I'm still wondering how far I can go with changing this story until you guys begin to hate me… hm ;)
Now that Thorin has managed to really, really piss off Thranduil, our Elvenking will probably not take that very well. The Chapters coming up now will be the next to last great instalment of the story, so while we still have some moments and scenes and Chapters to come, the end has already been planned and just needs to be written. But today is not that day!
I'm glad that you guys enjoyed the last Chapter so much and now it's time to get the ball rolling again. Thank you for all your reviews and enjoy the next Chapter as well!
"FÍLI!"
Dust trickled down the massive staircase before them and Fíli whimpered quietly. He sat with his brother and Bilbo, smoking nervously, downing one pint of ale after the other, waiting for his inevitable end to come. He knew that Thorin was furious with him. He knew it. Back when he had told Legolas to send his father gratitude in Thorin's name, it had appeared like a smart thing to do but now he wasn't so sure anymore. Thorin had brooded through the night and Fíli had waited, unable to sleep for he knew that he had it coming and he had it coming badly.
"Go on. It's not like he'll rip your head off", Kíli nudged him gently, trying to cheer his brother up with a reassuring smile.
"How do you know?" Fíli muttered, pulling his knees close to his body until he looked like a braided ball of misery. "He'll disinherit me and banish me from the Kingdom for sure."
"Yeah, you already said that the last time he was mad at you. Quit the drama now and- wait, are you chewing on poppy seeds?"
"Don't judge me now, I am most distressed."
"You're not even hurt! By Mahal, get a grip already and see him now. And spit those effing seeds out!"
With ostentation, Fíli swallowed the effing seeds instead and slowly got up from his spot, his knees shaking like leafs. He took a deep breath and trudged off towards the Hall of Thrór, where Thorin had spent the morning, pacing up and down before the hearth. Balin was with him, as was Dwalin and neither of them looked particularly delighted. Whilst Dwalin was ready to charge out and behead Thranduil before he had reached the borders of Mirkwood, Balin worried about the future prosperity of Erebor and tried to reason Thorin into rethinking his decision again. Thorin however heard none of it. When Fíli entered, he found himself in the middle of a heated discussion.
"Compensation!" Thorin spit the word out and Fíli was tempted to turn on his heels and run for it straight away again. "Who does he think he is?! I do not owe him a damn, this self absorbed pointy eared prick!"
"Thorin!" Balin yelped distressed while Dwalin seemed to have the time of his life with Thorin cursing and swearing to his heart's content. "Now calm yourself! You won't be able to properly assess the situation when you're consumed by rage."
"There is nothing to assess anymore, Balin! He brought this onto himself and I refuse to feed his unjustified greed and arrogance any further!"
"He probably only misworded his claims."
"He's not in a position to make any claims!" Thorin was about to puff himself up once more when he noticed Fíli standing by the large archway that led into the Hall. "And what on Earth is the matter with you?! Come in right now and stop lurking around in the back for Durin's sake or I'll throw a goblet at you!"
The youngster quickly made his way to the table, sank down next to Dwalin but quickly shot back up when Thorin glared at him.
"It was you, wasn't it? Sending Thranduil a message of gratitude in my name?!" he thundered and Fíli shrunk a little under those words.
"I- I thought it might help to- you know – pour oil on troubled water. I didn't mean to cause any harm", the youngster muttered.
"I know that you never mean to do harm and that's exactly the problem", Thorin growled frustrated, for he surely had enough of excuses. "You went behind my back in a fashion I cannot accept, Fíli! I thought I raised you right!"
"You did!" the younger Dwarf defended himself. "It's just- it's hard to always do what's right."
"I know! I know it's hard but it's a part of growing up. To think about what is right and what is wrong before charging in and doing something reckless. You meant no harm, you never do, I know but it is time for you to pick up some more responsibilities for your actions. And even if you screw up, and you did in this case, badly, you have to have the guts and stand up for what you did."
Fíli slowly sank down on the stony bench next to Dwalin and accepted a mug of grog that was held before his face.
"I didn't call you here to give you a dressing down though", Thorin sighed.
"You- you didn't?" Fíli blinked puzzled.
"No. I called you here because I wanted to make sure that you understand the extent of what happened yesterday", Thorin briefly massaged the root of his nose, trying to find the right words. "I know that for you and your brother, the old tales of Erebor have been nothing else but that; tales. Adventures and stories we used to tell you two before we sent you to bed. It is time that you realise that stories are real. That Thranduil is real and not some foe I made up for you and your brother to fluster about. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"
"I think so", Fíli muttered, the grog in his hands forgotten at last.
"Not like your uncle had enough imagination to make someone like Thranduil up", Dwalin chuckled and Thorin dryly chucked the cork of the grog bottle at him.
"You've seen what he is like with your own eyes. And you can be damn sure that it was not him who sent his son, the boy must have come on his own accords to see to you when you were injured. Thranduil is nothing but a vessel of arrogance and narcissism and there is no reasoning with him. I told this to you before and you had trouble believing me, I know, but now you've seen and heard him."
Pondering, the youngster sat in silence for a while, turning the mug in his hands. Since his youth, he had believed the wrath of his uncle to be unreasonable for he had never encountered Elves that were as nasty as the ones in Thorin's stories. In the Blue Mountains, they had occasionally traded with the Elves of the Grey Havens and those had been nice enough. And the encounter with Legolas, Thranduil's son, had turned out somewhat neutral and Fíli, for a while had believed that maybe his uncle was simply overreacting. The night before however, he had learned that Elves like Thranduil, or rather Thranduil himself, really existed and Fíli wasn't so sure anymore.
"What does that have to do with me though?" he asked carefully.
Thorin sighed and crouched down before his nephew, resting his hands on his knees.
"All of this, these Halls and Corridors, the Gates and the treasure will one day be yours. I hope I can stick around a little longer but sooner or later you will take my place and Erebor will be yours to keep. And even though I will be gone one day, Thranduil will endure. He will be there during my reign; he will be there during your reign and during the reign of your sons and grandsons. Unless, of course, by a wonderful turn of fate someone will finally shoot an arrow through his ugly puss."
Fíli and Dwalin chuckled at Thorin's choice of words, while Balin rolled his eyes and downed Fíli's mug of grog.
"I want you to know where your allies really are and Thranduil is not one of them. He's turned his back on us once, he'll do it again. And remember the injustice he did to your beloved brother, should you ever have to make another decision concerning the Elves of Mirkwood."
"You're corrupting me right now", Fíli pointed out, sounding most displeased. Thorin smiled a little.
"I was trying to. You will rule this Kingdom much differently from me, I am sure. And you might make the mistakes I made, you will make your own mistakes and you will probably mend many things I did wrong in my lifetime. And I am proud of you. But see this as memento to the things our people went through up to this day. While I hope you will not dwell in the past, it is important that you remember it."
It was a strange feeling that took hold of Fíli. The past months had forced him to grow up a little and take responsibility but still he had often felt underrated and Thorin had continued to treat him like an untaught child. Insecurities had gnawed at the youngster and he had undoubtedly already wandered through the Halls of Erebor and he had looked at the throne and imagined that all this would be his one day, though the thought scared him to the bone. Now, for the first time, he felt like Thorin treated him like an equal. Like he treated Balin and Dwalin. He had slipped into a very enclosed circle and Thorin trusted him. And though the expectations had increased, the burden had disappeared completely for Fíli was now sure that Thorin respected him and trusted him enough to do the right thing. And in this moment, one of his biggest wishes had come true.
"I won't disappoint you again", he promised, a small smile playing on his lips. A smile that Thorin gladly returned.
"See", Balin exclaimed content, looking at his brother. "They boy did turn out alright. Told you from the start."
"Well excuse me, that I don't like children who paint tattoos on my face with charcoal, while I'm asleep."
Before Fíli could defend his honour, and he well would for everyone knew that Dwalin deserved most of the pranks the youngsters had played on him back in the Blue Mountains, the peace was once more disturbed when Nori burst through the archway, panting heavily.
"Thorin! You won't believe what is going on outside!"
Thorin rose from the ground, staring bewildered at the choking Dwarf before him.
"Catch your breath, for goodness sake. How bad can it be?" he asked, patting Nori not so gently on the back.
"Thranduil!" Nori burst out and immediately Fíli, Balin and Dwalin rose from their seats as well. "He's out by the front Gate across the bridge and he's leading an army! Hundreds of Elves! They are everywhere before the Gates, there's no end to them!"
"WHAT?!" Thorin bellowed, shock drawn across his features.
Fíli immediately dashed off and when he passed his brother outside, he grabbed his sleeve and pulled him along, ignoring his questions and yelps and complaints. He dragged Kíli up many stairs until they reached one of the highest balconies leaning towards the front Gates of Erebor and the mouth of the Running. It was the balcony of Thráin's private chambers, a place they had avoided so far but the view from up there went wide enough.
As they stepped on the balcony, they already heard the clangour of heavy armour and when they peered over the balustrade, they gaped in horror. Below them rested an army bigger than the boys had ever seen. Their weapons and armour glistened in the sunlight and they were scattered across the Desolation of Smaug, the large fields around Erebor and the remnants of Dale, that still lay charred and burned after Smaug's attack.
"So it has come to this", the youngsters flinched when they heard their uncle's voice in their backs and Thorin stepped up to the balustrade and peered down himself. There was no fear or worry in his face, only grim determination and the old hate that had simmered within him for ages. "You see that, Fíli? This is what I was talking about."
And Fíli saw it. And he understood. And if there had been any doubt left, the sight before him had wiped it out completely. More heavy footsteps approached and Dwalin entered the balcony, bad tempered as usual.
"Dwalin?" Thorin began. "How does one get Elves off the front porch?"
"Driving blades up their rears helps, I heard", the warrior replied.
"Then we shall do that", and the ease in his voice gave more away than the actual words. Both Fíli and Kíli understood that this was a battle that Thorin had waited for. A battle he had anticipated and planned ever since the Elves had refused to help when the Dragon had claimed Erebor. A battle he could not win with only thirteen Dwarves and a brave but unfortunately weak little burglar.
That night, Dwalin disappeared, accompanied by Nori, which was most unusual for those two did not get along particularly well. A few hours later, only Nori returned, nodding a content greeting at Thorin and the King under the Mountain had been in quite high spirits for the rest of the night. The boys later learned that in this night, Dwalin had set off to call for aid in this long awaited battle. To get there quicker, he and Nori had stolen one of Thranduil's warhorses in the dead of the night, unnoticed by the Elves.
"What do we do now?" Kíli asked, sitting with his uncle and brother and the Hobbit, who wished to bury himself underneath piles of gold once more, only to avoid another terrible battle.
"We wait", Thorin replied. "If Thranduil deems this battle wise, so be it but sooner or later his Elves will lose their spirit. Winter is coming, the nights are cold. Let nature take them on first."
And so the Dwarves waited and they endured behind the thick walls of Erebor, whilst blizzards and heavy snow tormented the Elven camp outside on the fields. They drank and feasted, sang songs of merriment and every now and then, they stood up on the balconies, wrapped in warm furs and coats and watched the suffering Elves at the foot of the Mountain. Thorin seemed most content, for justice was finally done and Fíli as well seemed unfazed. Kíli though silently suffered himself. Even though he understood that Thranduil brought this upon himself, he could not find any satisfaction in the cruel decay outside their Gates. And guilt began to gnaw at him.
A few days later, a grey, big steed dashed through a large gate, forged from black iron. Night had already fallen and many torches were lit in the snow-covered courtyard that lay silently at the foot of a wide, though not too high mountain. The peaks glistened with ice and snow and the walls, balconies and alcoves dug deep into the stone were enhanced with thick, dark iron as well.
The clangour of heavy, metal-capped boots approached the rider, who dismounted his horse swiftly and the moonlight was reflected by the black, glistening tattoos that covered the cheeks and temples of Dáin Ironfoot.
"It's time", Dwalin declared, when he pulled down his hood and Dáin simply nodded.