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.
This chapter is for my most consistent reviewers, broadwayb, summerald, WolfishPennings, LadyDunla and wardog85. Thank you all so much! And to tweetzone86, whose speculations as to what is going on have given me all sorts of ideas… All of you are the best!
Updates this week will be on Sunday (this chapter) and Wednesday (chapter 27), as I will be out of town for the rest of the week after that.
26. Prince of Betrayal
Hours later, Thorin wearily laid Orcrist on the stone floor as he lowered himself down onto the rough mats near his bedroll. If the cult and their dark allies had been conspicuous in their original absence, they were making up for it now. Most of their search parties had come under attack, and not just from a cave troll, as his had. They had come straggling back to the main camp in small groups carrying stretcher after stretcher over the last several hours. Thorin's team alone had lost four out of ten, plus two wounded. Three, if he were honest enough to include his own minor injuries.
If the cult had planned to make them give up the search, however, it would not happen. The obstinacy of dwarrow was showing in every clenched jaw and hand that scraped a whetstone across a newly notched blade, preparing it to return to the field tomorrow. Thorin had wished to return to the corridors himself, to keep searching through the night, but had acceded to Senata's stern orders to rest for a few hours, at least. Too bad the mind could not obey as easily. There would be no sleep for the exhausted king this night that would be free of the horrifying realities his nephew might be facing. Far better not to sleep at all, then.
"Sit!"
Dwalin's harsh command brought his king's head up to see the large dwarf pushing his eldest nephew down next to him. Fíli, of course, was having none of it, attempting to surge back to his feet the moment that the Warmaster let go, only to be thwarted by a combination of Dwalin's low growl of annoyance and Thorin's hand clamped around his wrist.
"Sit down, Fíli."
The light blue eyes that glittered resentfully at his uncle already held more than a hint of desperation that was bordering on madness, making the king's gut clench in renewed worry. Perhaps separating Fíli onto a patrol of his own had not been the wisest course after all. Tomorrow, Thorin would keep his eldest nephew with him.
"He's still out there!"
The prince tugged futilely against his hold, spittle flying and braids whipping around with the angry words. Thorin grit his teeth, worry stoking his temper as he took in the disheveled state of his normally fastidious nephew. Fíli's clothing was ripped and dirty, hair coming undone where one of the fasteners was missing, and a cut on his arm had clearly not been tended.
"And teams will not stop searching until he is found, but you cannot continue without rest!"
The king gasped out the last word, sore muscles flaring as the prince's continued struggles aggravated the injuries from being thrown into the wall. Fíli twisted again, and Thorin tightened his grip.
"I have to find Kíli!"
Head already pounding from his earlier troll assisted flight, the king closed his eyes, reminding himself that the younger dwarf could not entirely control his actions right now. Fíli had been permanently altered by the trauma of watching his brother killed in front of him, and no amount of time or reassurance would ever completely heal him.
That meant, however, that it was not the life of one nephew currently balanced upon the edge of an abyss, but two. For if they were to lose Kíli, Fíli would surely follow, in spirit if not in actual body. Duty would require the blonde to remain alive and return to Erebor to care for the family his brother left behind, and Fíli was unfailing about such things. That did not mean that the dwarf that they knew and loved would stay, as well. Thorin's greatest fear was to fail to bring one son home to Dis and bring the other as a mindless husk, little more than a cog in a machine doing his required duty…
Thorin's gut clenched, threatening to expel the meager amount of food he had managed to force down earlier. He could not let that happen!
"You will rest, Fíli, for the next…" Thorin's mind raced, knowing he would need to start high if he were to have any hope of winning a reasonable amount of rest from the other. "Eight hours, then I will personally ensure we both join the next patrol due to leave."
"Absolutely not!" The prince at least stopped trying to stand up, blue eyes blazing as bright as the pure blue flame at the core of a hot forge furnace. "Two hours!"
Thorin made a show of allowing his eyes to narrow angrily, though inside he cheered at the victory of getting the younger dwarf to consider resting at all.
"Six hours, and you eat a full meal now and when you wake. You are no good to your brother if you collapse!"
He braced himself for another explosion from the blonde, muscles tightening in anticipation. Now, however, the anger in the other was extinguished as quickly as it flared. Fíli had instead taken on such a perfect look of put upon martyrdom that he could only have learned it from growing up with such a master of manipulation as Kíli.
"Three! And I will only promise to try to eat as much as I can. Please, uncle! It is as much as I can stand!"
Truthfully, it was about as much as the king himself would be able to tolerate, too, but he could hardly admit that! Instead, he allowed his face to harden, wishing Dwalin would stop watching them with such an air of grim amusement. Fíli would worm his way through the slightest crack in Thorin's defenses, and his friend was decidedly not helping!
"Four, Fíli, and if you argue further, I will send to the healers for a sleeping draught." He did not mention that it was what he should do anyway, for them both. "I will see about getting us suitable meals."
The nod was grudging, but the bargain was struck. Now, as to food… Perhaps his stomach would not put up such a fuss at a bit of soup? This time, it was his own shoulders being held, pinning him in place. Startled, the king twisted to look up and behind him, a move quickly aborted by a stifled groan of pain. Above him, Dwalin snorted, rolling his eyes as he muttered something about stupidity and stubborn royals.
"Stay there, I heard what happened to your bunch. Kifir said he and Frodo would send meals this way before joining Bofur's group heading out."
"What happened?"
"Nothing you need worry about."
Fíli's body had snapped taut, almost quivering with renewed emotion as widened eyes carefully scrutinized every visible inch of his kin. Thorin sighed, laying a reassuring hand on the younger dwarf's arm, making the blonde instinctively scoot closer, seeking comfort as he had when still a child. Thorin willingly pulled him in to rest against his side, blonde head resting on his shoulder as his nephew's eyes slid closed, savoring his uncle's presence. The healers had warned the king of such rapid mood changes in the prince, and Thorin was not about to turn him away. He did, however, send a glare Dwalin's way over the blonde's head.
While the king could not blame his old friend for being concerned, he did wish that Dwalin had thought to exercise a bit more discretion. Fíli was hypersensitive at the moment, balanced emotionally upon the edge of a blade; hearing that another member of his family was injured might only serve to destabilize him further.
As it was, the trauma induced mood swings often left Thorin floundering, especially when the younger dwarf abruptly reverted to the long discarded patterns of childhood, as he did now. Thorin had never been partial to children, mostly because he did not know how to deal with them. It would be so much easier were they truly the miniature adults that they sometimes seemed! This was less difficult than the more self-destructive habits some among the healers had feared, however, such as becoming drunk daily or outright violence, two other common reactions among dwarrow. From over Fíli's shoulder, Thorin caught the discreet movements of Dwalin's fingers spelling out the full tale in Iglishmêk.
'His patrol said he threw himself into fighting. Almost berserker.'
Thorin winced, recalling all too vividly what it was like to have such a fighter in the midst of a patrol. They were often more of a danger to their own side then to the enemy, leaving comrades without support and taking unnecessary risks. Not to mention the problems it presented to those attempting to guard the prince from the very harm he threw himself into. The hand still resting on Fíli's back crooked into a return question of his own, knowing Dwalin would easily see it from where he stood slightly to the side of the king.
'Injuries?'
'Two dead, others minor, including Fíli. Cracked ribs on right side.'
Thorin winced, glad the lad was resting his left side against his uncle. It took an awful lot of force to break dwarrow bones.
'What?'
'Cave troll. Scared it off.'
That earned a bitter chuckle from Thorin, which made Fíli stir, peering up at his uncle.
"What?"
"Nothing, Fíli. That cave troll you did such a good job scaring off ran right through a wall and into the middle of my patrol."
The prince tried to jerk away, even though such a move must have made his ribs shriek in protest, but once more Thorin tightened his hold to keep him in place.
"I am fine, a few bruises from where I knocked into a wall, nothing more."
No need to tell him that it was actually more like six feet through the air and then a slide of four more down the wall to the floor.
A few more silent words passed between the warrior and his king.
'Sleeping draught in soup.'
Dwalin gave him a chiding look, but said nothing, moving off to intercept the approaching hobbit with their promised meals as Thorin enjoyed the momentary silence. One hand idly running up and down Fíli's back, the king found himself content to merely sit, allowing his mind to escape the cares that were piled on. The blonde prince, too, was quiet, body finally relaxing from that quivering anxiety that he had been plagued with since sitting down.
There was no need for spoken reassurances or pledges of renewed searching now, uncle and nephew in silent accord. Kíli would be found, one way or another, and if the worst happened, he would be avenged. But such doubts could not be entertained until long past the point they were now at, especially as the Arkenstone continued to beat a steady pulse of lights and warmth before them. They were not to enjoy such peace for long, however.
"Uncle…"
Thorin shook off the haze of worry and exhaustion at the tentative call, grimacing as he took in a mouthful of coffee that had gone cold sitting by his knee. Fíli's appearance had driven the drink from his mind even as the approach of his youngest nephew had reminded him. He needed to speak further with the lad about the circumstances surrounding Kili's disappearance, but when they were both tired and emotionally spent was hardly the time.
"What is it, Therin? You should be resting."
If he had hoped to forestall the other, though, it obviously was not going to work. Instead, Therin flinched slightly at the harsh tone, shifting from foot to foot and twisting his hands around in a very undwarrow-like fidget. For no reason that the king could comprehend, the sight of a dwarf prince displaying the mannerisms of a hobbit made his temper flare, hands clenching into fists as he stopped himself from berating the boy. It was not his fault it had been unsafe to raise him in the mountain like a proper dwarf.
"You have something to report, Therin?"
Dwalin's voice intruded with a sharp note of command that instantly stilled the nervous prince, bringing him to attention in the presence of his old teacher.
"Yes, sir. I- There's two dwarrow missing from my patrol."
The large Warmaster grunted, kneeling to hand Thorin and Fíli the hot mugs of soup he carried, but the blonde prince spoke before the others could.
"So?" It was a derisive scoff as he glared resentfully at the wrong younger brother, "They're probably off getting drunk. Why should they care that my brother's still missing?"
Bitterness dripped from every word, making Therin flush, his own face tightening at the insult when Fíli compounded the pain a hundred fold.
"I'm surprised that you aren't with them. That's why you left Kíli alone in the dark, isn't it? Because I told you how much he hated it?"
Thorin's breath exploded in a disbelieving gasp as he hastily put down his mug, moving to restrain his older nephew before the confrontation could escalate. Surely Fíli did not truly believe the words he had just spoken? Therin took a step closer, body quivering in suppressed emotion, but it was no longer the rage of someone wrongfully accused. No, the lad's face had gone bone white at his brother's words, guilt flashing all too plainly in dark blue eyes as words seemed to erupt from him as fast as he could wrap a tongue about the syllables.
"I only meant to scare him! I never would have taken him down that hall if I had known it was a real tr-"
"WHAT DID YOU DO?!"
The bellow shook the very stone as Fíli barreled past his uncle, one hand seeking the other's throat, face twisted in a rage Thorin had prayed never to see upon kin. Futilely, he grabbed at the blonde, but Fili was easily able to tear from his grasp after mere seconds, the king having difficulties fully gaining his feet with protesting ribs. Fortunately, those few seconds of delay allowed Dwalin to position himself, enveloping the enraged prince in a bear hug that wrapped muscular arms firmly around his torso. It would take a stronger dwarf than Fíli to break that iron grip, even though the Armsmaster was well over two hundred years old.
"Fíli! Stop this!"
Thorin barked, grabbing at Fíli's face only to have it torn away, the prince's yells overriding his own demand. By now, there was a crowd gathering in the doorway to their little room, but none dared to enter.
"What did you do?! Tell me! Were you truly so jealous that you want him dead? How could you?! He trusted- Let me go!"
Dwalin did the opposite, tightening his grasp until he lifted Fíli bodily from his feet, making the other loose the traction to continue fighting him. Thorin grimaced as sharp eyes caught the abrupt shifting in Fíli's right side, one of his lower ribs most likely giving way. The prince gasped, his face going a shade paler, but showed no other sign of what must have been agony. If Fíli did not stop thrashing, more damage could be done, including some that could put the prince's life in danger. By the look Dwalin gave him as he jerked his head aside to avoid Fíli's attempted head-butting, it was clear he had felt the damage in his charge's body as well. The blonde had only taken one sip of the soup before blowing up, not enough for the strong herbs placed in it to take effect quickly.
Instead, Dwalin simply held the prince as carefully as he could, allowing the younger dwarf to exhaust himself as Thorin watched. Several minutes passed in tense silence, Fíli obviously having decided that angry yelling was getting him nowhere. All the while, Therin stood rooted to the spot he had been in when the whole mess started, staring at the floor with unblinking eyes. Finally, Fíli began to slump, allowing Thorin and Dwalin to lower the limp body to the ground. Senata and Bofur were suddenly at the king's side, the healer running a careful hand over the prince's side.
"It's broken, but it hasn't shifted much."
Thorin nodded gratefully, resting one hand on Bofur's shoulder as he stood.
"Will the two of you stay with him?"
"You need to ask?"
Bofur offered a weak smile, dark eyes sad as he waved the king away. Thorin turned and grabbed Therin roughly by the arm, yanking the lad a few feet further away as Dwalin crowded close. Once there, the king put a hand under his nephew's chin to force the errant child to look at them. Therin was crying hard, body quaking and eyes wide in distress as his head began to shake desperately back and forth.
"I didn't know, Uncle! I swear to you that I didn't know!"
"Know what, boy? You're not makin' a lick of sense!"
Dwalin growled, earning a reproving glare from Thorin when the gruff demand only served to make the lad shake harder. As angry as Thorin was, scaring the child half to death would not get them answers!
"Therin!" Thorin settled for giving his nephew's arm a rough shake. "I need you to tell me what is going on!"
"I-"
The youngster closed his eyes, visibly collecting himself, and Thorin was reminded once more that as sheltered as Fíli and Kíli had been growing up, Therin had been more so. This was an emotional, jealous, foolish child in the body and role of an adult. It was a position that Thorin never should have placed him in, but the boy had seemed to adapt to his changing responsibilities so well that the king had taken it for granted that he would mature, just as Fíli and Kíli had on the quest. To Therin's credit, the prince seemed to decide he needed to face his uncle as an adult, a deep breath making the quaking fade as blue eyes raised to meet his own. The guilt there made Thorin's heart sink.
"You know Kíli and I haven't been getting along. I- I was jealous that he was all anybody seemed to focus on. When somebody referred to the prince, it was always Kíli, even though I am supposed to be your heir!"
The king bit back a groan, silently cursing himself. Fíli had been right, all those weeks ago, and Thorin had brushed it off.
"You were always too busy, and when you needed something important done, it was Fíli or Kíli you asked, not me! I thought I could earn your respect by being a warrior, as Mister Dwalin taught us, but when I tried to spend time with my patrol, they called me 'lad' and sent me off to find some milk instead of ale!"
Once more, Therin paused to swipe angrily at the tears leaking from his eyes. Thorin met Dwalin's gaze, to receive a discreet shake of the head. The Warmaster had heard nothing of this trouble, either. Therin resumed, bringing the older two dwarrow's attention back to him.
"Then when the reinforcements came, two new dwarrow joined, and they started chiding the others for brushing me off and inviting me to drink with them. They said Kíli was arrogant, and someone needed to remind him that he was no better than I was! I- They started asking if Fíli and Kíli treated me the same, encouraging me to tell them while we practiced, and saying that they had heard the older princes believed that I wasn't worthy of being your heir, and that you should get rid of me! Send me back to the Shire where I belonged! But if I was able to prove I was braver and a better fighter, that it wouldn't happen!"
"Oh, Therin…" Dwalin's tone was profoundly disappointed, but also not surprised. Had this been brewing for longer than Thorin thought, and he had missed it completely? "What did you do, lad?"
"I- They-" The young dwarf ducked his head, one foot scuffing the stone as he refused to look at them. "It was just supposed to scare him. A trigger stone to a deadfall trap they swore they had reset with nothing but dust and pebbles. I was supposed to take him down there and leave him in the dark with it caving in, 'cause Fíli told me once after one of Kili's nightmares that it's what had scared him since he was a child. Bein' alone, in the dark, with a cave-in. I'm sorry!"
"Sorry you did it or sorry that you got caught?"
Bofur pushed past a startled Dwalin to confront the young prince, anger burning in his countenance in a highly unusual display for the normally jovial toymaker turned councilor. He roughly grabbed Therin's arm, shaking it much as Thorin had earlier.
"Did Fíli not tell you why Kíli held those fears so deeply?"
"N-no."
Therin stuttered and the councilor made a noise of disgust low in his throat. Before he could say more, however, Thorin brought them back onto the true shaft line.
"And now these dwarrow who tricked you have vanished? Are you certain they are not elsewhere in the camp?"
The prince shook his head miserably.
"No. I looked, and one of the sentries said they went past him just after Kíli and I left and didn't return."
No wonder the cult had just happened to stumble into Kíli alone in that corridor! It had been planned the entire time. The king's blood boiled at the carnage wrought by the childish behavior of a jealous sibling. He should have known that the boy was still too young and naïve to be brought here! If Kíli should die as a result of his actions…
No matter how innocently conceived, the fact was that Therin had knowingly acted to place his brother in a position where Kili's life was in danger. There was only one punishment under dwarrow law for fratricide, and it was the same as that of endangering a royal, but to enforce it would tear apart what family the king had left. A cold, hard lump settled in his stomach as Thorin accepted the actions he must now take, knowing that his sister might never forgive him.
"Warmaster Dwalin, you will oversee the conversion of a storage nook into a cell. You, Therin, will await your fate there until such time as we know the true depth of your crimes, stripped of title and family."
"NO!"
The objection shocked Thorin as Fíli suddenly appeared at his side, a fuming Senata one step behind the prince. Thorin paused, eyes taking in his oldest nephew's condition as he waited for the prince to regain the ability to speak through the pain. He was pale, with one arm wrapped protectively about his torso and a drug haze in his eyes, but he certainly appeared to be cognizant of what was occurring. The cold glance he spared the miscreant was certainly icy enough.
"I will hear the words of the Prince of Erebor."
It was extremely formal, especially for a rough army camp, but that was the only way Thorin could keep himself steady right now. Things had not collapsed about his ears in such a spectacular fashion since he had watched Smaug fly off toward Laketown on a cold autumn night.
"King of Khazad-dûm." Fíli gave a brief bow of his head, acknowledging the tie as formally as his uncle just had. "I ask only that you keep him on the search, allow him to see the pain that his actions have wrought."
Thorin did not answer immediately, weighing the benefit in Fíli's request versus the risk. As had long been his way, he sought out the stern visage of his shield-brother where the other stood with one large hand wrapped securely around Therin's upper arm. The young dwarf had not said a word or moved since Thorin's pronouncement. Dwalin's eyes flicked down to the lad for a second before giving a minute nod.
"So be it." The boy finally reacted, flinching hard at Thorin's deep voice speaking his doom. "But he is to be allowed no weapon on search, and will be confined at all other times without visitors unless I order otherwise. Meals are to be bread, fruit and water."
Thorin stalked quickly away to stare broodingly out over the camp, unable to watch as the shaking, sniffling dwarfling was led away. In his mind, he heard similar words as Durin IV ordered his own son imprisoned and prayed to Mahal that this time, there would somehow be a happy ending.