The sound of the front door flying open and quick footsteps startled Kíli out of his reverie, and he cringed. He knew those footsteps; Dís was home.

"Thorin, where is he? Where is my son?" she shouted the moment she was inside.

"How did you—"

"I spoke to Gimli on the road. Why didn't you come for me?"

"Dís, he isn't just unconscious, he's—"

"Where is he, brother? In his room?"

"Yes, but Dís, listen—"

The bedroom door opened suddenly, and Dís ran to the bedside and sat down beside her eldest, placing a hand on his brow. She looked up at Kíli with shining eyes.

"How long as he been unconscious?" she said.

"I don't know, Mum—I found him like this," said Kíli. "We can't wake him for anything."

Dís closed her eyes and pursed her lips, taking in a deep breath. She opened her eyes again and stroked Fíli's brow; he did not stir.

She leaned down next to his ear. "Fíli, wake up," she whispered. When Fíli did not respond, she kissed his forehead and whispered to him again.

"What's wrong with him?" she said.

"We don't know. Óin didn't even know."

Dís glanced up at Kíli, her brow furrowed. "Not even Óin could figure it out?"

Kíli shook his head. "There's… something else, too, Mum," he said. "Gimli didn't see, but he's—there's something going on with him."

"Well, he's unconscious," Dís said pointedly.

"No, in—in his head. In his mind," said Kíli. Dís stared at him, her expression blank in complete bewilderment. Kíli swallowed and looked away from her piercing blue eyes.

"He keeps screaming. Like he's in a nightmare, and he can't wake up. He won't wake up. He—he just screams and screams, and I—we can't get him to stop."

"He's not screaming now."

"Well, he'll stop on his own, but nothing we do seems to help." Kíli felt his throat thicken as tears stung the corners of his eyes. "I don't know what to do. He's done it four times now."

Dís looked down at her eldest son and stroked his cheek gently.

"Oh, my child," she whispered.

As if on cue, Fíli inhaled sharply, and Kíli's heart stopped.

"Oh, no," he moaned, reaching for his brother's hands and holding them tightly. Instantly, Fíli squeezed back, and Kíli closed his eyes and held his breath, waiting for the screams.

"What's happening?" said Dís.

"Lean on his legs," Kíli said.

"What?"

"Mum, trust me," said Kíli, nodding at Fíli's legs as he fought to keep his brother's hands in his own. As she leaned forward and took her son's legs, he let out a hoarse scream that rattled the window and began to jerk violently. Kíli leaned all his weight on Fíli's upper body, keeping his head far away from his brother's. He had learned earlier that Fíli's head made a painful weapon, and he had the lump to prove it.

"Fíli, calm down!" Dís shouted over her eldest son's howling.

"It's no use," said Kíli. "You just have to hold him so he doesn't hurt himself."

Dís nodded, wide-eyed, and held Fíli's legs as still as she could. Thorin flew into the room and was instantly on the bed, his hands on either side of Fíli's face as he attempted to stop the thrashing dwarf from hitting his head on anything or anyone. Kíli could feel his brother trying to curl up beneath him, but he stayed in place, fighting tears as Fíli screamed and fought with the three dwarves holding him down.

"Shouldn't we just leave him be instead of holding him down like this?" said Dís.

"No!" Thorin and Kíli shouted together. They had tried that; not only had Fíli pushed his fingernails so hard into his bandages that he had re-opened the wounds on his palms, but he had rolled so close to the edge of the bed that he had almost fallen off. Thorin and Kíli had learned after that to keep him in one place.

The struggle lasted a few minutes, and then finally Fíli was still. The three lifted themselves off him hesitantly, hoping for some change, but still Fíli remained unconscious. Kíli stared at his brother, holding back a sob that fought to escape him; he heard a sniffle and a whimper behind him, and then saw Dís running out of the room from the corner of his eye. Thorin's worried gaze followed her, and then he jumped to his feet and chased after his little sister.

"Dís? Dís!" he called, and then he was gone; Kíli remained with his brother.

He may have been in a room with Fíli, but he felt completely and utterly alone.

A harrowing night turned into a grey, gloomy morning, and no one in the house had gotten any sleep—unless Fíli's horror-ridden state counted. Kíli was sure that it didn't.

The day seemed to fly by, even though little changed. Óin came by to check on Fíli, but he left as clueless as he had come, promising to stop by the next day with some concoction he was dreaming up. Besides the apothecary, they had no visitors; by midday, rain was falling steadily, and it was the only sound save for Fíli's screams.

The only mercy was that as the day drew on, Fíli's episodes became less frequent, and the other inhabitants of the house managed to get some sleep towards the evening. Kíli would not leave his brother alone, however, insisting on sleeping near him to keep him safe. Indeed, had he not been there, Fíli surely would have hurt himself several times through the evening and the night. By morning, the nightmares seemed to have stopped completely. Kíli would have rejoiced, but still Fíli would not wake, and his hope was failing. Maybe his brother would never wake—it was a thought that Kíli could not bear, but try as he might, he could not get it to leave his mind: Fíli wasting away, dying of thirst or hunger or whatever was keeping him deeply unconscious, and Kíli could not do a thing but just watch.

This is all my fault.

The thought assaulted him suddenly and pierced his heart, leaving him gasping with watery eyes. If only he had not gone off on his own. If only he had not been so childish. Searching for pixies? Fíli was right. He had been such a child.

But there was a pixie, he thought. Something had spoken to him. Something had pushed him into the water. Something had—

A sudden movement from Fíli pulled Kíli from his thoughts, and he sat up straight, hope and dread coursing through him simultaneously. As Fíli began to curl into a ball, dread won out, and Kíli reached for Fíli's hands.

"Uncle! Mum!" he shouted, hoping one of them was within hearing distance. A scream escaped Fíli's lips, and Kíli held on tight as he began to thrash.

"Uncle! Mum! Help!" he cried, but no one seemed to hear; Kíli was alone. Thorin and Dís should have stayed near, but it was too late for should-haves. He had to keep his brother from hurting himself. He leaned over Fíli's torso and gritted his teeth as another scream was ripped from his brother's throat, so loud that Kíli thought the Blue Mountains would shake; Kíli jerked his head back as Fíli suddenly turned, just missing being whipped by a braid. He looked down at his brother, deeply grieved, and then let out a sharp gasp.

Fíli's eyes were open.

"Fíli?" Kíli breathed, and then Fíli threw him off the bed.

Kíli stumbled and hit the wall, grunting as air flew out of his lungs and left him breathless. Fíli dove out of the bed towards his brother, fists clenched, but Kíli recovered quickly and caught them before they made contact.

"It's all right, Fíli! It's me! It's Kíli!" he cried as the blond dwarf fought to get his hands back. Fíli did not relent, however. He brought his knee up to Kíli's groin—hard. Kíli gasped and dropped to his knees as a wave of extreme nausea washed over him—he couldn't move; he couldn't breathe. Fíli took advantage of his paralysis with a punch to the side of the head, and Kíli fell on his side, still unable to move as stars danced before his eyes.

"F-Fee, it's—it's me," he gasped, holding his arms protectively over his face. "Stop, please. Please."

As Fíli pulled his foot back to kick, two arms wrapped around him and locked behind his head, pulling him away before his foot could make contact with Kíli's ribcage. Kíli rolled away, facing the wall and gasping harshly as he tried to regain the ability to move.

"Let go!" Fíli growled behind him.

"Calm down, Fíli!" said Dís. "Stop fighting!"

A grunt was all that Kíli heard from his brother, but apparently Dís had a good grip on him, because he did not rush forward again. A hand touched Kíli's shoulder.

"Are you all right?" said Thorin in a low voice.

Kíli shook his head and let out a strained groan as he curled into a ball; Thorin's grip on his shoulder tightened.

"What's wrong?" he said.

"Kneed… me," Kíli gasped. "Punched me, too." He groaned again as his insides tightened in pain, and Thorin slipped an arm underneath him to pull him upright. He eased his nephew up slowly until he was sitting on the floor; Kíli turned to see his brother, who seemed to have surrendered to Dís, though he didn't look happy about it. Their mother still held Fíli tightly with his arms behind his back, her mouth set in a grim line.

"Fíli?" Kíli said cautiously, watching his brother's face, but there was no flicker of recognition in his eyes. Kíli swallowed.

"Fíli, do you recognize us?" Thorin said.

Fíli glared at Thorin with such ferocity that Kíli gasped, and Thorin's grip on Kíli's arm tightened. Fíli pulled at Dís's grip, but she was strong, and still he could not escape.

"Let me go," said Fíli, attempting to turn but unable to move his mother. Suddenly he hissed and started, his head turning to the side as he attempted to look behind.

"Ach, that hurts."

"Then calm down and sit," said Dís firmly. "You've been unconscious for—for who knows how long. You shouldn't be fighting. Look what you've done to your brother!"

"My what?" said Fíli, his eyes turning their icy gaze onto Kíli. All the blood drained from Kíli's face and his heart thumped hard at those words. He turned his questioning gaze to Thorin; his uncle was eyeing Fíli curiously with a strange look in his eye.

"He doesn't recognize us," he said.

"Of course I don't!" Fíli spat. "I've never met you in my life. Now let me go!"

"Fee—" Kíli started, but a quick squeeze on his arm silenced him as Thorin studied his elder nephew, his face unreadable.

"If she lets you go, are you going to attack us?" he said.

A disgusted growl sounded from Fíli's throat, but he shook his head.

"Do I have your word?"

"You have my word," said Fíli through gritted teeth.

Thorin nodded. "Dís, let him go."

Dís released her grip, and Fíli ripped himself away from her with a wrathful glare. He turned and regarded Thorin and Kíli, who were still on the floor; Kíli could tell from the look in his eye that he was sizing them up—seeing which one of them was the bigger threat. His gaze settled on Thorin, and he narrowed his eyes.

"Can you stand?" Thorin murmured to Kíli.

"N-not quite yet," Kíli replied. He still felt sick, pain throbbing between his legs and coursing through his stomach and his thighs. Thorin helped him lean against the wall and stood to his feet.

"You have committed assault against another dwarf, Fíli," he said.

"Uncle!" Kíli exclaimed; at the same time, he heard his mother cry out, "Thorin!"

"Quiet," Thorin commanded. Kíli knew better than to interrupt, and he clamped his jaw shut. "This is a crime punishable by jail time, the length of which will be determined by myself and my advisors as your king. As you have proven yourself untrustworthy, you will remain here until an escort can be arranged. Any attempt to escape will be met with a greater sentence. Am I understood?"

"Uncle, you can't—" Kíli started, but Thorin silenced him with a wave of his hand.

"Am I understood?" he repeated.

Fíli nodded stiffly, his fists clenching and unclenching as he seethed. Kíli looked back and forth between Thorin and Fíli, his eyes wide. What was Thorin thinking? Fíli hadn't assaulted him. He had clearly been in the grip of whatever horrors were in his dreams—Fíli would never hurt him. Not on purpose.

But he had said that he didn't recognize them… Kíli's gaze flicked back to Fíli, and he searched his brother's eyes for any sign of recognition. Once again, he found none. Fíli's icy blue eyes turned to Kíli, and the younger dwarf looked down, his insides churning—from the knee to his groin or his brother's behavior, he could not tell. Suddenly Thorin was kneeling before him, his expression drawn.

"Come, Kíli," he said. "To the kitchen." He reached out and helped his nephew stand, and then led him to the door. As they passed through the doorway, Thorin stopped and turned back to Fíli.

"Do not attempt anything."

With that, Thorin pulled Kíli out of the room, and Dís followed after them, her expression heated with enough fury to melt silver. She slammed the door behind her and immediately began to shout.

"Jail time? Thorin, what in Durin's name is wrong with you? He didn't assault Kíli! He didn't know what he was doing!"

"I know what this looks like to you, sister, but I know what I am doing," said Thorin as he eased Kíli into a chair at the table. "I have to go. Now. Make sure he doesn't escape from that room."

"You can't throw my son in jail, Thorin!" Dís bellowed. "He is your heir! Listen to me!" She dashed forward and seized Thorin's arm, pulling him away from the front door.

"Dís, we will discuss this later. I have to go," Thorin said.

"Thorin, if our people see your heir in jail…"

"I know, Dís," Thorin snapped. "I said we will discuss this later."

"Where are you going?" she demanded.

"Your son does not recognize his closest kin. I thought this would be a good time to get some help," he said, wrenching his arm out of his sister's grip. Dís nodded, suddenly understanding, and took a step back.

"Make sure he stays put," Thorin ordered, and then he was gone.

"We have a grave situation on our hands," said Thorin, looking at each of the dwarves at the table in turn—Kíli, Dís, Óin, Glóin, Balin, and Dwalin. All had on concerned, attentive faces, save for Dís, who seemed ready to explode in her wrath. Her foot tapped on the floor impatiently, and her fingertips drummed on the table as she glared at her older brother. When Thorin had said he was going for help, she had not expected four dwarves to accompany her brother back to the house.

"Ye still haven't told us why we're here," said Dwalin, leaning in towards his cousin.

"Aye, and where's Fíli?" added Balin.

Thorin glanced at Óin before he spoke.

"Before we discuss this matter, I need all of you to swear that this conversation does not leave this house."

The dwarves exchanged glances with each other before a chorus of ayes arose from around the table.

"Good," Thorin said. He leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. "As you all know, Fíli walked out on us the other day after the incident with Kíli. Well, he didn't come back. Not on his own. Kíli and Gimli found him in a cave up north."

"Is he all right?" said Balin.

Thorin surveyed the dwarves before him before responding.

"No, he isn't," he said.

Kíli sank down low in his chair and looked at the table, his stomach twisting as it struck him harshly—Fíli was not all right. He was very, very not all right. He might never be all right again. That thought struck him painfully, and he cringed, squeezing his eyes shut. No, he told himself. He'll get better. He has to.

"Well, what's wrong with him?" Balin prompted.

"He still hasn't awakened?" said Óin.

"No, he has," said Kíli. "But… just today. And he—he doesn't recognize us."

"What do you mean?" said Dwalin, his furry eyebrows drawn together.

"He attacked Kíli," said Thorin. "Said he'd never seen us before in his life."

"Fíli would never attack Kíli," said Glóin in a hushed tone.

"Aye, but he did," said Thorin. "I've charged him with assault on a fellow dwarf—"

"A terrible idea!" Dís exclaimed amidst outcries of shock from her fellow dwarves. "What happens when someone sees him locked up? The heir of Thorin Oakenshield jailed for actions that were out of his control! How will people trust him as next in line to the throne of Erebor—granted we can reclaim it—if he is seen as a criminal?"

"He is in no position to be my heir at all if he remains the way he is," Thorin snapped.

Silence fell over the table as Thorin's words sank in. Kíli's eyes widened as he realized the full extent of the situation: Fíli, disinherited, leaving him as next in line. Kíli, the heir to the throne of Erebor. No—that wasn't his place. The throne was for Fíli, not him. He was meant to be the advisor to his brother, always at his side; he was not meant to be the one who took over after Thorin passed. He didn't want the throne—Fíli was much better suited for such a thing than him. He shook his head and looked up at his uncle with pleading eyes.

"There must be something else we can do," he said.

Thorin nodded gravely. "Aye," he said. "That is why I have called you all here. You are my closest kin; I trust you above all others. I have a plan." He met Kíli's eyes with a meaningful look.

"Do tell," said Dís bitingly.

"First of all, we wait," Thorin continued, ignoring his sister's retort. "Óin, is there anything you know of that could help?"

"With amnesia? Only time," said Óin with a shake of his head.

"We can't sit around and wait for him to snap out of it," said Dís. "He's too violent."

"Which is why I sentenced him to jail time," said Thorin wearily. "Until he is better—granted that he does get better, and for that we must hope—we must keep ourselves and him safe. That, sister, is why I have acted thus. Not to punish your son. That is not my intention."

"Dís is right, though," said Dwalin. "If Fíli is seen in jail, he will not be trusted to rule our people."

"That is why I need your help," Thorin said. "If Fíli remains violent, we will need to move him to the jail. It is empty for the time being, but we have to consider the guards. They may talk. I propose that we replace them with dwarves that are loyal—those at this table, and possibly a few others—and bring him there under the cover of night."

"Why can't he stay here?" said Kíli. "Why the jail?"

"We cannot keep him under close enough watch here," said Thorin. "If he hurts anyone—"

"He won't hurt us!" Kíli exclaimed. "He was just—just caught up in his nightmare—"

"Kíli, you heard what he said," Thorin interrupted sharply. "You saw the way he acted."

"He isn't a criminal!" said Kíli heatedly. "He is my brother! I won't see him treated like a villain!"

"Kíli, calm down," said Glóin. "Thorin is right. It may be the safest place for him."

"Aye, just until he comes back to himself," said Balin. "There's sense in it, laddie."

Kíli looked to Dís desperately, trying to catch her eye; she turned and met his gaze, her blue eyes shining. Then she shook her head, so slightly that Kíli almost missed it.

"Mum, no," he said, his voice cracking. He looked around the table, but the others would not meet his eye. A sudden rage bubbled up inside him then, and he pounded both fists on the table, making it shake.

"You can't do this!" he roared. "He is your kin! All of you! You would do this to your own family?"

"It's the best option we have, Kíli, and it isn't for sure," said Dís calmly. "I don't like it either, but after hearing your uncle, I have to say that he is right."

"It's not right!" Kíli shouted. "I won't let you do this!"

"The decision is not yours to make," said Thorin sharply, rising to his feet. "This is not a punishment. It is a precaution."

Kíli glared at his uncle fiercely, at a loss for words. Suddenly he stood; his chair clattered to the ground behind him, and he stalked off to his room, his mind in a blaze of fury.

"Kíli, don't—"

Kíli opened the bedroom door and was instantly snatched inside, Fíli's arm wrapped around him tightly. Kíli felt the sharp tip of one of Fíli's many knives against his throat, and an icy chill of panic drained him of all ability to move or think. He stood rigid, moving only as his brother dragged him out of the bedroom and six pairs of eyes looked on in horror.

"Stay back!" Fíli said, pulling Kíli with him around the table and towards the front door. "Let me go, and nobody gets hurt."

"Fíli, lad, don't do this," said Glóin, taking a step forward; Kíli felt the tip of the blade press into his throat, and he jerked his head back. The tip came close to his throat again.

"Stay where you are!" Fíli said. They were almost to the door now, and still none of the dwarves had moved—save for Óin, who was slowly reaching for his bag. Kíli watched him curiously as he was dragged to the door.

"Thank you for your hospitality, but I'll be going now," said Fíli. Then he let Kíli go and dashed out the front door.

"Óin!" Thorin shouted, and the old apothecary tossed a bottle to his king. Kíli found himself suddenly on his knees, the world swimming before him; Thorin brushed by and out the door at top speed, and Dís knelt beside him, her face drawn with worry.

"Are you all right?" she said, taking his face in her hands.

"I'm—I-I'm fine," Kíli said, pushing her away and rising to his feet.

He was going to kill me. Fíli threatened to kill me.

Kíli ran out the door.

He could see Thorin in the distance, catching up to Fíli quickly—even at his age, Thorin was faster than either of his nephews. As Kíli watched, Thorin slammed into the blond dwarf and wrapped an arm around him, slapping one hand over his nose and mouth. Fíli struggled for a few moments, and then suddenly collapsed; Thorin caught him clumsily and lowered him to the ground, his hand still over the younger dwarf's face.

Kíli dashed to his side as quickly as his legs would carry him.

"What have you done?" Kíli exclaimed, dropping beside his unconscious brother. Thorin pocketed a rag and the bottle Óin had tossed him.

"Ether," he said breathlessly. "Help me carry him inside. He'll come to in just a minute."

Kíli set aside his outrage for the time being and helped Thorin with the burden of his brother, his mind racing. They had almost made it to the bedroom when Fíli began to stir; his eyes opened slowly, a bewildered look on his face as his gaze roved. He tried to lift an arm, but it flopped uselessly at his side—he was awake, but the ether was still in his system. They laid him down on the bed, and Thorin beckoned for Óin.

"Quickly," he said.

Óin approached with a thick, red liquid on a spoon, and Thorin pulled open Fíli's jaw to allow Óin to slip it in. Fíli swallowed automatically, the bewildered gaze still lingering on his face; minutes passed silently as the draught took hold, and finally Fíli drifted off to sleep.

"We move him tonight," Thorin said; he tried to sound gruff, but his voice broke.