Once the flames were doused, stamped out by the hard sole of Thorin's leather boots, the youngest Durin was ushered from the smokey room and into his brother's, where he was sat gently down onto the wide, posted bed. His trembling fists balled into the soft fabric of the bedsheets. Fili crouched down before him, resting on hand on his younger sibling's knee and reaching another upwards to cup the side of Kili's ashen face.

"Kee?" He asked softly. "Can you look at me?" Whilst Kili's wide, unblinking eyes stared in his direction, it was clear to Fili that they were looking through and beyond him. The blonde turned his head and glanced up at his uncle, whose brows were furrowed with concern. On his face was written the same question that raced through Fili's own mind. What had happened? "Nadadith?" Fili pressed, turning back. "Can you tell us what happened?" Though, there was only one answer to be thought of. "Was it ... was it him?" At that, Kili's eyes came into focus. And that was all the answer his brother needed. "Dammit." He sat back on his heels and ran a hand over his face.

Behind him, he heard Thorin shift, pacing back and forth a few steps before slamming his fist down on a wooden chest of drawers, the items sat atop it shaking and rattling. Fili felt his brother jump at the impact. Just as he turned his head, to reproach his uncle, Thorin began striding towards the door, fists curled at his sides. Fili sprang to his feet.

"Where are you going? Thorin?" But he received no reply, the king marching from the room without another word. "Dammit," Fili cursed again. He sighed and leaned up against the bedpost, pressing his forehead against it, eyes lightly closed. He sucked in a deep breath.

"Is uncle angry?" Came his brother's voice, small and trembling. Fili lifted his head from the post and looked over at the brunette, who stared at him with frightened eyes. "About the fire?"

"Kee, no," Fili said, sitting down beside him. "Thorin isn't angry."

"But he -" The youngest Durin glanced at the drawers, at the items tipped over on its top, " -left." His dark eyes were sad, he didn't want to make Thorin angry, he didn't want to shame him by being weak. A sole tear crawled down his cheek, picked out by the flickering torchlight which burst from the hallway outside the room.

"Look at me, little brother." Fili drew his brother's eyes to him, running a thumb along his cheek. "Thorin isn't angry," he repeated, slower, more clearly, looking deep into the younger's eyes, seeing all the hurt and fear and shadows that lingered there. "I promise, he's just worried, that's all." He smiled softly, reassuringly. But inside he was sorrowful. Sorrowful that his brother was hurting so, that he couldn't chase away the ghosts that haunted him, and the pain that they brought him. He wished to brush away the shadows beneath his eyes and bring the light back to them. He pulled Kili to him, allowing his brother to bury his face in his shoulder. "You'll be alright, nadadith, you'll be alright."


A furnace burned in Thorin's gut as he marched through the torchlit halls of his Kingdom, those who strode through them moving aside at the king's dark glower, with sharp bows. But Thorin paid them no mind, he barely saw them through the red in his vision. This wasn't right! It wasn't right that his youngest nephew should still suffer, the lad had endured enough pain and fear when he was with Azog, when he been enchanted, taken over by the shadows of Dol Guldur. He was safe now, safe within the walls of Erebor, safe with his family. Yet he was now a prisoner to his own mind. It filled Thorin's heart with icy-cold fear to think of what could have happened if he and Fili had been minutes later, if the flames had grown and taller and the smoke any thicker.

It had been many long years since Thorin walked these halls as a young prince, but he knew them well, like a map carved into his brain, he did not have to think hard of which direction to go, which turn to take. His feet, following the echoes of steps once taken, tracing the carried him along the correct path as his mind was still awash with worried and angered thoughts. He marched with great purpose, his quick footsteps reverberating off the rock walls as he went, fists still curled so tightly that his knuckles had turned white and his fingernails dug into his palms.

Soon, the corridors opened up into the cavernous great hall, where the cracked and dusty throne was being cleaned and repaired. Two, slightly smaller, thrones being constructed on either side for his nephews, his heirs. They deserved to sit beside him.

He found Balin and Dwalin stood together, the taller warrior's arms crossed over his chest, as he gazed down at a piece of parchment in his brother's hands, Balin pointing a gloved finger about him, to various pillars and posts and stone carvings. They both looked towards him as they heard his boots approach, and could tell by the grave look on his face that something was wrong. Balin lowered the parchment and Dwalin's arms dropped to his sides. They shot one another a brief glance.

"Thorin," Dwalin greeted, "is everything alright?" He took a deep inhale through the nose, "why do you smell of smoke?" But Thorin did not answer, simply asked a question of his own, his voice hard.

"Where is Gandalf?"

"In Dale, last I knew," Dwalin shrugged, "helping Bard, though it is hard to keep track of that damn wizard."

"Send for him, I want him here immediately." The king demanded.

"What's happened, Thorin?" Balin's brows pulled together, he saw the concern beneath Thorin's hardened expression. "Is it the lad? Is he alright?" At this, Thorin let his eyes fall lightly shut and let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"There was a fire in his room, he'd knocked over a candle and it caught the tablecloth," Thorin said in a low voice. He took a moment, remembering the cracking of the flames, the way, as he and Fili burst into the room, they seemed to reach down to Kili with long orange fingers, the smoke wrapping around him like a shroud. He looked at his two oldest friends, the worry marred on their features. "Fili was right, he is battling his own mind. It was no accident that he knocked the candle over."

"He saw something?" Dwalin pressed. Thorin nodded.

"Aye." But before either of the brothers were able to ask what it had been, Thorin continued, answering the question they hadn't spoke. "I want Gandalf here, I want to be sure." To be sure that he is free. "Or at least provide the answers that Oin can not." His eyes darkened, "I feel the wizard has been avoiding us, I feel he knows more than he is telling." He looked towards Dwalin. "Find him, bring him here." Dwalin gave a small nod, his task set.


Fili was sat upright on his bed, back pressed against the carved wooden headboard. His head tilted down so that it almost rested on his chest, his eyes were closed lightly but he was not asleep. He was listening to his brother's soft breaths as he slept, finally, beside him. He had a hand resting on Kili's shoulder, feeling his breaths as well as listening to them. It had taken some persuasion to get Kili to go to sleep, it reminded Fili somewhat of the difficulty his mother used to have in getting his brother to go to bed when he was young. But with one stark difference. Then it was because Kili was far too full of energy to sleep, he wanted to keep playing. But now it was because he was afraid to even close his eyes. Not that keeping them opened seemed to keep the nightmares at bay. There seemed to be no safe haven for his brother. Not anymore.

But, Fili vowed, his brother would be able to find it in him. He would be Kili's shelter, as best he could. He may not have been able to see the phantoms which haunted Kili's every waking and sleeping moment, but he would do his best, try his hardest, to catch him when the monsters made him fall and build him back up to the warrior he used to be. He would tie a safety line around him and pull him from the gloom whenever he tossed within.

A knock on the door made Fili's blue eyes flash open. He continued to sit still, glancing down at his brother, who hadn't stirred at the sound, until the knock came again. He shifted gently, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and making his way towards the door. The knock came once more before Fili turned the handle. It was Balin, stood with his hands laced before him, silhouetted against the torchlight. He offered a small smile.

"Balin? What are you doing here?" Fili asked, flicking his eyes towards the bed before stepping past the doorframe, pulling the door behind him, hand never leaving the handle.

"Thorin requests your presence," the elder dwarf said, "we're having a meeting."

"Tell him he can have it without me, Kili is finally asleep. I'm going to sit with him." The blond didn't feel like saying much else, every time he left his brother something happened. And too much had happened that day, he feared what one more incident might do. As he turned, Balin reached out to wrap a hand around his arm, pulling him back. He leaned forward.

"Gandalf is here, Thorin had him brought here." Fili froze. "He has questions he thinks only Gandalf can answer, no doubt you do too." The blond's rigid body turned and Balin knew that he was right. "Come with me." Fili leaned against the door post.

"I can't leave him." He said with a shake of his head.

"You can't watch him forever, lad." Balin attempted to reason.

"I can try."

"Let him sleep, you'll be back before he wakes." Balin could see that Fili was unconvinced, determined to stay rooted at his brother's side, and he did not blame him. He sighed and took a step towards the prince. "Speak with Gandalf, Fili, put your mind at rest, then you can do the same for your brother. Take away his fears." Fili's shoulders fell. That's all he wanted to do. He knew that, deep down, his brother's greatest fear was that, somehow, the Necromancer still had a hold on him. Gandalf would tell them, he would know for sure. Eventually, Fili nodded.

"Alright, alright, I'll come." He pressed against the door, pushing it open. "Just give me a moment," he said, backing up into the room with a hand held up. Balin smiled and stepped back, waiting patiently in the hallway. Though he wasn't left waiting for more than a minute or so before the door opened again and Fili reappeared. Balin noticed how the room behind him seemed brighter now than it had before, the wall lit gold with flickering light. "Okay, let's go." Balin raised a brow, curious about why the room was suddenly so bright but said nothing as Fili closed the door behind him. He simply nodded and walked side-by-side with the prince in silence.


Once the door was shut, Kili opened his eyes and sat up, the bedsheets sliding down his chest. The third knock had woke him, though he kept his eyes shut and his body still. He had strained his ears and listened to the conversation in the hallway, hearing the familiar voice of Balin. He caught a name. Gandalf. Gandalf was here. His heart leapt. The only person who could confirm or discredit what he thought he knew, what the figure in the flames had told him just hours before. Kili continued to feign his sleep as he heard his brother move about him, the clear sound of torches being lit. Beneath his lids, he saw the light grow and when he finally allowed his eyes to open, he saw that his brother had indeed lit extra candles, arranging them strategically where they couldn't be easily tipped. The young Durin rose from the bed and made his way to the door.


"You brought me here in some haste," Gandalf said. He was sat, with his hands laced in his lap, his hat sat on the table beside him.

"We need to speak with you, about Kili." At Thorin's words, Gandalf opened his eyes. He had known this meeting would happen sooner or later, he had hoped it would be later, but there he sat, with five dwarves around him, questions in their eyes and worry on their faces. "We have questions."

"Something has happened." It was an observation rather than a question. "Tell me." All eyes fell to Fili, who seemed particularly ragged, his face pale with exhaustion and young feature aged with sorrow and worry and unease. Gandalf saw the way his shoulders hung low, as though under a heavy weight. Fili ran a hand through his hair and sat down, the room plunging into silence for some moments before he began repeating the words he had spoken to Thorin and the others earlier, this time recounting the incident with the flames. He knew that this was their last chance to get real answers, his last chance, so he left no details out, repeating what Kili had said to him, word for word, as best he could. All his brother's fears, all the things that plagued his wounded mind. As Fili spoke, Gandalf's eyes closed pensively beneath his thick brows, listening intently to every word. Lines in his aged forehead getting deeper and deeper as the tales went on. And his eyes remained closed long after Fili had finished, as he replayed it all in his head. He sighed deeply, his shoulders rising and falling beneath his grey robes.

"He is suffering, Gandalf. And he has suffered enough." It was Thorin's voice which cut through the quiet. The wizard opened his eyes to see Thorin's arms crossed over his chest, the stone mask that the king usually wore had all but evaporated, revealing the face of a distressed uncle beneath. He wanted answers, he was desperate for them. "Oin says it's all in his mind, but he's hurting himself. And we're afraid that it may be something more."

"It is and it isn't."

"What does that mean?" Dwalin growled from the corner, "this is no time for riddles."

"Please, Gandalf, if there's something you know that we don't. Please tell us." Fili begged, leaning forward in his chair. His blue eyes desperate for anything that he could provide. The wizard nodded. It was time for the truth.

"I can assure you, that it is just his mind, the rest of the White Council and myself banished the force that held Kili."

"But?" Fili asked, knowing that the word was coming.

"But, you do not know the full truth." A part of Fili wanted to leave that room, not wanting to know, afraid of what the full truth could be. But a much greater part kept him sat there. He needed to know what else there was. The five dwarves said nothing, simply waited for the explanation. "It was no mere necromancer which enchanted Kili, it was a being of much greater power and darkness who I believed gone from this earth."

"Who, Gandalf? Who was it?" Thorin pressed. But just as he finished his question, the door was pushed open, its old metal hinges groaning. Light from the hallway flooded in, silhouetting the figure stood in the doorway.

"Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky," Kili said as he entered the room, reciting the old poem. "Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die," He paused briefly and took in a shuddering breath before he continued. "One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne in the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie." His frightened brown eyes looked towards Gandalf, whose thick eyebrows had risen. "Sauron." Kili said, his voice as scared as his eyes, "it was Sauron."

"Sauron? That cannot be. He was killed." Balin rose to his feet, shaking his head in disbelief. Kili was mistaken. "He hasn't been seen for centuries."

"He has been lying dormant all this time, he saw this as his chance to return to power," Gandalf said. He turned to Kili, who looked pale and sickly in the torchlight. He looked far worse than he had been the last time Gandalf has seen him. His heart pulled. "How long have you known." The youngster shifted his weight and lifted his shoulders in a shrug.

"I don't know. I think perhaps I always knew but it got lost amongst everything else in my head. But I remembered when I saw him in the flames, and now all these pieces have fallen into place."

"What pieces, Kili?" His brother asked.

"I understand all these things I keep seeing now." He said, looking down at the floor. He sniffed. "For a time, his mind and my mind were one, and his memories became mine." He began. "And I saw all that he had done, all those terrible things. And when I do, I see it all through his eyes." His voice began to tremble, he sounded frightened. His eyes seeming to glaze over, going out of focus as though slipping into some vision. "I see the bodies of all those he killed at my feet, I see their blood on my hands because I am the one that took away their lives. And I hear them screaming and begging, and I smell them rotting and burning. And I can't sleep, I can't remember the last time I did. Because I see them in my dreams and even when I'm awake I see them in the sh ... shadows and in the faces of the people around me, I hear them in ... the birds and smell them when food cooks. And I ... I want it to go a ... away but it won't." As he went on, his words came quicker and quicker, and so did his breaths, until they came in such rapid succession that it was questionable whether his lungs were receiving any air at all. His eyes flooded with fear and panic. Fili jumped to his feet and dashed over, grabbing his brothers shoulders.

"Kili, look at me." Kili's eyes were full of tears, absolute terror as he recalled all those horrendous memories that Sauron had planted in his mind as his lungs fought desperately for breath. "Breathe, brother."

"I ... can't."

"Yes you can, breathe slowly, Kee, come on." Fili reached down and grabbed his brother's hand, pressing it against his own chest. "Like me, Kili." He took some slow, deep breaths. "Like me, come on." Resting his free hand on the side of Kili's face, he looked into his eyes. "Breathe, little brother." Kili felt his sibling's breaths beneath his palm, how steady they were and did his best to copy them. Just like when he was little, he would copy everything Fili would do, because he wanted to be like him. And now he wanted to breathe like him, he wanted to be calm and brave. He forced his panicking body to steady itself, his starving lungs burning. In, hold, out. In, hold, out. In, hold, out. It seemed to those about him, as his trembling subsided that he was regaining his calm. But the words that came from his mouth once he was able to speak them stunned them all. And struck like a dagger to his brother's heart.

"I wish I had died," he said, tears running down his face.

"Kili."

"I wish the orcs had killed me when I was their prisoner or when you came to save me," He looked at Gandalf over Fili's shoulder, "I wish you hadn't been able to save me. Or ... or I wish I'd died during the battle, I wish Azog's blade had cut too deeply. Because then it would be peaceful because this isn't peaceful. And I can't do this anymore." Fili dropped Kili's hand and balled his fists in his brother's tunic.

"Don't you dare, don't you dare say that." Fili hissed, his voice wavering, feeling his own eyes start to fill with salty tears.

"But it's true, because I'm so tired, Fili. All the time. I can't remember the last time I didn't feel afraid or hollow or weak." Hard footsteps came towards them, and suddenly Thorin appeared in Kili's eyeline.

"You are not weak." He said firmly.

"I set fire to my room, I cut my hands on the glass from the mirror and I fled from Dale like a coward when nothing was even happening."

"Kili, you are not a coward. And don't you dare wish those things." Fili's voice broke

"I've had enough," Kili sobbed, "of feeling this way, of feeling these things. Sauron has put these images in my head and they won't leave me alone. They won't ever leave me alone and I can't bear them anymore. I want it to stop." Fili's chest constricted, his little brother's face was so full of anguish and hopelessness. He pulled his brother into a hug with a small sob, wrapping his arms tightly around him, enveloping him completely in his hold, allowing his own tears to fall into Kili's dark hair as his heart broke within his chest.

"Gandalf, there must be something. You're a wizard." Thorin pleaded. The wizard looked at him with sorrowful eyes, his mouth downturned as he shook his head slowly. The king's brows pulled together.

"Oin is correct when he says that Kili mind is wounded," Gandalf flashed the old healer, who looked utterly broken where he sat, a quick glance. "and there is no magic that I possess that can fix it without causing more damage. If I was to attempt to take Sauron's memories from him who knows what else could go with them." There were happy memories buried amongst all those that were so full of terror, moments of real joy. He could not risk removing them as well. Because what, if anything, would be left?

"So he must suffer? Look at him, Gandalf." And Gandalf did, he looked at the broken young dwarf, not even a shadow of the boy he had first met. And it tore at his heart to see him this way, to see the joyful dwarfling he had grown so fond of reduced to what he saw before him. But it tore more knowing that he could not help without the very real possibility of hurting the boy more.

"I'm sorry, Thorin, truly I am." As he rose to his feet, he heard a huff from Thorin. He ignored it. "But Kili," he said moving closer to the youngster. Kili straightened up and looked at him through blurred vision. "The only solace I can give you, and it's not much, is the reassurance that you are free of him. He is gone, he has no real grip on you now." The grey wizard knelt down and took one of Kili's trembling hands in his own. He stared into those frightened and tired eyes. "We could not have saved you alone, in Dol Guldur, lad. You were fighting from within, I felt it, I saw it. It may not feel like it now, but your spirit is strong." He gave a kind smile. "And I am glad we saved you because you deserved to be saved. And it pains me, truly, that I cannot take those horrible things from your mind, but I don't doubt that you will find a way to rise above them. Believe in yourself, lad, as we do." Kili stared at him, brows knitting together. Gandalf was right, it was not much consolidation, and he did not feel strong. He wanted these false memories gone, he wanted them to stop intruding his thoughts. But, as dubious as he was, he gave the wizard a small nod. Gandalf was as convinced by this small movement as Kili was.


Fili paced, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Kili watched him from the bed. He still hadn't returned to his own room, the smell of smoke still hung in the air and stained the walls. He had eyed it nervously, the door half open, as his brother and uncle steered him past it and back into Fili's room.

"You're angry." He said. Fili shot him a sideways glance, paced once more before stopping, pinching the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh.

"I'm upset." He corrected.

"About what I said?"

"Yes, Kili, about what you said." The sharpness of Fili's voice made Kili flinch. "How could you say that?"

"I'm sorry, I -"

"Don't say that you didn't mean it, Kili, I saw in your eyes that you did." Kili looked away from him, burying his face in his hands. Fili saw his body begin to quiver with small, muffled sobs. Fili's tense shoulders fell. He sighed again. "I'm sorry for sounding harsh, Kili," he said as he made his way to sit beside his brother, "but hearing you say those words, hearing the words 'I wish I had died' come from my baby brother was ... like a dagger."

"I didn't want to hurt you," Kili mumbled through his hands, palms growing wet with salty tears, "I should have stayed here, I shouldn't have said anything." Fili reached to take Kili's hands away from his face, stroking a thumb across his knuckles.

"No. No, I'm glad you did." He said, his brother frowning, "I knew you were hurting, but I had no idea how much. And now I do. And now I can help, somehow, I can." But Kili shook his head.

"I am broken, Fili. Not even Gandalf can fix me, and he's a wizard."

"And I am your brother." Fili said firmly, "And I know you better than anyone else in this world, better than even you know yourself. If anyone can find a way to fix you, it's me. And I will. It may not be today, or tomorrow or the next day and probably not the one after that, but one day, Kili, I promise." He took Kili's face in his hands. "I promise. But you have to make a promise to me."

"Anything."

"You have to promise that you won't do anything that will take you from me again." Two sets of eyes, brown and blue, two pieces of the same whole, stared at one another. "Promise me," Fili begged.

"I promise." Kili nodded, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against his brother's, a small smile appearing on his lips. Kili had told a lie. He had lied when he had told Gandalf and the others that he could not remember the last time he hadn't felt afraid. Because he did remember. He didn't feel afraid when he was beside his brother because fear couldn't get him there, it couldn't breathe down his neck with its icy breath and make him want to sink into the ground and disappear. The monsters couldn't get him there. That's the way it had always been, for as long as he could remember. Fili was like his armor, metal chainmail, and hard boiled leather. It was not hard to recall his elder brother chasing imaginary goblins from beneath his bed at night, with a wooden sword and looking as fierce as a young dwarfling could. It always worked because the goblins never reached their long fingers under the bedcovers to pull him into their dark caverns. He had felt safe then, and he felt safe now.

Just then. the door swung open.

"Kili I have -" Thorin looked at his nephews, a sudden glimmer of concern on his face. "Is everything alright?" He asked.

"Yes, uncle, we're fine." There were some moments of silence as Thorin watched them, not totally convinced, before Fili broke it, clearing his throat and pointing at a small, blue glass vial in Thorin's hands. "What's that?"

"Oh, Oin gave it to me. It's to help Kili sleep." He passed it over to his eldest nephew to inspect. Fili held it up to the light and taking a sniff. His nose crunched it, it smelt bitter. "One spoonful before bed. No more than that."

And one spoonful was all it took to send Kili off to the sleep that both his body and mind needed so desperately.

"You'll stay?" Kili asked his brother as he started to drift off, eyes slowly closing.

"It's my bed, Kili" The blond chuckled, "I've nowhere else to go." But the smile on his lips didn't remain there once his brother was asleep. It quickly dropped once those brown orbs closed. He sniffed back a tear as he was left alone to reflect, nothing but the flickering of candlelight to accompany his bleak thoughts. He didn't hold back the rest of the tears.


-A/N-

Howdily doodily readereenos! At last, I have returned with this criminally delayed chapter. I'd say I decided to make it quite long to make up for the fact it 's so very, very late, but I'd be lying. It just turned out this way.

I felt so bad writing Kili's parts, it's so sad! And poor Fili hearing his baby brother say that. Life is pretty tough right now for the Durins. I'm a mean writer.

Well, uploads seem to be far and few between, but I promise, I haven't given up on this story. I've put too much time into it already to just let it go. Plus there's more that needs to be written, including the arrival of Dis in a few chapters time too.

Don't forget, if you liked this part and the 56 parts that have come before it, be sure to fave/follow and leave a comment! See you in part 58!