumped back against the other dwarf. Wiry hairs scratched against his torso and Kíli nibbled at the inside of his cheek as his heart pounded in his chest.
"Okay," he muttered, finally letting himself relax as Fíli worked the kinks out of his shoulders and neck. He felt secure despite his nudity, and as the blond's arms reached around his body and came to rest above his belly Kíli closed his eyes and sank completely into the older dwarf's embrace. It was nice to have some time alone with his brother, away from everyone else, away from any judgemental eyes, and he barely felt the throbbing in his arm as Fíli pressed another kiss beneath his ear and hugged him tight.
Kíli pouted in the large wooden chair as Óin prodded at his arm with a frown. The healer was visibly angry with him, treating him much more roughly than usual. Kíli flinched frequently at the jabbing motions against his elbow and Thorin loomed over him with an unreadable expression on his face.
"You are bruised," Óin muttered, and Kíli rolled his eyes slightly at the statement. Any idiot could have spotted the bruising running down the length of his arm. It was dark purple and stood out on his skin like a sore thumb. Óin only tugged harder at his arm as he began wrapping bandages around him to hold everything in place.
"It was likely only a sprain, but you're lucky this is healing as well as it is, you should have come to me straight away," Óin seethed, sending a pointed glare in Kíli's direction for good measure. The brunet slouched beneath the scrutiny and looked up towards his uncle with unsure eyes, but Thorin remained silent as the healer finished up and pulled away.
"There were many places in which your bones never fully mended. You need to rest, go easy on your body," Óin insisted as he stood and folded his arms across his chest.
"Be careful of this arm, it won't take much to break again," the older dwarf intoned, with a single nod towards the bandaged lump tied to Kíli's side. As Óin left the room the brunet sat up gingerly and waited warily for his uncle to chastise him some more. Thorin pushed away from the support beam he leant against and stepped in front of him but no admonishing words came. It seemed like the stoic dwarf stared down at him for ages, and Kíli was genuinely surprised when his uncle knelt in front of him and touched his cheek in concern.
"Do you wish to continue?" he drawled, his blue eyes studying Kíli's face for any sign of uncertainty.
"There is no shame if your answer is no," he insisted, and Kíli opened and closed his mouth a few times before lowering his gaze. His heart constricted as he realised just how much he was endangering the rest of the company. His weakness was holding everyone back, causing far more harm than he ever meant it to.
"A-am I….am I slowing you down?" Kíli stumbled over the words, fearing the worst. Thorin sighed heavily and leaned back as he studied his nephew's anguished face.
"No Kíli," Thorin spoke carefully, but Kíli knew he was lying to spare his feelings. The brunet's lower lip began to shake and he tugged his arms close to his body in defense, just as the door slammed open and Fíli came charging into the room, his hands struggling to balance two oversized cups atop equally large plates.
"What's going on?" the blond asked agitatedly, his eyes sending imaginary daggers in Thorin's direction. The older dwarf looked between the two for a moment and shook his head with a pained smile before standing back up. He directed his gaze towards Kíli again and let his hand fall to rest on the lad's shoulder.
"Forget I mentioned it my nephew," Thorin voiced with a regretful nod.
"Rest well while we are here," he suggested as he turned to leave. He paused only to touch Fíli's shoulder for a moment in greeting and then left his nephews alone. Fíli watched the door close behind his uncle as he steadied his breath and then the blond approached his brother and pulled a chair up in front of him, setting the cups down on a nearby table.
"What was that about, I heard your heart cry out," Fíli mentioned, bowing his head low so that he could see his brother's face. Kíli's eyes were wet with unshed tears and his nostrils were flaring as he breathed in and out through his nose.
"Do you think I should stay be-behind?" Kíli croaked, his voice breaking away on the final word. Fíli gaped at him and pushed his brother's hair back away from his neck. It was wavy and untamed after drying beneath the afternoon sun, and Fíli's fingers dragged down through the long strands before grabbing hold of Kíli's shoulders.
"No," Fíli stated with surety.
"No, I need you by my side," he admitted, placing his palm over Kíli's heart. Fíli stared at it for a while as he listened to the rhythmic beating, and when he raised his eyes to his brother's the dark irises were watching him fondly. It was the first time anyone had ever claimed to need Kíli, and the younger dwarf felt his heart surge with happiness. Fíli smiled and shifted closer, the chair scratching against the flooring, and then the blond raised his hands to stroke the skin on Kíli's face. He let one of his thumbs lower enough to graze across his brother's lower lip, and when he heard the brunet's heart jump excitedly several times Fíli leaned forwards and joined their mouths in a kiss. He didn't push the kiss further, instead lingering on the exterior of his brother's lips, tugging and nipping, pressing chaste kisses against his brother's skin. Fíli dragged his tongue around the edge of Kíli's mouth, pulling away when the action drew a tiny gasp from the other dwarf.
"F-Fee, I…," Kíli stuttered, and his face reddened attractively. The brunet leaned forwards slightly and Fíli playfully pulled away for a moment before connecting their lips again with a smile. He kept it slow, gentle, just tiny surface kisses that didn't feel rushed or indicative of anything else. Kíli didn't need that kind of pressure placed upon him, especially not while injured and clearly stressed. The next time Fíli pulled away he brushed their noses together and placed his hand back on his brother's chest, listening as their hearts beat in tandem with one another. It was the first kiss he had ever shared with Kíli in such a way, and Fíli could not have asked for anything more.
"Here, drink some of this tea. Dori says it will lessen the swelling," Fíli spoke, sounding slightly out of breath, and he pulled away and handed his brother one of the cups still sitting nearby. Kíli stared down into the aromatic liquid before taking a long sip and closing his eyes at the soothing taste. His skin still felt flushed, and when Kíli blinked at his brother through the rising steam, the other dwarf smirked at him teasingly, his eyes alight with mischief. The brunet nibbled at his lip and took another sip to hide his embarrassment, but his heart gave him away regardless.
When the two rose to join the rest of the company for dinner it was in much brighter spirits. Kíli leaned into his brother's side throughout the meal, and Fíli grinned as the brunet finally ate more than a few bites of honeyed bread. Kíli seemed almost like his old self, teasing Bilbo light-heartedly and conversing with the rest of the dwarves. Fíli watched him tenderly, and he casually slid his arm around the other dwarf's waist as he crunched away at an apple. The makeshift sling around his brother's shoulder still worried him slightly, but all in all, things were looking much better. His eyes drifted towards Kíli's smile, and Fíli couldn't help but imagine what their next kiss might be like, and what else it might lead to.
Once the company was sated and ready to set foot into the Greenwood, Kíli's arm had nearly healed. He was able to remove the sling, and though some bruising still remained along the edge of his elbow, Óin gave him permission to use it so long as he stayed careful. The brunet gleefully picked up his bow and aimed at an animal, only halting when Beorn growled threateningly from behind him. Kíli lowered it sheepishly and instead aimed towards nothing, merely testing out the strength of his arm. He was shaky, but it didn't hurt, and Fíli helped him stretch the muscles and massage the joint whenever his arm began to lock up.
Fíli had not kissed him again, not on the lips, but the blond showed his affection in other ways as they walked with the company towards the forest. He braided his hair in intricate patterns that made it clear for any dwarf who looked that they were beginning a romantic relationship with one another. And he walked at Kíli's side instead of in front or behind him as they set foot towards the forest. Fíli often asked his brother's opinion when asked a question, as though it was equally important to his own in determining his answer, and when they settled down to rest at night the other dwarf worked away tirelessly on a trinket and Kíli woke one morning with a wooden feather dangling at the base of his neck. The other dwarfs paid little mind, likely already suspecting that something had been brewing between the two, but they did receive the occasional leery glance or suggestive smirk.
As the dwarves stepped over the threshold into the Greenwood, Fíli reached out and grabbed his brother's hand, entangling their fingers together tightly. It was evident something was strange about the forest the moment they began walking along the barely visible path. It smelled unpleasant, almost mouldy, and Kíli's head felt fuzzy and his thoughts more disoriented than usual. He lost his bearings several times, relying on his brother to keep him moving in the right direction. At night it was darker than death, and Kíli clung to Fíli's tunic for fear of losing him in the endless black surroundings. Not a single star was visible beneath the treetops, and during the day the barest amount of light leaked through to guide their way.
The forest warped things, even changing the sound of their beating hearts. To Kíli it was like a low drum, menacing and frightening. It reminded him of things he wanted desperately to forget, and it took an incredible amount of mental strength to keep his body moving instead of cowering in a ball on the ground. He was torn between listening to it to remind him of his brother and keep him sane, and pushing the ominous sounds away, pretending he couldn't hear them at all. Fíli's mood began to sour the longer they spent in the cursed woods. He became irritable, angry, and violent, even with the other dwarves. When someone dared to shove his brother lightly Fíli growled and nearly drew his blades in retaliation. Thorin pushed him away and Kíli grabbed the back of his tunic, struggling to prevent a fight, while the others shouted curses and argued amongst one another.
In the nights Fíli woke with an incurable lust looming in his gut. He felt anxious. His body itched all over and something urged him to act in ways he never would have otherwise. His fingers lingered at his sides as he turned to breathe in his brother's scent, and one night it proved too much to fight. He rolled over quickly and pushed Kíli to the forest floor, pulling a surprised gasp from his brother's lips. Fíli could scarcely see the brunet beneath the cover of darkness, only catching the fearful glint in his wide eyes. It didn't stop him from leaning down and dragging his teeth threateningly across the younger dwarf's skin. Kíli trembled and pushed his fingers against Fíli's chest weakly in defense.
"F-Fíli, please, s-stop," Kíli whispered, as Fíli breathed against his neck and held his wrists roughly atop the ground. The blond warred internally as he struggled to take control of his actions, but as he leaned closer to the other dwarf's warmth he groaned and pressed a knee between his brother's legs and pushed them apart. Fíli nearly growled, and he ran his tongue along the length of Kíli's neck slowly.
"You're scaring me," Kíli whimpered, tensing beneath him and Fíli pulled away in shock as his brother's heart began beating frantically while he trembled against the ground. Fíli stared down at him in horror, and even though he could barely see the other dwarf, he was sure there were tear tracks glistening on his face. Fíli collapsed on top of him and let go of the other dwarf's wrists, bringing his hands up to cradle Kíli's head. He was angry that the forest was controlling him, making him hurt the one he loved, and he whispered endless apologies against the other dwarf's skin, barely managing to sleep at all.
When the spiders attacked them Fíli fought them off in an uncontrollable rage. He took his anger out on them, tearing off their limbs and slicing through their bodies easily. He enjoyed the feeling of his blades sinking into their carcasses, revelled in the sound that it made. Kíli seemed distressed and worried, still recovering from the effects of venom running through his veins, and it wasn't until Fíli was locked away in a cell that he began to question his sanity. He wondered if his brother truly feared him, if he was slowly turning into some kind of monster. Fíli began to doubt that Kíli loved him, for who could possibly devote themselves to a dwarf so rash and wild, and the blond wondered if their relationship was completely one-sided on his part. He was sure his actions in the forest had scared his brother away for good.
Fíli watched as Kíli spoke to the elf woman with longing eyes. Jealousy brewed in his mind, digging its claws deep into his chest, and his heart beat rapidly as the two smiled and gazed at one another like long lost lovers. He felt Kíli's heart speed up, and he knew the other dwarf was somewhat happy despite his imprisonment within the elven prison. Fíli frowned and scratched at the stone wall crossly. It was true they had never mutually declared their love for one another, never made any vows, but Fíli had always assumed that his brother felt a connection as strong as he did. Perhaps he was wrong to think so.
Their imprisonment lasted for what felt like years, and Fíli began trying to block the sound of his brother's heart from his mind. It was impossible. No matter what he did, how hard he focused, the rhythm always persisted. He made sure not to look towards the other dwarf, and pretended to be asleep or otherwise occupied whenever he could sense his brother craving his attention. He needed to distance himself from Kíli, as soon as he was able, or his heart would only shatter more powerfully in the end.
Fíli ignored his brother as they were freed from the cells, not even checking to see if he was okay. The dwarves loaded up into the barrels and Fíli barely glanced at the other dwarf, even though he heard a hint of terror in his nadadith's heart. It hurt the blond to treat his little brother in such a manner, but he knew it would be nothing compared to the pain inflicted upon his soul when he looked into Kíli's eyes and saw him longing for another. Fíli gritted his teeth as his barrel rocked violently in the river. He winced as it knocked against something solid and scrambled to steady it with his body weight. The tiny space was stifling, even worse than the small jail cell he'd been locked away in for so many days. He felt his breathing becoming erratic, and his eyes flashed open when he realised something was strangely absent. He could not hear his brother's heart.
Fíli gasped at the strange silence in his soul, and immediately regretted ever wishing he could block out the familiar thrumming. Even if Kíli did not love him, their connection was far too valuable to just give up. Fíli pushed against the wooden panels around him, and prayed to the gods that Kíli was alright, that he hadn't drowned or panicked inside his own barrel to the point of asphyxiation. Scenario after scenario raced through his thoughts. What if there had been a leak, and water had poured in around his brother's body, rising slowly until he could not escape it. Or what if his barrel had landed poorly in the rapids and burst open, Kíli's body breaking along with the wood. Fíli squeezed his eyes shut as his barrel rounded a corner and scraped roughly against something outside. He was getting nauseous and was likely just minutes away from giving in and puking his guts out, when he felt the barrel slow down and jerk to a halt. Not long after, the top was removed and he squinted and covered his face as light streamed inside upon him. He hurried to climb out, and scrambled ashore, looking around frantically as the other barrels eventually reached the shoreline.
He let out a relieved sigh when he heard Kíli's heart again, and watched carefully as his brother climbed onto dry land in one piece. The brunet was drenched from head to toe, but was moving, and Fíli forced himself to look away as the other dwarf stood up and stumbled around on the rocks. Fíli could not help but remember what he had witnessed in the elven prison, and he wasn't ready to face that knowledge head on. The blond walked further up shore and began the arduous task of wringing out his clothes, watching as the liquid dripped down upon the rocks below his feet. Everyone was grumbling and soaked, trying to shake the water from their beards and hair, and Thorin seemed to be getting into some kind of argument with Bilbo over his method of escape.
"Fíli?" his brother's voice rang out not far behind him, and Fíli faltered for a moment, and barely looked over his shoulder, before he continued walking away from the other dwarf. He felt a hand touch his shoulder and shook it off, suddenly halting at the pained cry that came from Kíli's lips.
"Fíli please, what have I done, why are you…," the younger dwarf begged, and Fíli turned towards him with deceptively steady eyes.
"I heard it," he muttered, and Kíli stared at him in confusion as he waited for his brother to continue.
"Your racing heart," Fíli explained, and still Kíli glowered at him blankly. Fíli ran a hand through his sopping hair and looked towards the other dwarf's feet.
"Do you love her?" he asked quietly, and he heard his brother heave in and out in frustration.
"Love who?" Kíli hissed, and Fíli watched as the brunet pulled his arms around his chest and hunched his shoulders as a gust of wind blew by.
"The elf, the red haired one," Fíli managed to blurt out, and the reaction was instantaneous.
"No!" Kíli shouted, his eyes wide as he stared at his brother in disbelief.
"Do not lie to me Kíli!" Fíli roared, and a few members of the company backed away at what appeared to be a brewing quarrel, likely violent if the fire in Fíli's eyes was anything to go by. In the end it did not escalate any further. The blond snarled for a few moments but calmed immediately when Kíli's heart wavered and began to ache. The beating didn't sound anything like it usually did. It was strained, and sorrowful, and made him imagine wilted flowers and dying trees. Fíli had never heard such an anguished sound before.
"Fíli," Kíli whispered, tears clinging to his lashes along with whatever remained from the river water.
"Listen," he implored the other dwarf, though Fíli was already focused only on his brother.
"Can you not see I am telling the truth, can you not hear it?" the brunet lamented, as he pressed fingers tellingly into his chest. Fíli's eyes followed the movement, before lifting back towards the other dwarf's face in realization.
"You needn't worry, it is your heart that beats beside mine, not hers," Kíli swore with a small shake of his head.
"When my heart races, so too does yours, and that time in the dungeon, my heart was racing not because of Tauriel, but because yours raced while watching me. Haven't you noticed? That our hearts always beat the same?" Kíli breathed, and Fíli lifted his chin and turned his attention inwards. It was suddenly so obvious when he listened to their hearts beating in unison, like they always had. For some reason it never occurred to him before. He was always so focused on the sound of Kíli's heart that he failed to listen to his own. How could he have been so blind?
"I love you, only ever you," Kíli confessed, and Fíli stepped closer and held out a hand to brush at the other dwarf's chin.
"I promise," Kíli sighed as he let his head lean into his brother's gentle grip. It was then that Fíli noticed the pain the other dwarf was in. Kíli was hunched, shivering, and Fíli could only imagine the cold he must have felt in his bones. He saw the ache in his brown eyes, and the way he clutched his ribs desperately. The journey had not been kind to his brother. Life had not been kind to him. Fíli stepped even closer and pulled his brother towards him with a shaky arm. The brunet fell against him instantly and Fíli scrunched up his brow at the sound of the other dwarf's erratic breathing.
"I could not hear you whilst in the barrel, nadad," Kíli stuttered as he pushed his face against the blond.
"I feared the worst," Kíli sobbed into his chest and Fíli's grip tightened further around his body. The brunet was cold to the touch, and his clothing still dripped continuously across the ground. Fíli felt guilt weighing down his shoulders and he struggled to maintain his composure.
"I'm sorry I doubted you," Fíli murmured against his face, and then he brushed their brows together and studied the other dwarf intently. He wanted to kiss him, but it wasn't the time. He wanted the next kisses they shared to be passionate and loving, he did not want to have to hold back. Even as he stood there Thorin was already shouting commands and rushing the company onwards. No one wanted to move, but they had little time to waste. Fíli ushered his brother along beside him, eyeing Thorin's unpleasant aura. He was worried. He'd never seen his uncle quite so possessed with a task before. But as he caught sight of his brother wincing with every step he took, his attention was quickly redirected.
"You're hurt," Fíli stated, running his hand down the other dwarf's back in concern, but Kíli shook his head and smiled at him wearily.
"No, it's just…the cold," the brunet insisted, and Fíli drew him closer and tried to keep him relatively warm. Everyone was irritable, even their burglar. The dwarves kept their heads down and conversed little. Not even Bofur wore his usual cheerful grin, his curled hat sagging beneath the weight of so much water. The nearer the group came to the mountain, the harsher Thorin's command became. His patience was wearing thin, and Fíli did not like the strange gleam developing within his uncle's gaze.
Thorin stood by a window and stared out towards his long lost home broodingly. It had been years since the dwarf last laid eyes upon Erebor, and from his current distance, it looked exactly as he remembered. He knew that was merely an illusion, that once he set foot at the base of the mountain he would see Dale, burned to the ground and left in ruin. He knew he would find much the same within his old beloved home. But it only made him feel more anxious and determined to take back what was rightfully his.
Thorin snorted angrily and pulled his gaze away, glancing through the cabin towards the rest of the company. They were acting foolishly, sucking up the so called generosity of men as they relaxed in Lake-town. Thorin did not have the patience for it. He wanted to get on already, to find the location of the hidden door and make sure they did not arrive too late. He would not let this journey go to waste!
But the company was weak, weary, and regrettably needed rest. His eyes lingered on his nephews as they settled in for the night. The two dwarves seemed closer than ever, and Thorin knew Fíli's interest in the quest was wavering in favour of his brother's health. The blond looked only towards Kíli, and never towards their destination. Kíli was a weakness, a threat to them all, and Thorin regretted allowing his youngest nephew to ever come along. He served only as a distraction. Thorin frowned as he watched the two brothers share a lingering kiss, feeling distrustful of their dedication to the task at hand. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to look elsewhere, shoving his hands absently into his pockets. Thorin paused as his fingers brushed up against the parchment he still carried hidden away. It had remained with him throughout the entire trip, and though the image upon it was blurred unrecognizably from water, and the paper crinkled and torn, it still served as a reminder of his wrongdoings.
Thorin took a shaky breath and calmed as he leaned against the wall in support. He tried not to let his anguish show, instead ducking his head slightly and turning to the side. The older dwarf shook his head somewhat in disbelief, wondering how his thoughts had suddenly turned so dark. He mentally cursed himself for doubting his nephews, even for a moment. They were loyal to a fault, too loyal. Both of them had followed him so far, and continued to even after facing the trials that obstructed their path. They deserved to share some moments of happiness with one another, deserved to find love with each other. How dare he judge them in such a way? If anything Thorin was to blame. Was he not the one putting them in danger?
Thorin rubbed at his face tiredly, feeling far older than he had upon leaving the Blue Mountains. His mind was jumbled and confused. He was second guessing everything, acting rash, and failing to control his temper. He wanted to relax with the others, enjoy what time they had left together, but there was something constantly itching at his soul. He felt a pull, towards the mountain, and the closer he got to it, the stronger it became. Thorin felt moisture welling in his eyes as he imagined for a moment that he was changing, turning into someone else entirely. He scrunched his eyelids tightly closed, and willed the thoughts away. He was not his grandfather. He was Thorin Oakenshield. He had a sister, and two nephews he loved dearly. He had a company of loyal dwarves that followed him across the lands, no matter what obstructed their path. He would not let them down.
Thorin sat down slowly, and he tried to relax enough to get some sleep, but his shoulders remained tense as he glanced out the window again. He was antsy, and wanted nothing more than to get up and continue marching towards his destination, regardless of whether or not the rest of the company followed in his stead. Instead he narrowed his eyes and watched the horizon fearfully, his fingers clenching tightly into fists. He didn't know what to think anymore.
Kíli's first opinion of Erebor was not pleasant. He found it oppressive despite its overwhelming size. The mountain towered above him, and continued deep beneath the earth for miles. He took in the vast amount of gold warily and watched the way the wealth of the mountain enraptured his uncle and warped his very being. Thorin was possessed, changed, and he basked amongst the jewels without ever getting a wink of sleep. It was as though he was petrified, that should he close his eyes for but a moment, someone might steal it all out from beneath his very feet. Everyone could see it, everyone was afraid, but none quite so much as Kíli. He was reminded of a dwarf that once loomed over him, looked down at him disdainfully, as though his very presence in the world was like a curse.
The dwarves were ordered to search the halls endlessly for the Arkenstone, pouring over the sea of gold and jewels, day and night. Kíli looked tirelessly for the precious gem, if only to please his uncle and gain his respect, but no matter how hard he looked, he came out empty handed. It seemed an impossible task. A thousand times harder than finding a needle in a haystack. After days trifling through the golden piles, barely a dent had been made, and there was absolutely no sign of the King's jewel. The brunet sighed despairingly as he collapsed atop the piles in exhaustion. He felt like giving up and resting, but as he glanced up to the colonnade he could see his uncle's shadow hovering there, keeping watch, and then Kíli's eyes connected with icy blue, and his breath hitched at the disgust settled deep within the older dwarf's gaze. He stood on shaky legs and continued his search, no matter how impossible the task.
The young dwarf knew his uncle was lost, but he had not realised quite how much until Thorin guided him and Fíli through the caverns deep below. They came to rest atop an immense room and the older dwarf gestured out at the levels and pathways that seemed to continue endlessly into the depths beneath the mountain. Kíli swallowed nervously as he recognized what lay beneath the intricate walkways, and couldn't help the way his feet staggered back away from the terrace in surprise.
"Behold, the great mines of Erebor," Thorin bellowed, his arm held out beyond the ledge as he stared fondly at the elaborate contraptions and interlocking lanes below.
"Where our jewel was once found," Thorin intoned, and his gaze travelled towards Kíli as he signalled to another of the dwarves down below. Suddenly the ground shook as huge pistons began shifting back and forth. The forges boomed to life, and an eerie glow lit the channel and flashed within Thorin's eyes. Kíli inhaled in fear as chain links hitched and groaned, moving carts of age old jewels across the entire length of the mine. There were so many sounds, cranking, screeching, deep heavy droning, and Kíli could feel the vibrations reverberating in his bones. He stumbled slightly, and fell away even further, until his back pressed against the wall near the entrance. His eyes widened as he cowered at the sounds echoing through the chamber, and Fíli turned towards him with concerned eyes.
"F-Fíli, I-I can't," Kíli stuttered, and with one last glance at the other two dwarves, the brunet gasped painfully and fled from the room. Fíli twisted to go after him but Thorin gripped his tunic fiercely and pulled him back.
"Let him go, nephew," the older dwarf demanded, releasing the blond after a few moments, feeling confident that his heir would heed his words and stay. But instead Fíli backed away, looking at his uncle warily as he shook his head. Thorin growled at him threateningly, but the blond seemed unaffected, and he frowned at his uncle before chasing after Kíli worriedly. Thorin stood above the mines in disbelief, and then he pulled a gemstone from one of the passing carts and threw it into the cavern angrily. The sound echoed ominously as it ricocheted off every surface it hit, and Thorin's gaze darkened as he stared down at the mines pensively.
Someone had betrayed him, he was sure of it. The other dwarves were acting strange, skittish, and many seemed to have lost interest in the search for the Arkenstone altogether. He couldn't trust anyone, not even his own nephews. It was one of them, it had to be. Someone was scheming, behind his back, plotting some kind of rebellion. Thorin had seen the others conversing quietly in hidden alcoves within the halls. Did they think him an idiot? Surely Fíli knew better, surely his heir would not rise up against him in revolt. No, it was definitely the spare. His blue gaze burned with ire while his thoughts became focused on one thing in particular.
He had to eliminate the weakest link.
Kíli was fading, and quickly. Each day felt closer to his last. The halls of Erebor towered over him, and made his throat catch in short heaving gasps. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't eat, he couldn't sleep. The mines were always running deep within the caverns, even though there were so few dwarves to man them. The floors shook constantly beneath his feet, and he clung to ledges and walls as he walked, worried that an explosion might throw him to the ground at any moment. Kíli spent every waking second looking over his shoulders fearfully. He was avoiding everyone else, especially Thorin. Kíli had not spoken to his uncle in over a week. Anytime he saw the other dwarf he ducked around the nearest corner and hurried to find a safe place to hide, somewhere far away from the mines. Sometimes he heard the older dwarf calling out his name, the sound echoing through the halls menacingly. Even Fíli's heart beating alongside his own was not enough to keep him calm.
Kíli peeked around a corner and then hesitantly took a step into the hallway ahead. His stomach was grumbling painfully, and he desperately needed a bite to eat, but it was too risky to join the other dwarves in the pantry. Even though Thorin spent much of his time eyeing the wealth within the mountain, he could easily have shown up for a meal at any time. Kíli inched towards the pantry, listening carefully for signs of other dwarves. He could hear Bofur conversing with his brother, but no one else, and the brunet sighed and tried to relax his shoulders as he approached. His neck was unbelievably tense from holding such a strained position for so long, and he closed his eyes and stretched it painfully to the side.
When he opened them he was met with his uncle's penetrating blue gaze. Kíli inhaled in surprise and froze, his eyes widening as he stared back at the other dwarf. Thorin looked menacing, dressed in heavy intricate armour, gold and jewels braided into his beard and hair. Just as Kíli was contemplating running in the opposite direction, his hunger be damned, the other dwarf spoke.
"Kíli," Thorin's deep tenor boomed down the hall, and his expression was deceptively calm. Kíli didn't move an inch.
"Come with me," the older dwarf commanded, and Kíli eyed him warily, his legs tensing as he quickly glanced off towards the side. He did not want to follow Thorin anywhere, not alone, and not within the mountain. He wanted to turn tail and risk the other dwarf's wrath, hope blindly that someone might come to his rescue.
"Now!" Thorin shouted, shaking the brunet to his very core, and Kíli took an unstable step towards him. He clutched his tunic like a security blanket and stepped the remaining distance towards his uncle, trying desperately to hide the trembling of his form. Once Thorin was sure he was following the older dwarf turned and began leading Kíli deeper into the mountain, up staircases and through pathways the brunet was unfamiliar with. The tremors in the walls became stronger, and the sounds of the mines louder. Kíli shuffled slowly behind his uncle, knowing that he would not like where they were headed.
Light emanated through the archways ahead, and it flickered off the golden trim decorating the great pillars along their path. Kíli could see his uncle's form clearly outlined by the strange ominous glow, and it seemed to pulse along with his beating heart. Eventually Thorin stopped, standing at a railing, and he turned towards Kíli and gestured him to approach. The younger dwarf knew what lay below, and he hesitated and whimpered as his eyes locked onto the flashing lights beyond his uncle.
"Kíli, look," Thorin ordered him, and Kíli's eyes flicked to the side nervously and he hunched slightly forwards but stayed glued to his spot.
"U-uncle, please don't do this," he begged, already knowing it was wishful thinking on his part.
"Look!" Thorin shouted hoarsely, and Kíli flinched but still made no sign of movement. After a few seconds his uncle let out a frustrated noise and stomped towards him, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and dragging him close to the ledge. Kíli screeched and pleaded with the other dwarf to let him go, but it had little effect, and the brunet clung to the railing as he was made to look down upon the molten rivers flowing below. He felt his throat constricting, and it felt as though ice pumped through his veins.
"Have you betrayed me?" Thorin hissed at his side, and the grip on Kíli's neck tightened threateningly.
"N-no!" Kíli stuttered, shaking his head desperately as he watched pistons working continuously in the mines so far beneath them.
"You're planning to overthrow me! You've befriended those pathetic humans in Lake-town! You're plotting with them!" Thorin accused, and he pushed his nephew harder into the railing to enunciate his point.
"U-uncle p-please, I w-wouldn't," Kíli promised, and he cried out in surprise when the other dwarf lifted him over the railing so that he was forced to look straight down into the fiery depths. Kíli screamed and tried to grab hold of anything for support, but he was far too frantic, and if not for Thorin's hold upon his tunic he would have easily slipped and fallen to his death.
"Where is it?!" Thorin shouted, and Kíli sobbed as he shook his body along with his words. Several arrows fell from his quiver, and he watched them spiral towards the ground ominously. He stared blankly in confusion, not sure what madness had taken over his uncle's mind.
"The Arkenstone, I know you have it!" Thorin seethed through gritted teeth, making Kíli narrow his eyes at the absurdity of the statement. The brunet didn't understand. Had he found it, he would have given it to his uncle long ago. It was absolute madness, but Kíli could not manage to put those thoughts into words. The other dwarf was clearly far too blinded by greed to listen to reason, and Kíli was so terrified that not a single muscle in his body chose to respond.
"You little spineless wretch, stealing from your own kin! Perhaps I should dispose of you before you can do anything further!" Thorin snarled, and then he lifted Kíli and began dragging him fully over the railing. The brunet clammed up and kicked out wildly, struggling to get away from his uncle's grasp, but he was not as strong, and he cried out as his hair and necklace dangled, while the rest of his arrows sank into the caverns. Kíli squeezed his eyes shut in terror and felt tears streaming down his face as he weakly grappled with the other dwarf's arm. He thought for sure he was going to die, and he could only imagine how horrific it might feel to have his skin melted from his bones in the molten gold, if he managed to survive such a fall. Kíli was losing what little strength he had as his uncle overpowered him, and then suddenly there was shouting and arms were pulling at his clothes and pulling him back away from the ledge.
"Thorin! Stop this madness!" Balin yelled over the noises, and several dwarves pushed their way between Thorin and his nephew. Kíli crumpled to the ground and skittered away towards the nearest wall, curling in on himself as the other dwarves rushed to protect him. Thorin was throwing insults at everyone, and Fíli looked incensed as he confronted the other dwarf. Bilbo scurried to Kíli's side, failing to get much of a response from the terrorized dwarf, and Dwalin quickly intervened, lifting the young brunet and hoisting him away from the mines. Óin trailed after him, already searching through his pack for herbs with soothing properties. The others remained warily within the alcove, watching as Thorin hurled curses at his eldest nephew, while the blond scuffled with him and pushed him away.
"Why would you bring him here?!" Fíli cried, his expression teeming with rage. He could hear the terror still, his brother's desperate pleas for help.
"Of all places, you knew, you had to," he hissed accusingly, and he slammed his hands against the railing and glance towards the mines.
"He cannot even stand the sounds of the mine in the blue mountain, and you bring him directly into these? You could have killed him! You nearly threw him to his death!" Fíli shouted over the heavy droning of the forges. Thorin showed no signs of regret.
"Have you lost your mind?" Fíli asked, his chest heaving as he breathed deeply in and out. Thorin bared his teeth and fell back against the rampart, a sickening glint shining in his eyes.
"I have no time for dwarves that cannot face their fears! If he cannot handle a mine, what good is he on a battlefield?" Thorin scoffed and held his chin high in the air, looking down upon his nephew in disdain.
"You are maddened, changed, you're not my uncle any longer," Fíli whispered reproachfully, and when Thorin moved to exit Fíli immediately blocked his path. He could not risk the other dwarf finding Kíli again. He'd done more than enough damage already.
"You dare defy me? Your King?" Thorin gasped, eyeing his nephew aggressively, his fingers already moving to linger above the hilt of his sword.
"I will always choose him first. Over anyone, over my friends, over myself, even over my King," Fíli claimed, and then he lowered his gaze in disgust and grimaced at the other dwarf.
"But you are no King of mine," he spoke clearly, and Thorin immediately reacted, drawing his blade and rushing towards him. The rest of the company gasped, but sidled away as Fíli drew his own blades and crossed them to block his uncle's attack. The blond's eyes were like that of a demon, possessed, serious, and focused only on parrying each attack sent his way. Thorin lunged like madman, clashing their blades together furiously. He took in his nephew's blue gaze, the intricate braids that whipped about as he moved to avoid his attacks. Each attack brought visions to the forefront of his mind, and he staggered suddenly when he realised just who he was fighting with.
It was his nephew, his own blood, his heir. He took another swing. Fíli had no right! How dare he revolt! A loud clang rang out in the chamber as their swords knocked together. He was still just a child. Thorin reacted when the other dwarf fought back, swinging at him with purpose. An enemy! He slid to the side, his blade scratching against the stone beneath his feet. He remembered the boys in his arms as he read them a tale, Fíli watching him with attentive eyes. Thorin heaved as he stared the other dwarf down. Greedy! Obnoxious! Cowardly! He shouted loudly and ran at Fíli, pushing him hard against one of the hulking pillars. The blond dropped his swords in surprise and inhaled as a blade pushed up against his neck, brushing against the skin. Thorin met his eyes and grinned in satisfaction, knowing that all he had to do was push forward another inch. Intelligent blue eyes, so eager to learn, to protect his brother. Thorin faltered slightly and his hands began to sweat where they gripped the hilt of his blade.
"Do it," Fíli growled, and one of the other dwarves gasped when Thorin inched forwards slightly.
"I would gladly die for him, defending his honour," Fíli swore and he raised his head and barely winced as the steel cut through the skin of his neck. Thorin's gaze lowered slightly and he furrowed his brow when a drop of blood dripped down the length of his nephew's neck. The blade shook within his grasp and he forced himself away from the blond, letting his arm lower. Fíli slumped against the wall and raised his fingers to wipe across his neck, smearing red across his skin. He glared at his uncle and watched as the other dwarf stared intently at the ground.
"Get out of my sight," Thorin mumbled, and Fíli staggered around him towards the exit. When the other dwarves remained caught in a stunned silence Thorin lifted his sword again and growled at them.
"All of you!" he shouted, and the company quickly escaped, sending wary glances behind their retreating forms. Thorin continued breathing heavily until the last dwarf disappeared down the lengthy hall and then his sword clattered to the ground. The dwarf looked around himself in distress, and then lifted his shaking hands to his head. They were his nephews, like sons to him, how had he turned on them in such a way? He'd nearly killed Fíli, almost sliced right through his neck, and still that was nothing compared to what he'd done to Kíli. He was sure he had inflicted irreparable damage to the brunet, and surely, what remained of the innocent child was lost forever. Thorin's eyes moistened, reddening around the edges, and he crumpled to the ground with an anguished cry.
Fíli stormed through the halls in pursuit of Dwalin and his little brother, and he skidded to a halt when he spotted the dwarves lingering in a shadowy alcove. Kíli was trembling in a ball on the ground and Óin knelt in front of him and struggled to catch his attention. Fíli hurried to where Dwalin stood on guard, and the large dwarf nodded in relief at the sight of him but narrowed his eyes when he noticed the streak of blood on his neck.
"Is he alright?" Fíli asked, nudging Óin aside as he reached out to lift his brother's head in his hands. The brunet's eyes were open, but unseeing, and he made no signal of recognition when Fíli looked directly at him.
"He won't respond," Óin murmured in defeat, and he shoved his pack aside and scratched at his head worriedly. Kíli was rocking slightly back and forth in a near catatonic state, and they all knew there was not a single herb that could heal him. Fíli could hear his erratic heartbeat, and he focused on that and pressed his brow to his brother's as he tried to bring him back from whatever vision attacked his mind. Fíli's fingers trailed through his brother's hair, and he murmured comforting words against his nose. Kíli inhaled suddenly and raised his eyes, looking towards Fíli from beneath his eyelashes. He whined slightly and squeezed his eyes shut before leaning into the other dwarf, and Fíli enfolded his arms around him comfortingly.
"Kíli, shh, nadadith," the blond whispered into his ear, and he shared a quick look with Dwalin and Óin before moving to stand.
"Grab hold of me," Fíli muttered lowly, and he felt Kíli's arms wrap around his shoulders in return, and then the brunet's fingers clenched tightly in his tunic. Fíli hoisted him easily from the ground, and with a final nod towards the others, made his way to a private bedchamber. There was little still intact within the mountain and everything seemed caked in endless layers of dust, but the furnishings remained. Fíli paid no mind to the state of things, and brushed away the dirt from a bed before placing his brother's form atop the ancient covers. The two lay in silence beside one another, Kíli still looking rather worse for wear. The blond remained patient, watching his brother's face carefully. Kíli's eyes roamed and eventually settled where the open wound tarnished the other dwarf's neck. He swallowed thickly and reached out, running his fingers through the trail of blood and creating an even bigger smudge, before gently dabbing at the wound with his sleeve.
"He really does hate me," Kíli spoke softly and Fíli grasped his brother's hand tightly between his own.
"Kíli, do not think on it, not a word of it," the blond uttered as he tapped beneath Kíli's chin. The brunet raised his face and blinked a few tears from his eyes, while Fíli leaned in and kissed the end of his nose.
"He doesn't mean it. There's a sickness about him, taking hold of his mind. There are moments where I see him fighting against it," the blond insisted. The mountain groaned and the walls trembled slightly as the forges continued working and Kíli inched closer to his brother and sniffled.
"Are you ashamed of me?" the brunet asked, and Kíli sighed as he felt the faintest touch of lips to his brow.
"No, never," Fíli assured him quickly.
"Listen, I know you hear it, what does it say?" the blond demanded, his fingers resting lightly over the other dwarf's chest. It seemed like the connection was stronger than usual, perhaps ever growing, and Kíli listened to their hearts feeling calmed by the sound of them intertwining.
"Nadadith, what does it say?" Fíli pressed, and his lips grazed down the side of his brother's face before making contact with his lips. Their hearts began to race even from such a subtle contact, and Fíli dragged his tongue against the other dwarf's mouth before pulling away. Kíli stared at him with shining eyes, his skin alight with colour, and then he reached up and tugged playfully on the blond's moustache braids.
"You are mine, and I am yours," Kíli voiced, sounding much steadier than he had moments before. Fíli smiled gently and moved closer to kiss him again, while his hands roamed lower and began unfastening the buckles at his brother's waist. Kíli gasped and let Fíli's lips take control, and then he moaned unintelligibly when the other dwarf pushed the shirt from his shoulder and lowered his head to suck heatedly at the freshly bared skin. The brunet jolted forwards into his brother's form and even Fíli was caught off guard as their bodies aligned atop the bed. He groaned loudly and continued kissing down his brother's collar, until he finally placed a much gentler kiss atop his brother's heart. Fíli heard the brunet's heart rate jump slightly, and then he flipped him onto his back and landed hard above him. Dust flew up from the duvet, sending both dwarves into coughing fits, and then Kíli snickered as he struggled to clear his throat. The blond waved some of the clouds away and hovered over the other dwarf, watching his brother fondly. It was refreshing to see Kíli's smile, and Fíli grinned slightly before bending low to take his lips once more.
Kíli jumped over a fallen body and rolled to the ground as it rumbled from the stampeding armies. A warg stormed at him, and Kíli hurried to pull an arrow from his quiver, shooting the beast straight on only inches before its snarling teeth tore into his form. He ducked to avoid a blade, and then hurried to his feet and ran through the throng of fighting towards the cliffs beyond the mountain. Kíli knew his uncle was at the top, chasing after Azog the defiler in an effort to send the orc army into chaos. He couldn't let Thorin die, he had to help, no matter what, and Kíli frantically searched for a path up the mountainside. He heard his brother call after him worriedly, but continued on regardless, jumping over rocky ledges and struggling to climb towards the top.
He had to fight alongside his uncle, not only to prove his worth, but also to protect him and keep his King safe. No matter what, Kíli would defend the other dwarf to his death, even if Thorin hated him. Kíli pulled his body over an icy ledge and searched the landscape quickly, his eyes widening as they landed on his uncle struggling to avoid blow after blow from the monstrous orc. Azog towered over him, and Kíli could see several wargs closing in around Thorin as well. He rubbed the sweat from his eyes and nocked an arrow, sending it flying at the first one to lunge. Several more followed and Kíli hurriedly shot them to the ground, pausing only as his feet slipped across the ice covered river. He staggered and his hand landed in snow, and Kíli quickly pulled it away, shaking out his fingers as they threatened to clam up from the cold.
Thorin dodged another attack and eyed the fallen wargs around him as Azog turned towards the source of the arrows. The dwarf King's eyes opened wide as he caught sight of his youngest nephew and he hurled his blade at the pale orc in an attempt to draw his attention once again. Azog laughed as Kíli approached sending an arrow at the orc that was easily swiped away.
"What are you doing here?!" Thorin shouted anxiously, and Kíli grinned at him and slid to the side as Azog moved towards him instead. Thorin immediately lunged at the orc, slicing through his skin, desperately trying to distract him from his nephew. Azog growled and twisted towards the dwarven King, reaching out to knock him in the chest, and Thorin stumbled to the ground at the impact.
"Kíli, go!" Thorin shouted as he scrambled to his feet, feeling his throat close in as the pale orc grinned menacingly and made for his nephew again, swinging his flail towards the ice. It cracked in several places and Kíli reeled back, struggling to gain his balance as the ice shifted beneath his feet.
"Please, go!" Thorin begged, but Kíli made no attempt to run away, and instead stood in front of the orc ready to fight. Thorin felt his heart sinking, and he gripped his bruised chest and hobbled closer, but not before the orc smashed his flail again atop the frozen wasteland. Kíli gasped as the ice broke around his feet, his bow slipping from his fingers, and then Azog was upon him. The brunet cried out as he was hit head on in his side, and his arm shattered when he fell to the ground heavily. His feet slid into freezing water and Kíli groaned painfully as the orc loomed over his body menacingly. Thorin was struggling to get closer, practically crawling across what remained of the river, and Kíli looked towards him with desperate eyes.
Thorin shook his head as he watched Azog grip his nephew by his tunic and suddenly the orc hoisted him along the ice and shoved his body beneath the surface of the water. Kíli gurgled and struggled weakly in his grasp, choking on the water that invaded his lungs. Cold over took his form, and his body seized up, going limp in the orc's hold upon him. He could hear children laughing at him, surrounding him, and Kíli's heart skipped as fear invaded his mind. He had a single moment to gasp for air as Azog lifted him from the water, but then he was quickly thrown back in, and this time the orc let him go. Kíli shuddered as he sank under the ice, his heavy tunic and boots weighing him down. His arms flailed in front of him, coming in contact with the solid ice above him, and he dragged his nails across it as his body flowed along with the current. He couldn't breathe, couldn't see, his eyes and throat burned as the cold washed over his form. He was certain he was going to die, cold, alone, and having failed to defend his kin.
His eyes began to close, and then he felt the ice crash down above him and two hands gripped his tunic and pulled hard. Kíli convulsed as air filled his lungs, and he shivered as his body was dragged atop the snow. He couldn't feel his legs, and his eyes blurred in and out of focus as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. Bofur was looking down at him, and Ori was not far beyond, his eyes blown wide with worry. Kíli's head lolled to the side as he coughed the remaining water from his lungs, and he could see Azog's hulking form moving in the distance. There was a glimpse of blond hair, and then Kíli realised his brother was facing the orc head on, holding him off. He fought viciously, swinging his swords in front of his body to block Azog's ruthless attacks. There were others as well, circling around the orc and approaching carefully. Kíli breathed in roughly as he watched Fíli fighting in the distance. He felt useless, lying in the snow as the other dwarves fought off the wargs moving in on them. Someone threw a blanket atop his body as he was attacked by shivers, and just as his vision began to fade he saw Azog throw his brother to the ground. Fíli's heart stuttered, and his eyes became vacant as he lay still on the frozen ground. Kíli was gasping for air and when he opened his mouth to scream no sound came out. His heart pounded loudly in his ears, along with his brother's, but it was waning, and he slipped into unconsciousness fearing he might never hear the rhythmic sound again.
Kíli woke sluggishly, his eyelids lifting slowly, as though they were weighted down by some invisible force. He could hear the thrumming sound that constantly haunted him, the sound of the powerful mines within Erebor. His legs were in agony, and all he could visualize were Fíli's eyes, empty of any sign of life. His breathing quickened, and he nearly shrieked, but he forced himself to look inwards to find the sound that kept him sane. It was faint, barely there, but he could hear it, the thump, thump, thump, in tandem with his own heart.
The brunet thrashed against the covers, turning his head frantically to the side in search of his brother. He could barely move, and his bones seized up as he tried. He felt feverish and wanted to kick the heavy blankets from his body, but a gentle pressure on his chest kept him from struggling further. Kíli's eyes flew towards the form standing over his bedside, and he shivered as his gaze met Thorin's emotion filled blue eyes. The older dwarf moved to lift the covers higher, so that they settled just beneath Kíli's chin. The brunet frowned as he suddenly realized how clammy his skin was. Shivers ran up and down his spine, but his face and neck felt overheated and feverish. Kíli made a frustrated sound as his uncle's hand found its way to his brow, wiping the sweaty hair from his skin.
"Shh, nephew," he voiced, staring down at Kíli like he was something irreplaceable. Thorin sat down, but remained at his side, looking at him fondly.
"You have hypothermia, and a broken arm, among other injuries," he explained, nodding towards the excessive number of blankets tucked around his nephew's body.
"F-Fíli?" Kíli asked, his voice catching as his throat ached from the strain of speaking. Thorin's lips lifted slightly at the side and he set a hand over his nephew's heart.
"He's alive, you know he is," Thorin spoke calmly, but it did little to soothe the brunet. He remembered his brother falling, Azog knocking him back, and his heart slowing to a halt.
"I c-couldn't, I-, my f-fault," Kíli stuttered, and Thorin bent over him and gripped his jaw firmly.
"He'll be alright Kíli," he intoned, studying his nephew's sorrowful gaze. Kíli shook his head atop the pillow and refused to meet his uncle's eyes, clearly refusing to believe his uncle's words. The older dwarf frowned and brushed several stray hairs behind Kíli's ear, and he scrunched up his brow as he watched Kíli fight against some kind of inner turmoil.
"What have I done to you," Thorin murmured, and his nephew's dark irises looked upon his face in confusion. The older dwarf felt guilt seep through his veins. He knew it was his fault his nephew suffered so much, knew he had made everything so much worse after finding the cursed mountain. Greed had blinded him, controlled him, and forced him to hurt those he held dearest to his heart. Kíli's eyes were so distant, empty of the childlike innocence he once possessed. It made him feel sickened.
"I remember a little dwarf that would stop at nothing to achieve his goals, a dwarf that longed to discover new things, that could imagine the indescribable," Thorin described, and he tilted his head slightly as he watched his nephew closely.
"He had such a sparkle in his dark eyes, and looked at the world like it was the most beautiful place," Thorin continued. Kíli's mouth fell open slightly but he didn't say anything, even as Thorin bowed his head and rubbed furiously at his face.
"I hope…," the older dwarf trailed off and shook his head back and forth before continuing.
"I hope I have not scared what remained of that dwarf away," he mumbled, and his shoulders shook slightly as he began to cry. Never had he fallen apart in such a way, and Kíli gasped lightly when a few tears fell, leaving visible wet marks on the blankets.
"U-uncle," Kíli whispered, and Thorin pulled back and smiled at him shakily before rubbing off his face. He took a few seconds to compose himself as best he could, gently massaging his eyebrows as he took deep breaths. He reached into his tunic, searching for something with purpose, and then he held a crumpled piece of parchment out in front of his nephew. The brunet frowned at the scribble and looked between it and his uncle several times.
"Do you remember this?" Thorin asked him, and Kíli shook his head slightly as he studied the scratchy lines. It looked like someone had taken a quill and let the ink blot out on the parchment randomly, then perhaps let it fall into a water basin to soak some more.
"You drew this, when you just a little thing," Thorin chuckled lightly as he tried to flatten the paper, and his fingers played with the edges that threatened to curl inwards. Kíli narrowed his eyes as he looked at the worn parchment again, wondering why on earth his uncle had kept such a stupid scribble for such a long time.
"It was a bird once," Thorin explained, his thumbs inching across the ink scratches as he leant further over the bed. His gaze lingered on the parchment for a moment and then he put it down atop his nephew's body.
"I'm afraid I've not taken very good care of it, much like you," Thorin admitted, and then he winced and bent forwards until his torso was sprawled over his nephew as well. Kíli's face crumpled as he watched his uncle break down again, his shoulders visibly trembling as he sobbed into the bedding. The brunet blinked tears from his own eyes and tried to come up with something to say. Something that might comfort his uncle and explain that Kíli knew it wasn't his fault. He was never strong with words, Fíli was the one gifted in that department. So he squirmed as much as he was able until he managed to free one of his arms from the nest of blankets. Kíli raised his hand and let it fall gently over his uncle's shoulders. He rubbed gentle circles into the other dwarf's back, silently telling Thorin that everything was alright, that he understood and forgave him long ago.
Kíli's dreams proved troubling and chaotic. He relived the final battle over and over again, in innumerable different ways. Sometimes he fell from the cliff side long before ever reaching the top. In those dreams he was plagued with guilt, knowing that he was more useless than ever, and could not even defend his uncle or aid his brother in battle. Instead he ended up splattered across the rocks, left to stare lifelessly above, until the skies turned dark and the river ran red with the blood of his kin.
In other dreams he made it to the top, only to fall through the ice and drown listening to Azog's cruel laughter as it assaulted him beneath the water. Sometimes he saw Fíli's strained face peering down at him, watched him die, only able to claw at the solid layer of ice above him. Sometimes it was his uncle that loomed above the river, sporting the disappointed gaze that Kíli feared so very much.
The worst of his dreams however, were not about the battle at all; instead they featured the immense mines at the heart of Erebor. He would get lost amongst the winding pathways and find himself trapped in the mazelike caverns, unable to escape as the walls trembled and exploded, destroying the structure around him. He'd stand frozen in place, as cracks appeared along the ground, and molten gold seeped along towards him. It surrounded his body, poured in around him and burned his skin, eventually hardening so that he became stuck inside the solid metal forever, cast in gold for not a soul to remember. He could not hear his brother's heart, nor any sign of another living creature, and spent eternity in darkness all alone.
He woke up several times, always in the same bed, in the same dark room, somewhere within the mountain. More often than not there was no one at his bedside to hear him screaming when he woke, but on occasion his uncle stood nearby and rushed to soothe him, or one of the other members of the company would peer down at him with worry in their eyes. He sometimes woke to Ori reading at his side, or Bilbo holding his hand. He was sure Dwalin and even Nori had occupied the chair beside his bed, watching him carefully through the night. It was never the dwarf he longed to see, and the day his eyes finally opened and looked up into the blue gaze of his brother, Kíli wondered if he had awoken at all, or if perhaps it was just another dream. A pleasant dream for once instead of the terrifying nightmares that plagued him.
"You're alive," Kíli mouthed the words, and Fíli's mouth twitched slightly at the edges in response. The blond looked well, and entirely intact, though he sported a freshly sewn up wound down the length of his face and was holding fast to a cane. Fíli said nothing as the brunet continued to study him, but his eyes shone with emotion, as though he was seeing the other dwarf in a new light, and not long after the blond leaned in and kissed Kíli fervently. The brunet was afraid to close his eyes, should he find himself in the land of nightmares once more, so he watched his brother's blurry face as their hearts merged within his mind and their lips moved together in unison. He felt flushed and feverish, but not uncomfortably so, and when his brother lifted him up slightly by placing a single hand beneath his neck, Kíli allowed his head to fall back as the other dwarf deepened the kiss. He felt hazy and lightheaded, and began to doubt his surroundings even more as he slipped back into sleep.
For days Kíli was sure it was all a dream, and that his brother was truly gone, that one day he might wake up and feel nothing in his heart at all. That day never came, and when he was finally deemed fully recovered it felt unreal and far too good to be true. Fíli was at his side again, holding out an arm to support him, and Kíli took it hesitantly but let the other dwarf lead him around the mountain even as the blond limped slightly and leant heavily on the cane at his other side.
Everything looked different than it had before the battle. The halls were lighter, less constraining, the ceilings tall and grand instead of intimidating. Sunlight streamed into the long pathways through elongated windows and openings far above, casting magical shadows upon everything and making the golden beams sparkle elegantly. It was all so familiar, and yet somehow it felt like he was living in an alternate reality.
Despite his lighter surroundings, nothing quite stopped Kíli's trembling when the mines kicked to life deep within Erebor. He was slowly becoming accustomed to the sound, it was hard not to when he lived amongst it every day. But it was always there, always reminding him of him of his fears, and there were many times Kíli was forced to pause and focus on his brother's heart to keep from cowering alone in a corner. He could not bring himself to look upon the mines, always inching in the opposite direction whenever he glanced down the long pathways that lead to the centre of the mountain. And he still woke in the nights dripping with sweat, sure that the entire mountain had collapsed atop his body, leaving him encased in rubble deep below the earth.
Everyone was on edge around the brunet, and even Thorin kept his distance, unsure whether or not he would be welcome at his nephew's side. The dwarven king could not remember everything he did while under the spell of gold, but he could remember the sight of his youngest nephew cowering in fear because of his threatening words. He saw glimpses of Fíli's angered gaze, staring him down and daring him to act. He even vaguely recalled nearly throwing Bilbo from the mountain, and sending him to a painful death upon the rock face below. Balin had told him things that made the dwarf wish he could turn back time, relive the entire journey and perhaps spare Kíli from so much suffering. He wondered sometimes, if given the chance, might he choose to stay in the Blue Mountains instead, forgo the journey in favour of a peaceful life spent with his family. In Thorin's mind, his actions were deplorable, no matter what curse had controlled him. Kíli may have forgiven him, but Thorin would never forgive himself.
There was a significant change in Kíli. Though he seemed to have much greater control over his reaction to loud sounds, he was visibly tense, his personality muted, and he often isolated himself from others. The brunet frequently stared out over the landscapes surrounding the mountain through unfocused eyes, clearly lost somewhere in his thoughts. Fíli would have liked to take him away into the forests, like he had while in the Blue Mountains, but there was little time for such things with a kingdom to rebuild and treaties to make. The blond spent his days working beside Thorin to learn the duties of acting as King, while he watched his brother's spark continue to fade with each passing day.
On one afternoon Fíli browsed the ancient tomes with Thorin in the study, trying to learn as much about the kingdom of Erebor as possible. Kíli remained off to the side, uninterested in the task of learning so much useless history and Thorin did not have the heart to force him to. It became clear however, that Fíli also held little interest for the subject on that day. The blond's gaze frequently lifted from the pages and drifted to the far corner of the room, where his brother looked out through an archway, his eyes lost as they stared towards the horizon beyond the rolling hills. Thorin followed his eldest nephew's gaze, frowning when he took in Kíli's lacklustre expression and slumped posture. The brunet tapped his fingers idly against some parchment strewn across his lap, but did not seem to be making much progress on whatever he was working on.
As Thorin spoke on one of the passages Fíli's attention returned to him, and the blond nodded at his uncle's words, but the older dwarf did not miss his nephew's surreptitious glances elsewhere in the room. Fíli's face was strained more than usual, and he seemed focused inward, perhaps even troubled by whatever his brother's heart was telling him. Thorin sat back in his seat and reached over in front of his nephew, closing the cover on the book decisively, and when Fíli looked towards him in surprise the older dwarf inclined his head to the side.
"Fíli, go to your brother, your studies can wait," Thorin stated, and the blond gaped at him for a moment before lowering his head and rubbing at the back of his neck embarrassedly. He nodded in thanks and stood to approach his brother, hovering just over the other dwarf's shoulder for a moment as he looked down at the papers in his lap. A light breeze flew through the archway, fluttering the parchment slightly and blowing some of his brother's hair around his face. When he placed a single hand on Kíli's shoulder the brunet startled and turned towards him quickly as his heart jumped in surprise. Fíli smiled at him gently and once Kíli relaxed he shoved his little brother to the side to sit next to him in the alcove.
"What are you working on?" Fíli asked as he adjusted the heavy drapery behind his back. Kíli eyed him slightly and looked down towards his lap, flattening the papers out with a shrug.
"It's nothing really," Kíli muttered as he pushed his hair back over his shoulder.
"Just…just thoughts, useless ideas," he explained vaguely. Fíli leaned into him and wrapped and arm about his brother's shoulders, reaching over to flip through some of the pages curiously. His eyes widened as he took in the diagrams and sketches, fairly rough, as his brother was hardly an artist, but clearly well thought out. Various notes were scribbled along the sides along with some doodles to better describe the way things might work.
"A flying machine," Fíli mentioned, looking into his brother's eyes with a smile. Kíli ducked his head lightly and grimaced as he looked at the diagrams sadly.
"It'll never work," he whispered, his fingers tightening at the edges of the parchment. Fíli tugged him closer playfully, and pressed a sloppy kiss to his temple, drawing a small squeak from the other dwarf's lips. The blond reached out and toyed with the feather necklace his brother still wore and then he let it fall back to its place on the other dwarf's neck.
"If anyone can make such a thing work it is you, nadadith," Fíli encouraged, and Kíli smiled at him in thanks. Fíli played with his long hair for a bit, taking notice of the tiny creases beginning to form in his brother's brow. They weren't old enough yet for such marks of age to develop on their faces, and he rubbed his thumb between Kíli's eyebrows gently end eyed him meaningfully.
"What were you thinking about, just now? When you were staring outside," Fíli asked, and Kíli's gaze lowered as he leant into his brother's embrace.
"You looked lost," Fíli mentioned worriedly, his brow furrowing slightly as he watched Kíli's expression sadden.
"Sometimes, I worry that I am alone," the brunet admitted, and Fíli laughed in surprise but faltered when he noticed just how serious his brother was. Kíli's lashes fluttered slightly and he scuffed his feet on the stone ground.
"I wonder…what if I had lost you. What if…this is a dream and you are not really here at my side. What if…one day I wake up, only to find out you've been gone all along," Kíli described, feeling the way his brother's fingers tightened against his shoulder. A cool gust of wind flew suddenly through the archway behind them, and Kíli shivered as the drapery wafted beside him. Fíli immediately reached out and pulled the curtains shut tying them fast before setting his attention once again on the brunet. He lifted his brother's chin with a single finger and looked into his watery eyes.
"How many hearts do you hear?" Fíli asked, and Kíli raised an eyebrow at the question.
"Two," he answered immediately, but frowned when the blond smirked wryly and shook his head.
"No, listen carefully," Fíli requested, and he rubbed his brother's back soothingly. Kíli made a frustrated face but relaxed and closed his eyes, focusing on the beating sounds. At first, it was the same as usual, his own heartbeat, and then another, beating along beside it at the same pace. They were so similar, so in tune, and as he listened longer it became one sound instead of two. His eyes opened quickly and he raised his head in surprise, turning to look at his brother in revelation.
"O-one," Kíli stuttered softly, and he was met by a beaming grin.
"Aye, one," Fíli repeated, and he pressed a chaste kiss to the tip of Kíli's nose.
"I thought it two for a long time, but now I see. It was you that made me realise. That they always beat the same. It is because we are joined, Kíli. We share a heart," the blond explained, placing a hand over his brother's chest.
"As long as your heart beats, so too does mine. Even if I am not beside you, I am with you. You've nothing to fear nadadith, not here, not anywhere," Fíli reassured the other dwarf, and Kíli breathed in shakily and closed his eyes. He felt the featherlike touch to his lips, the warmth his brother's body cascaded him in, and the gentle traces against his neckline. It was dreamlike, and if not for his brother's words, he would have thought he had in fact fallen asleep long ago.
"You're not alone, you're never alone," Fíli whispered in his ear, and Kíli nodded happily and lunged towards the other dwarf to hug him. The brunet's papers scattered across the ground, surely drawing their uncle's attention, but Kíli did not care. Even as the mines kicked to life again, and the floor rumbled while the forges worked deep within the mountain, he took little notice of the sound. It was his brother's heart heard instead, joined with his own. Not two, never two. Only one. And he knew without a doubt, that he was not alone.
AN: Thanks so much for reading!