Disclaimer: The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings and all characters therein are the property of the Tolkien Estate and Wingnut Films. This story is for entertainment only and the author is in no way profiting from it, nor exercising any claims to The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings.

5. Of Dwarrow and Elves

It was many long hours later when Kíli was finally able to sink onto the log next to his uncle and siblings, heartened to see Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas also sharing their fire, though the three elves had salads and lembas instead of the thick, meaty stew that he could see his brothers digging into. It had been decided upon not to enter Khazad-dûm this day, instead staying outside the walls to ensure that their army would be ready upon the morrow, especially given their newest additions.

Tasked with ensuring the integration of their unexpected guests into the armies, which meant that they were properly assigned given their skills, it had not been an easy night for the prince. To his shock, none the elves had elected to return to Rivendell with Celeborn except his personal guard, despite the distasteful glances some had thrown at dwarrow and men alike. With that quick fix no longer an option, Gimli and Kíli had settled for discretely jotting down the names of those showing such prejudices for inclusion in the list of those who would maintain the perimeter guard and supply lines outside the mountains.

Unfortunately, both of them had been so focused upon the elven part of the equation that they had overlooked the 'plus dwarrow' part, and quickly learned that it equaled a brawl! Gimli had turned scarlet at the sight, and after barking a command to Legolas to stay with Kíli, had waded in, his right hook almost instantly persuading several of the more pugnacious on both sides to subtract themselves by the simple expedient of leaving the area. That, at least, had ended the incident with nothing more severe than several black eyes and bloody noses, but Kíli had been far from reassured. There was no need to make his uncle's concerns come to fruition so quickly because he'd once more forgotten to think! Chastened, the prince had decided to speak quietly and individually with all those dwarrow affected before the day was through. Consequently, the moon had long been up when he was at last able to find his way to the small campsite set aside for Thorin.

Wordlessly, the young dwarf with him, Bofur's son Kifir, retrieved two bowls heaped with stew that had been keeping warm next to the fire, giving one to his prince before settling himself at Kili's feet. The prince grimaced, picking at the food absently as his mind replayed the events of the day. He'd also been working with the planners whenever he had a spare moment these last few hours, including Dwalin, laying out the best way to approach the entrance to the kingdom, reading the stone to see if any surprises awaited inside the first guardroom. Unlike with Erebor, however, where he could sense the changes in the mountain with just the brush of fingertips along a rock wall, telling the shape of the stone here was akin to peering through a morning fog to sight upon the deer he hunted long ago in Ered Luin; it took intense concentration and some small amount of luck. Such efforts were also quicker to sap his strength, leaving him exhausted, hot, and cranky.

"Kíli…" Fíli's softly chiding tone broke through, making the brunette realize he had been mindlessly pushing his spoon around a rapidly cooling meal. "You should eat, little brother. Tomorrow won't be easy on any of us."

Kíli was quick to catch himself before he snapped in response, tolerating the blonde's hand on his forehead with only a low growl in his throat. He hated how he had to be looked after, worried over, now, but he also knew that his family had cause.

"Fever?"

Thorin's voice rumbled in the darkness, low and gentle, emotions few indeed associated with the rough, somewhat irritable king, though they were apt to manifest publically much more often now than before the quest. Kíli and Fíli were not the only ones irrevocably changed by what had happened; Thorin's change was all for the better, at least as far as Kíli was concerned, making the king more open, caring, and patient, though his temper had not vanished, just was held under a tighter rein.

Kili's annoyed "I'm fine!" was overridden by his brother's quick nod, to which the brunette rolled his eyes in exasperation, making a show of shoveling in a large helping of stew, though he almost gagged. Of course he had a bloody fever, when didn't he when using the abilities gifted him by the Arkenstone outside the Lonely Mountain? It was apt to make him irritable, and a bit uncomfortable, but was a small price for the benefit of knowing the layout and dangers inherent in the rooms they would be occupying, allowing the warriors to focus upon mortal enemies instead of the very rock itself. Desperately seeking a source of conversation other than his health, or lack thereof, his brown gaze lit upon the twin elves seated across from him.

"So, did the two of you ever meet any of the other Durins?"

Thorin's eyebrows shot up at the question, but then the king shrugged, turning his attention back to his meal as the others, even Dwalin, waited for a response with held breath.

"We did." A smile played at Elrohir's lips as the dwarrow all leaned unconsciously forward while he made a deliberate show of slowly chewing a bite of his salad before a growl from Dwalin convinced him he had best hastily swallow and continue. "My brother and I actually lived within Khazad-dûm for a short time when we were very young."

"It was before Arwen was born." His sibling added. "There had been hints of a traitor within our ranks, patrols ambushed in what should have been safe areas, vital supplies missing, and things like that, and Father feared for our safety."

"Durin IV offered the shelter of his halls, and Father wasn't likely to refuse, since the next closest refuge was in Lothlorien with Grandfather and Grandmother. That was even closer to Mordor, which really made Father nervous, even with the power Grandmother wielded."

"Besides, he didn't know who to trust among our own."

"But he trusted Durin,"

"…Even when others called him a fool."

As the conversational ball bounced without warning between the twins, for the first time Kíli began to appreciate Thorin's irritation when he and Fíli did such things. His head had whipped around from one to the other so many times that he was beginning to feel dizzy!

"Did Elrond find the culprit?"

Lis asked softly from where she leaned against her husband.

"Yes." Elladan's face fell, eyes sad as he stared into the darkness beyond them. "It was an elf who had been captured out on patrol, tortured by the orcs. I think it was the first time that many among us realized that just because Sauron had been defeated, the Ring taken, the war was not necessarily won."

The silence stretched as all picked up upon the meaning of those words, memories of their own flooding in. For Kíli, it was the madness in the eyes of his own brother as he forced the younger through a twisted forest after having flung a dagger at their own mother. He could not help the shudder that passed through him as he set the still half full bowl to the side, food holding no interest at all for him now. A hand, warm and solid, rested on his shoulder before giving it a squeeze, and he managed a faint smile for his uncle before the older dwarf disappeared into the darkness beyond their fire.

"But what was it like to live in Khazad-dûm? Was it as grand as the stories say it was?"

The breathless innocence of that question broke the darkness, drawing a genuine chuckle from Kíli as he fondly looked down upon the young dwarf resting at his feet, silently blessing Bofur for allowing the boy to come. Kifir was by far the youngest dwarrow with the army, not even of age yet, but he had already proven himself indispensable to his prince.

In the weeks following their return to Erebor, when Kíli once again struggled to recover from both injury and illness, Kifir had taken to spending his days with the prince, willingly doing anything that the other needed him to. Once Kíli was on his feet again, he had chased the younger dwarf off, grateful for all he had done, but unwilling to monopolize the time when he should be running and playing like any other child, though Kifir had continued to spend a few hours each week with the prince.

That changed permanently the year after their return to the mountain. Kíli, determined to prove that he was not too young and inexperienced for the position he now held, as he knew some older dwarrow felt, had been working hard to aid in the redesign of their principle iron mine, ignoring the twinges his nerves had been sending all day. His luck failed on one of the staircases back to the royal apartments, sending him tumbling down the stone while several miners, Bifur, and Fíli all watched in horror, helpless to stop his fall. Dis later confided to her son what had been discussed during those dark hours while they waited for him to wake, to know if once again he would be alright.

"He can't continue pushing so hard. He's not sleeping some nights because he's in too much pain, but when I try to help, he brushes me off!"

Fíli was close to tears, though it was a toss-up as to whether it was from frustration, fear, or anger. Next to him, Austri tightly clutched his hand, the other running soothingly up and down her love's back in an attempt to provide at least some comfort.

"Kili's always been stubborn, just like my brother was, we've known that since he was born." Vili smiled slightly, "We can't force him to take the pain draughts or stop doing his duty, but we could find someone to aid him, be his legs."

"He won't accept that."

Thorin's deep rumble filled the room, making the unconscious dwarf in the bed stir slightly. All of them held their breath, but Kíli settled back into stillness with only a soft mewl of pain, eyes never opening.

"I can do it. He let me before, last year, and I like to be of help. Please, Father? Lord Thorin?"

Truthfully, the adults in the room had completely forgotten about Bofur's older son, who had been with his father when the summons came saying the younger ruling prince had suffered an accident. Just turned forty-three, the young dwarf was at an age where he was trying different crafts and occupations, looking for one that would suit him, at which time his parents would negotiate a twenty year apprenticeship with his master, as was traditional. Kifir, however, had seemed unable to settle, constantly coming back to aiding his father with his job as principle advisor to the two princes. Now, the others' eyes lit up at the potential solution, waiting to hear what Bofur had to say at the notion. The older dwarf, in turn, looked hard at his son, drawing the youngster up to stand in front of him, his father's hands on his shoulders.

"Are you certain this is what you want, Kifir? If you say yes, it will be the same as a regular apprenticeship, you will be learning laws and governing. What about your wood carving?"

Kifir squarely met his father's eyes, a maturity showing there that belied his age.

"I like to carve, but it is more of a distraction at the end of the day than a true life's work, Father. I miss being able to work with Prince Kíli, and I found that the laws and things fascinated me. I've been reading some of the history of our kingdom on my own and the Lore Keeper says I have a remarkable understanding of it for one so young. Please, let me do this?"

All Bofur could do was nod, eyes filled with tears at this unexpected turn, and the thought of his little one so grown up and responsible. A hand clapped down hard on the boy's shoulder, and he found himself looking up into the face of Erebor's Warmaster, the redoubtable Master Dwalin.

"I'd best set up a time with Nast and Nori for your lessons, then, lad."

"Lessons?"

"Aye, if you're to be the prince's aid, it also means you'll be his last defense should there be another assassination attempt. Best you know how to keep him and yourself alive."

Kíli had not been at all pleased, at first, with the idea of someone, even Kifir, with him constantly, but it soon became so natural that the prince could not imagine life any other way. Consequently, he was doubly grateful to see the eager eyes of his aid shining as he asked the breathless question of the elf twins, because Bofur would have been within his rights as parent to demand that Kifir be left behind in Erebor. The twins both laughed, but before either could begin to answer, a voice, deep and confident with an odd lilting accent, answered from behind them.

"I only hope that one day you may see it as even a quarter of what it once was, young one. Though we had to build a rock barrier around Durin's Falls and the spring. This one," A blunt finger tapped Elladan on the head as the elf's face tinged pink, ducking slightly to hide his embarrassment. "Kept falling in whenever his minder's back was turned. I knew elves had an unhealthy fondness for forests, but I did not know it extended to attempting to become part fish!"

Even as all assembled there smiled at the verbal jab, except Elladan, a chill passed through them, making even the blazing fire seem momentarily cold as the features of the dwarf who had spoken flickered and morphed in the shadows. Another step, however, and the stranger became Thorin, who stumbled as if abruptly dizzy, one hand resting on Elladan's shoulder for balance. As soon as he was aware of what he was doing, the hand was yanked back as if scorched, and the king clomped over to settle down with a scowl and a full mug.

"What?!"

There was a long pause as no one answered, Kili's eyes still wide with shock as he searched his uncle's face for any sign of the other who had been standing in his place moments before. Finally, Elrohir cleared his throat, voice barely above a whisper.

"We had not known that the memories of the other Durins were so strong within you, Lord Thorin."

Kíli could not help feeling some small relief at the elf's statement, as it implied they, at least, had seen something like this before. Beside him, Fíli let out a long held breath, relaxing slightly as well. At least until Thorin frowned at all of them, stiffening.

"I'm not certain what you mean by that."

"You just- You were- "

Therin's spluttering was abruptly cut off by a well-aimed elbow from Lis, making Kíli duck his head to avoid misplaced laughter even as he tried to quell his hysteria at what had just occurred. Only twice before had he witnessed his uncle speaking as though one of the other Durins, and both times Thorin had been in a half-sleeping, trance-like state, which the king had remembered only as a dream. Kíli had not had the courage or strength to deal with it at the time, avoiding the entire issue by politely listening to his uncle relate his 'dream'. Afterward, there had been other concerns, and somehow a past incident had never been a priority. Fortunately, his uncle seemed inclined to allow the odd behavior of his companions to pass unremarked, instead raising a pointed eyebrow at his youngest nephew when Therin could not seem to hold back a yawn.

"You should seek your bedroll, Therin. We enter our kingdom tomorrow, and our people will be looking to you and me to lead them. You must be prepared to assume your birthright as both a prince of Durin and my heir."

For a moment, it looked as though Therin was going to fight the directive, a scowl crossing his features, but Lis said something quietly in his ear that made the prince roll his eyes before turning to his uncle with a pleasant, though forced, 'Good night.' The deliberately heavy stomp of his feet, however, was an action Kíli would have expected from his seven year old son, not his ninety-one year old brother. The sigh that followed from Thorin was heavy, and exasperated, making Fíli, Dwalin, and Bofur all chuckle.

"It was once Kíli and I you so despaired of, uncle, but look at how we have turned out. He'll mature with time and the realities of what we face retaking Khazad-dûm, just as we did on the journey to Erebor."

Kíli bit his lip at some rather unflattering comments that he was sorely tempted to blurt out, but held his peace. Across from them, Thorin only shook his head, turning to the elves and Dwalin to discuss the plan for the morning and leaving Kíli to his thoughts. The prince knew that his brother had been very sheltered, not even facing the harsh lessons of life in exile as he and Fíli did, but something about Therin's attitude would not stop bothering him. The boy was due for some cave-ins; he only begged Mahal that the lessons taught by them would not come to his youngest sibling at the same high cost as his own.