A/N: At long last, I have returned to you! Apparently all it takes to get the motivation and inspiration to continue is to watch The Hobbit 1 & 2. It's past 6am and I'm loopy. Madammadhatter looked over this for me because she's great. Do I have other things to say? I don't know. I'm... I'm tired. Read this. I'm going to stop talking now.

For a long while, Fíli and Kíli rested on the floor, neither one willing to move. But after some time had passed, Kíli began to realize he was feeling rather uncomfortable. Unwilling to make Fíli feel unwanted or unneeded, he shifted himself carefully, trying to find a comfortable position; after shifting several times and being unable to find a good way to sit on the hard wooden floor, he decided to give up.

Just then, Fíli spoke.

"Kíli?"

Kíli shifted his head slightly. "Yes?"

"Are you uncomfortable?"

For a moment, Kíli said nothing. Of course Fíli noticed. Why wouldn't he notice?

"Yes," he said.

"So am I," said Fíli. He chuckled; the sound resonated through his chest into Kíli's ear. "Maybe we should get up."

Kíli chuckled as well and pulled himself up, groaning. He was so tired… all he wanted to do was curl up in bed and fall asleep. He pulled himself to his feet slowly and then held out his hands. Fíli took them and let out a strained noise as he pulled himself up with shaky arms. When he had finally gotten to his feet, he leaned on Kíli heavily.

Suddenly, he started laughing.

"What's so funny?" Kíli asked, confused, as Fíli continued to laugh, dropping his head into his brother's shoulder.

"Look at us," Fíli giggled. "Like a couple of old dwarves with aches and pains. What we must look like…"

Kíli chuckled. "Like Balin in the morning," he quipped, and Fíli laughed harder.

"Oi!" he said. "Don't say that in front of him. He'll challenge you to a fight!"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Kíli said. "He'd beat me in an instant." He helped Fíli over to his bed, and Fíli sat down slowly, grimacing. He looked up at Kíli with a concerned eye.

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" he said. "You won't… that's not going to happen again, is it?"

"Durin's beard, I hope not," said Kíli. He thought back to his horrible dream and winced. He never wanted to have that dream again. It was far too real.

"Kíli, what were you dreaming about?" Fíli said. "You were wheezing even before you woke up… and…" he paused and looked down at his hands. "You seemed so frightened."

"It was just a bad dream," Kíli said quickly. "I don't… remember what it was about. I just remember that it was bad."

Fíli looked back up at his little brother, one eyebrow raised skeptically. "Kíli, you know you can't lie to me," he said. "Best give up trying."

With a resigned sigh, Kíli walked over to his own bed and sat down. He leaned back on his hands and stared down at his toes, touching them together.

"I was drowning," he said softly. "In my dream. I was underwater and I—I couldn't get out." He looked back up at Fíli nervously, hoping that was enough; his brother would not meet his eye, but he was nodding lightly. Then Fíli leaned back, grimacing; Kíli hopped off his bed, but Fíli shook his head.

"I'll be fine," he whispered. "You rest, Kíli. Get some sleep." With that, he turned his back to his little brother, pulled his covers over his shoulders, and lay still.

For a few moments longer, Kíli stood, wavering; his chest felt tight, and as much as he longed to comfort his brother, he could think of nothing to say that would bring him any peace. Instead, he slipped back into his own bed and lay facing Fíli's back, watching him carefully.

"Good night, Fíli," he said.

Fíli did not speak; he only let out a shuddering sigh.

"Mister Kíli?"

Kíli opened his eyes at the sound of the small, familiar voice; a little face crowned with curls greeted him, and he smiled sleepily.

"Good morning, Lily," he said. "What is the time?"

"Breakfast time!" she said cheerfully. "Will you come and eat? I tried to ask Mister Fíli, but he won't wake up."

"Yes, he does that," Kíli said, sitting up and stretching. He let out an enormous yawn. His left side felt tight, and he felt a slight pinch, but nothing more. Lily giggled.

"Will you wake him?" she said.

Kíli looked sidelong at his slumbering brother and frowned. "Let's leave him to sleep. He isn't feeling well. I'm sure he will eat when he wakes up on his own."

"Okay!" said Lily cheerfully. She took hold of Kíli's hand and pulled, and Kíli hopped out of bed and allowed himself to be dragged along. "Come and eat! Come on!"

"All right, all right—I'm coming!" Kíli laughed, running his fingers through his surely wild hair. He shut the guest room door behind him and followed Lily down the hall. He could smell the breakfast before he could see it: eggs and sausage and some kind of baked treat, as well. His mouth watered. They turned the corner into the dining room, wherein the entire family was seated and already eating. Adric sat at one end of the table and Bella at the other, their children scattered between them; three empty seats remained.

"I got Mister Kíli!" Lily announced to her family. "Mister Fíli didn't want to wake up, though."

"I'm sorry, Kíli," said Bella with an apologetic smile. "Lily was just too excited to see you again—I hope you don't mind being woken up."

"I'm fine," said Kíli. "Fíli needs the sleep, though. It's a good thing he's not an easy riser."

"Lily, sit down, please," said Adric, pointing his fork at her seat. Lily obediently ran to her spot and climbed onto the small chair, sitting her bottom on a thick book and reaching for some food. Kíli took a seat in an empty chair between Andy and Angelica.

"What happened last night, Mister Kíli?" asked Molly from across the table. Her large eyes blinked innocently. "I heard someone shouting."

"Molly!" Eva scolded, elbowing her younger sister. "That isn't polite. I'm sorry, Kíli—she's only eleven. She hasn't learned manners yet." She shot a cold look at Molly for emphasis, who avoided her sister's eye and stuffed a piece of sausage in her mouth.

"Just a bad dream," Kíli said, casting a glance at Bella and Adric, both of whom were watching him carefully. "Nothing more. Nothing to worry about."

"Must've been really bad," said Aldo, receiving an elbow from his elder brother. "You were really loud."

"That's enough, children," said Adric. "Eat your food. Breakfast is no time for prying questions, all right?"

Kíli cast Adric a grateful look, and Adric nodded; then his eyes wandered to the archway, and Kíli followed his gaze. Fíli was slowly making his way into the room, one hand pressed hard against the wall. Immediately Kíli jumped up.

"I'm so sorry," he said, grabbing his brother's arm and pulling it behind his neck. "I should have thought that you would need help."

"I'm fine," Fíli said, patting Kíli on the chest with his free hand. "I'm used to you not thinking." He grinned cheekily, glancing sidelong at his brother, and Kíli chuckled; then Fíli looked around at the hobbits seated at the table.

"Good morning," he said.

"Good morning," came a scattered chorus of hobbit voices. Bella and Eva smiled especially warmly at their elder guest, and Fíli smiled back. Happiness rose in Kíli's chest as he helped his brother to an empty seat next to Eva, and then he took his own seat again. For a few minutes, there was quiet as everyone ate; eventually, Bella broke the silence.

"So, gentlemen, is this the last we'll see of you?" she said.

"Hopefully not," said Kíli. "We should probably be on our way today, but we come through the Shire occasionally. We can stop by and see you, if you'd like." He cast a furtive glance at Adric, but the hobbit's visage bore no disdain or discontent. He smiled softly. "I'd like to come see you again—and bring you something to repay you for your kindness."

"Oh, that isn't necessary," said Bella quickly. "We're happy to help."

"You've been more than helpful," Fíli said. "You and your family quite possibly bought us the time that saved my life. We would shame our family name if we did not repay you."

Bella smiled broadly at this, looking across the table to her husband. "Well, I suppose we couldn't refuse then, right, dear?"

"Indeed not," said Adric, nodding in agreement. "And—I have to say—I apologize for my rude behavior at our meeting. I should have treated two princes better."

"You should have treated any two people better," Bella huffed, and Adric bowed his head sheepishly.

"It's all right, Adric," said Kíli. "Two dwarves showing up on your doorstep in the rain covered in blood is enough to alarm anyone."

"Aye," agreed Fíli.

"Well, you two are welcome any time you happen to pass through," said Bella warmly. "Just don't bring an unexpected party to my doorstep, if you please. We hobbits do prefer to know our visitors before they come visiting, after all."

"We'll do our best to remember that," Kíli said with a grin, starting in on the eggs before they got cold.

After a heartfelt—and in Lily's case, tearful—farewell, Fíli and Kíli were on their way again, their packs laden with a few more supplies and a bit more food than they had arrived with. As usual, Kíli packed as much of it as possible in his own pack, even though Fíli insisted he should share in the weight. The sun was shining bright; it was another hot day, but the cool breeze kept them from feeling too uncomfortable, and the occasional cloud brought them some shade.

They started off slowly; to Kíli's relief, Fíli seemed to have finally learned his lesson. They took breaks often as the day progressed, sometimes simply sitting and relaxing, other times eating or chatting and laughing. Though Fíli was clearly still in pain, the breaks were doing him a world of good; he did not seem as pale as before, and his hand did not stray to his abdomen at every spare moment. However, as the day drew on, he became quieter and quieter, and he smiled less readily than before.

They reached the Road by evening and took shelter at an inn for the night. There were no incidents, and after a good night's rest, they made their way west towards home, stopping at another inn the next night. After that, they were out of the Shire, and their plan was to make camp at night the rest of the way.

Though Fíli still talked, Kíli could see that he was upset about something. He often got lost in thought, missing something Kíli said, or on occasion he would become irritated—especially if the pain was worse. Furthermore, he asked to take breaks more and more often, even though he insisted that he was feeling better, not worse. He offered no explanation for his disquiet, and Kíli was not sure he should ask. After the third night of this behavior, however, Kíli was too concerned to keep quiet any longer.

Fíli lit the fire that night, and Kíli pulled out their blankets and some food. He handed a piece of dried meat to Fíli and took his seat across the fire, watching his brother carefully. Fíli took a bite and kept his eyes trained on the fire, his golden hair shining brightly in the orange light.

"Fíli," he said, and his brother's eyes flicked up to his face, shining with melancholy. Kíli licked his lips. "What's the matter?"

"I'm all right, Kíli," Fíli said, looking back into the flames. "I'm just—I'm just still in pain. That's all."

Kíli nodded, unsatisfied. That couldn't be all. Fíli would have said something if it was just the pain.

"If you're thinking about the other night, Fíli, I've lived with it for a long time now," said Kíli. "You don't have to worry. It was just because of—of recent events that it's been worse. I'll be fine. I promise. It doesn't bother me that much at all, to be honest. Please don't feel guilty any longer."

"I wasn't thinking about that," said Fíli. "But…" He sighed. "I'll try, Kíli. I thought it was over, but it's just one more thing, one more problem I've caused—" He stopped himself then, sighing deeply and poking the fire with a stick. Kíli could think of nothing else to say. After thirty-seven years, there was nothing else he could say. Instead, he sat quietly, waiting for Fíli to let out what was really on his mind.

Sure enough, after several minutes, Fíli broke the silence.

"Do you think Uncle will ever try to reclaim Erebor?" he said.

Kíli blinked, surprised. "Er… I don't know," he said. "I mean, I'm sure he wants to. He talks about it with Balin and Dwalin every so often."

"Balin always tries to discourage him," Fíli said. He pressed his lips together for a moment. "I think he thinks we're better off where we are."

"Hm," said Kíli, pondering. "I think he worries. He was with our grandfather when he disappeared, you know."

"Yes, I know," said Fíli. "Him and Dwalin both. And Thrain disappeared in the night… they think he went mad."

"Aye," said Kíli, eyeing Fíli with a furrowed brow. Why were they discussing this?

"Do you think Thorin ever worries that he'll go mad, too?" Fíli said. "That maybe he's not fit to be king?"

"You would know better than I," Kíli replied, perplexed. "He doesn't talk about that with me."

"Well, I don't know, either," said Fíli. He pulled some grass out of the ground and started picking apart the blades. "I was just thinking about it. Being king—it's a big responsibility. The people have to trust you with their lives. Those closest to you have to believe in you. Be willing to follow you." He paused for a moment and sighed. "Balin and Dwalin are Thorin's most trusted advisors. If they don't believe in him—I don't know. It seems like it would be difficult."

Suddenly Kíli had the impression that Fíli was not talking about Thorin at all, but he did not want to embarrass his brother by acknowledging it. Instead of responding, he simply nodded, thinking hard. There had to be some way to cheer Fíli up.

"Oh!" he said, so suddenly and loudly that Fíli jumped and looked up at him, alarmed. "I almost forgot—I have something I think you'll be happy to see. Just a moment." He reached for his pack and pulled it close, rummaging through for what he sought. His fingers touched the whittled wood, and he pulled out Fíli's pipe triumphantly.

"I saved this for you," he said. "I thought you might want it again."

Fíli's eyes brightened, and he gestured for Kíli to pass it over. Kíli leaned around the fire and placed the treasured possession in his hand. Fíli looked it over quickly; the brightness left his eyes again and the corners of his lips pulled downward as he beheld the new markings Kíli had carved.

"I threw this in the fire," he said. "I tried to destroy it."

"You didn't know what you were doing, though," said Kíli quickly, his stomach sinking. This wasn't working as well as he had hoped. "Besides, I fixed it up again. It's right as rain."

"But I ruined it," Fíli whispered, fingering the new markings.

"It's not ruined, Fíli," said Kíli. "It's just a bit different, is all."

Fíli blinked rapidly and looked up at Kíli with wide eyes. He said nothing, however; instead, he pressed his lips together and returned his gaze to the pipe in his hand, looking a little more hopeful than before.

Kíli awoke the next morning to the familiar scent of pipe smoke. He opened his eyes slowly, looking around for Fíli; his brother was leaning against a nearby tree, puffing cheerfully on his pipe.

"Morning, lazybones," he said.

"Morning," Kíli replied, pulling himself up and stretching. "Did you make breakfast?"

"Only for me," Fíli replied, glancing slyly at his brother.

"What?" Kíli said, looking around for evidence of food eaten. "You actually made food without me?"

Fíli laughed. "No, I'm kidding," he said. "I didn't make anything. There's bread and a couple of apples left in your sack, though. I helped myself to an apple already."

"Hm," said Kíli suspiciously. He peered into his bag and pulled out an apple for himself. "How are you feeling? Ready to travel?"

"After I finish this pipe," Fíli said. "Don't rush me—I haven't smoked in weeks."

"That's fine," said Kíli goodnaturedly. He was just happy to see that Fíli was appreciating the pipe instead of mourning its altered state.

After Fíli had finished his pipe and they had both eaten a bit more food, they set off for the day. Fíli asked for fewer breaks than the previous day, and he laughed and sang more freely, once even attempting to race Kíli on his pony before he remembered that he was still injured. They made camp for the night under a huge willow by a small, wandering stream. Though it was small, Kíli still kept his distance.

The next day, it became clear that Fíli had noticed his wariness around the stream; his mood had fouled considerably, though he tried not to show it. Breaks became more and more frequent, and by the time they had reached the Lune, Kíli was tempted to refuse to stop, even if Fíli asked. He knew his brother was just stalling, but he didn't want to further foul his mood by bringing it up.

The next several days passed by without incident, though Fíli became quieter again as the days progressed. His expression became more and more anxious, and their breaks came more and more often, but finally, they were almost home. They stopped for dinner not too far from the village, and Fíli was quiet throughout their meal. Kíli noticed that he kept taking in deep breaths, and he watched him carefully; Fíli did not meet his eye once.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked finally.

"No, I don't think so," said Fíli, pressing a hand to his chest. "I don't—I don't feel right. I think I need to rest a little longer."

"We're only ten miles from home," said Kíli. "Are you sure you can't just press on?"

"I'm very sure, yes," said Fíli, keeping his hand in place. "I—something is…" he swallowed and took a deep breath. "Just give me a while longer. Maybe we could rest here tonight."

"Fíli," said Kíli, "we could be home by sunset."

"I know, but I can't—I can't breathe. I can't breathe right. Something is wrong, Kee."

Kíli felt a pang of fear in his chest, and he knelt down at his brother's side. Fíli was breathing more heavily now, and he clenched his trembling hands into fists and brought them up to either side of his head, bending until his forehead touched his knees.

"When did you start feeling like this?" Kíli asked, putting one hand on Fíli's shoulder. He glanced down at Fíli's abdomen, but Fíli seemed to be ignoring the wound at the moment.

"Um, when we sat down to eat," Fíli said into his knees. "I thought I could just wait it out—I don't know what's wrong—"

"Maybe we should hurry home, then," Kíli said. He had no idea what to do. This was too sudden. "Óin can look at your wound—"

"No!" Fíli shouted, his head snapping up. His wide eyes shone with tears. "No, I don't want to—I can't go back there, Kíli. I can't go back. I can't…" He took in a gulp of air and shook his head.

Suddenly, Kíli realized what was happening.

"Fíli, I don't think you're sick," he said slowly. "I think you're panicking."

"Ha," said Fíli, his voice cracking. "Well, I've got good reason to. I've only betrayed the trust of everyone I know. They're not going to forgive me, Kíli, I know it, they're not going to, I don't want to go back—"

"Hey, easy," said Kíli. "Of course they will—I did, didn't I?"

"That doesn't mean they will," said Fíli. "That doesn't mean they'll trust me again. I can't face them, Kee." He took in a deep breath. "I don't deserve to be forgiven. I'm not worthy of trust."

"That is not true," said Kíli adamantly. "You didn't mean to do any of those things, and if they don't forgive you, they're fools. It'll be all right. I swear."

Fíli shook his head. "I don't know if I can believe that," he said, his voice wobbling. "I just want to stay here tonight. Please, Kíli. I can't go back tonight. I can't."

Kíli tightened his grip on Fíli's shoulder and said nothing for a few moments. Fíli bowed his head again and took in more deep breaths. If this was what the thought of returning did to his brother, perhaps they should wait until the next day to finish their journey.

"Well, let's wait until tomorrow, then," he said, sitting down shoulder-to-shoulder with his big brother. "We'll just rest here, all right?"

Fíli nodded, still taking in deep breaths. Kíli leaned his shoulder into Fíli's, and Fíli leaned back; they sat like that for a long while as Fíli attempted to calm down. Eventually Fíli regained control, and he looked up, wiping at his wet cheeks and his nose with his sleeve.

"That was… really unpleasant," he said. He let out a congested chuckle. "I don't think I'd like to feel like that again."

"Well, don't worry so much," said Kíli. "I'm sure everything will be fine."

"I hope you're right," Fíli said.

"I know I'm right," Kíli replied.

"I think we should go on foot from here."

Fíli groaned. "But that means walking," he protested.

"It's not that far," said Kíli, gesturing at the village before him. "They're not our ponies, anyway—they need to go home. Let's set them loose now, and I'll help you walk if you need it."

"I don't need help," Fíli grumbled as Kíli dismounted from his pony. "I just would rather not walk if I can help it."

"Come on," said Kíli. "We're almost there. Just a few minutes' walk, now."

Kíli helped Fíli dismount, and then they said goodbye to Tom's ponies, who tossed their heads and turned around as soon as they were set loose. For a minute, Fíli and Kíli watched them go. Then they turned back towards the village, and Kíli put a hand on Fíli's shoulder. Fíli took a deep breath.

"You all right?" Kíli said.

Fíli nodded, though his face did not show it—he looked ready to break down at any moment. Kíli squeezed his shoulder and smiled, and Fíli attempted to smile back. They walked down the familiar street together.

It was early in the morning; so early, in fact, that there was no one in the street at all, and everything still held a pale blue hue. Fíli had not been able to sleep that night, and he had woken Kíli quite early and requested that they just get it over with. They had made good time since then, and they were soon at the front door of their home. Kíli looked up at the chimney, which was puffing a good amount of smoke. Someone was already awake, then. He looked back at Fíli and furrowed his brow—his brother was standing back, his eyes wide in distress. Kíli sighed.

"Fíli, it'll be all right," he said. "Come on."

"I can't, Kíli—I can't," said Fíli, his voice wavering. "I can't bear to see their faces—what they must think of me…"

"All right, then, I'll go in first," said Kíli. "I'll make sure everything is good, and then I'll come get you. Does that sound fine?"

Fíli nodded quickly and crossed his arms protectively over his chest, looking left and right. Kíli shook his head and sighed again; then he opened the front door.

"Hello?" he called softly as he stepped in. No one was in the kitchen, but the fire burned merrily; there had to be someone nearby. He closed the door behind himself and set down his pack, craning his neck to search for his mother or his uncle anywhere.

Just as his pack touched the ground, Dís came out of the living room with a mug in her hand. Her eyes met Kíli's, and she stopped. The mug fell to the ground and shattered.

"Kíli?" she breathed, frozen in place.

"Hello, Mum," said Kíli, suddenly feeling nervous and sheepish. "I'm back."

"Oh, Kíli," Dís said thickly. She ran to her son and crashed into him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. Kíli hugged her in return, dropping his chin onto her shoulder. She smelled of woodsmoke and berries and soap—just like she always did. He breathed in deep. He hadn't realized how much he had missed her.

"Kíli, oh, Kíli, we thought you were dead, I thought you were dead, I thought you were never coming back to me," Dís sobbed, holding on to her youngest. "I thought… I thought so many things…" Suddenly, she leaned back and slapped him hard on the chest. "Don't you dare do that to me ever again!"

"Sorry, Mum," said Kíli sheepishly. "Where's Uncle?"

"He's out looking for you!" said Dís. "He still hasn't given up… after what you… well, we'll talk about that later." Smoothing his bangs off his forehead, she smiled tremulously; then, she looked behind Kíli hopefully. "But where is Fíli? Is he…?"

"He's here," said Kíli, peeling himself away from his mother's grip. He looked his mother in the eyes. "What I set out to do, Mum—it worked. He's fine now. But… he doesn't think you'll want to see him. He's outside."

"Oh, my precious boy," Dís breathed. She took Kíli's hand. "Take me to him."

Kíli nodded and opened the door, leading her out. Fíli was still frozen in place in the same position Kíli had left him—his eyes wide and his arms crossed over his chest. When Dís caught sight of Fíli, she stopped in her tracks.

"Fíli," Dís called. "Fíli, darling, come here."

Fíli met his mother's eyes and made a jerking motion forward, but he stayed where he was. Kíli could see his lip trembling. Dís took a step forward and let go of Kíli's hand.

"Fíli, you remember me now, don't you?" she said.

Fíli nodded vigorously, his entire chin wobbling now as he fought back tears, but still he did not move forward. Dís walked the short distance to him instead, and he did not draw back. Slowly, she reached up with one hand and laid it against his cheek, and Fíli flinched.

"Don't be afraid, my love," said Dís. She did not move her hand; after a few moments, Fíli closed his eyes and let out a shuddering sigh, leaning into her touch.

"I missed you so much, my darling," she said softly. "I thought I'd—"

Fíli cut her short as he wrapped her in an enormous hug, letting out a sob and burying his face into her long, dark hair. Dís returned the embrace wholeheartedly, holding tightly to her eldest as he wept in her arms.

"It's all right now," she whispered. "Hush now, my boy. It's all right."

Fíli might have responded, but whatever he said, it was lost in Dís's shoulder as he cried. Kíli smiled and leaned against the doorframe. It's going to be all right. He had been right after all.

Okay, we're almost through here. A few more chapters. Like 2 or 3. 4? I don't know.

Please review! I want to hear every thought you have in that beautiful brain of yours.