Kíli was not in a good mood.

With far more force than necessary, Kíli flung a stack of hay to the other side of Pepper's stall. This was far from his idea of fun—after all he had done for everyone, too. The smell of pipe-weed reached his nose, and he looked up, searching for the source. What he would do for some pipe-weed—and a break from all this work… Fíli stood at the entrance of the stables, smoking his pipe and smirking.

"You could help, you know," Kíli grumbled, returning to his work.

"Oh, I think not," said Fíli, his voice shaking with suppressed laughter. "You got yourself into this mess. Er… literally."

"I don't understand why I have to clean every stall," Kíli said, flinging another mass of dirty hay. "I'm the one who made everything better—"

"You had quite the way of doing it," Fíli interrupted. "With what you've done, regardless of the outcome, you should be in jail, and you know it. Thorin's going very easy on you."

"Yeah, well," Kíli huffed. Fíli was right. He had gone against his uncle's word and caused mountains of worry for everyone involved—and Thorin's cheekbone had developed into a deep shade of purple after Kíli's assault. Cleaning the stables from top to bottom was the mildest punishment he could have been given—though to Kíli, it seemed to be punishment on top of punishment. Thorin had lectured him for what had felt like hours about the errors of his ways, and Kíli had been forced to simply sit and listen to all of it.

"Well, get moving, lazybones!" Fíli said, gesturing at the stall and then putting his pipe back in his mouth. When Kíli cast him a glare, his chest started bouncing as he coughed quietly, his lips twisting against a grin.

"You're enjoying this a little too much," Kíli said, leaning on his pitchfork.

"That's because your face is hilarious when you're angry," Fíli quipped.

Immediately Kíli scooped a pile of manure onto his pitchfork and flung it in Fíli's direction, but Fíli had already scampered off, giggling gleefully. As much as Kíli wanted to stay angry, he could not help smiling at the sound of Fíli's laughter. It was a welcome sound after the past weeks.

Kíli looked back at the work before him with a sigh. He had already been at it for a while, and it looked like it was going to be sunset at the earliest before he was done. He and Fíli were usually in charge of keeping the stables clean, and while others had helped out while they were gone, it had gotten much dirtier than it usually was. He certainly had his work cut out for him. Better get to it.

The work was long and hard, and Fíli stopped by to snicker a few more times—although he did bring food and water at one point. The sun had set, but finally Kíli had finished. He trudged into the house, exhausted, and headed for the living room.

"Ah-ah, not so fast!" cried his mother from the kitchen table. Kíli stopped in his tracks and looked at her incredulously.

"I'm tired, Mum," he complained.

"I'm sure you are, but you are not going to sit on my furniture after working with manure all day," Dís retorted. "Go wash up, and then you can rest."

Kíli scowled and stomped off to the bathroom to wash off. It wasn't as if he had rolled in it. He was tired and he had been in a bad mood all day, and now he was being denied the luxury of relaxation. He had half a mind to go flop on the couch in the living room anyway—but his mother's wrath was not worth it. He would wash up.

Fíli was in the bedroom when Kíli came in to dress; he lay on the bed facing the far wall. At first, he seemed to be asleep, and Kíli attempted to be as quiet as possible. But then Fíli shifted—a telltale sign that he was awake. Kíli paused, waiting for his brother to speak.

"Uncle wants to have a feast," Fíli said.

Kíli considered this for a moment as he threw on his tunic. "Sounds like a good time."

"For me, Kíli," Fíli said. He rolled over and looked at his brother, his eyes shining nervously. "He wants to have a feast to celebrate."

"Well, I think it's a good idea," said Kíli. "Everyone should know that you're all right, don't you think?"

"But some of them know, Kíli," Fíli said. "They were at the jail, or they searched for us while we were gone—Bofur had to stop me—"

"I think you're worrying too much," Kíli cut in. "Thorin is the leader of our people, and if he says you're worthy to be his heir, no one is going to question him."

Fíli was silent for a few moments. Kíli could see him trying to come up with objections, and he sighed.

"Fíli, I am sure it will be fine," he said. "I've been telling you this since the beginning…"

"I know, I know," said Fíli, waving his hand dismissively and rolling back over to face the wall. "I'm just… not a natural optimist like you, I guess."

"You'll see, Fíli," said Kíli. "Everything will be fine. You'll have a good time."

"If you say so," said Fíli quietly.

The day of the feast had finally come. All the preparations had been made; all the guests had been called. The food was ready, and everyone was in attendance.

Everyone except Fíli.

Kíli looked out at the attendees and sighed. They had set up the village hall for the event, and many dwarves had been invited—not the entire village, but their kin and many good friends—at least forty people. The feast had not officially started yet, but it was starting soon, and Fíli was already supposed to be here.

"Kíli, where is your brother?" said Dís quietly, sidling up to her son.

"I don't know," Kíli said. "He knows he's supposed to be here already."

"Well, go find him," she said, giving him a gentle push towards the exit. "If he's at home moping…"

"All right, I'm going," said Kíli, rolling his eyes as he made for the door. Fíli probably was at home—he had been nervous about this event since Thorin had first mentioned it to him, and his unease had only seemed to grow in the days following. He was probably hiding in their bedroom, hoping no one would come look for him. As if Thorin would have a feast without the guest of honor, Kíli thought with a suppressed grin.

The walk was not long, and soon Kíli was home. He opened the front door and peered inside; Fíli was not immediately visible, but the bedroom door was closed. He walked over quietly and opened it. Fíli was sitting on the bed, his back up against the headboard and his knees drawn up to his chest, already dressed in his formal clothes. He jumped when Kíli poked his head in, and Kíli pressed his lips together to keep from grinning.

"The feast is about to start," said Kíli, leaning on the door. "Come on."

Fíli shook his head, frowning and staring at the cold fireplace. Kíli sighed and stepped into the room.

"Fíli, this feast is for you," he said. "You should be there."

"I can't," Fíli said, shaking his head again. "I know I should, but I just—I can't, Kíli. They know… everyone knows." He looked down at his knees. "They're not going to accept me back."

"Do you really think they would show up to a feast in your honor if they weren't glad you were back?" said Kíli, raising an eyebrow.

Fíli raised his eyebrows and let free a tiny smile, but he did not move. Kíli frowned.

"Fíli, come on," he said.

"I don't want to go," Fíli mumbled, drawing his knees up even further.

"You can't just not go," Kíli said, rolling his eyes. "We're waiting for you."

"What if I just come a bit later?" said Fíli, looking up at his brother hopefully.

"No, because if I leave without you, you're not going to move," Kíli retorted. He wasn't going to fall for that.

"So?" Fíli mumbled, pressing his chin into his knees.

"Fíli, if I don't come back with you, Mum's going to come to get both of us," Kíli warned. "She's probably already on her way."

This almost moved Fíli. He shifted a bit, but then he settled again, frowning deeply. "I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"Kíli," said Fíli, looking up at his brother again. "Remember when we were almost home and we stopped for dinner a bit outside of the village?"

Kíli blinked. "You mean when you felt sick?"

Fíli nodded. "That's how I feel right now," he said quietly, casting his gaze downward.

Suddenly, Kíli understood. It wasn't that Fíli wouldn't go—he really felt as if he couldn't. He moved forward and sat down on the bed, shoulder-to-shoulder with his brother, and nudged him gently. Fíli took a deep breath and cast him an appreciative look.

"You're handling it better this time," Kíli commented.

"Well, maybe it looks that way, but it doesn't feel that way," Fíli said. He groaned and looked up at the ceiling, his head hitting the headboard. "I hate this. I hate that I can't stop it."

"Maybe if you just come, it'll go away," said Kíli, but Fíli shook his head violently.

"No, no, I'm staying here," he said. "I don't want to face all those people—"

"They're friends and kin, Fíli, and they are all more than happy to welcome you back," said Kíli. "We're not going to face a rabble of orcs or trolls."

"Can we just sit for a bit, please?" Fíli said in a high voice. "Let's just sit quietly for a while, and then we can go."

Kíli raised an eyebrow, but he nodded. Their mother was definitely going to come after them now. He leaned his shoulder into Fíli, and Fíli leaned back; for a few minutes, neither one of them spoke. Soon, the sound of the front door opening and closing reached Kíli's ears. Right on schedule.

"Kíli? Fíli?" called Dís. Fíli looked up, his eyes widening, as their mother's footsteps drew nearer. She peered into the bedroom and eyed her sons, shooting a scathing look at Kíli, who cringed under her critical eye.

"It's time to start, boys," she said. "Get up. We're waiting for you."

"Fíli doesn't feel well," Kíli said. Fíli cast him a grateful glance, but Dís only looked at him skeptically.

"Fíli, are you dying?" she said.

"No," said Fíli sheepishly.

"Then up," she said. "We're all waiting." She strode further into the room, reaching out for her eldest; Kíli took one look at Fíli's panicked face and dove forward, blocking him from her reach.

"Mum, don't," he said. "Trust me."

Dís looked from Kíli to Fíli, her brow furrowed; she studied Fíli's face for a few moments and then looked back to her youngest.

"Kíli, can I talk to you in the kitchen?" she said.

Fíli grabbed Kíli's wrist, and Kíli looked back at his brother. His shining blue eyes said don't tell her, but Kíli simply smiled reassuringly and shrugged. Fíli held on for a moment longer, his grip tightening, but then he sighed and let go, leaning back again. Kíli hopped off the bed and followed his mother into the kitchen, closing the door behind him.

"What is wrong with him?" she said softly.

"He's… panicking," Kíli replied. "At least, that's the closest word I can come up with."

Dís's brow creased, and her deep blue eyes drifted to the closed door. "Why?"

"Well, he thinks people aren't going to accept him," said Kíli. "He did this before we came home, too—but it was worse that time. He didn't think you or Uncle would accept him either. Especially Uncle."

"That's rubbish," said Dís, raising her volume. "They can't wait to see him."

"I know, and I told him that, but he says he can't stop it. The panicking, I mean."

Dís twisted her lips and thought for a moment. "All right," she said, "you stay here. I'll be back soon."

"Where are you going?" Kíli asked.

"I'm going to get your uncle," she said. "Maybe he can convince Fíli to come."

Kíli nodded, and Dís departed quickly, leaving him alone in the kitchen. He turned around as soon as his mother was gone and peeked into the bedroom. Fíli was in the same place as before.

"Do I have to go?" he said, his voice wavering.

"You just sit there and try to relax," Kíli said evasively. "I'll be out here, all right?"

"Thank you, Kíli," said Fíli, his body visibly relaxing. Kíli said nothing and closed the door again. If Fíli knew that Thorin was coming to retrieve him, Kíli did not know what he would do, but he didn't really want to find out. He may have had more experience now with Fíli's emotional outbursts, but that didn't mean he was comfortable dealing with them. Let the experienced ones take care of that.

It was not long before Dís returned with her brother in tow. Thorin looked to Kíli, his brow knit in confusion, searching his nephew's eyes for answers. Kíli stepped forward and began to speak in a hushed tone.

"He's afraid no one will accept him," he said. "He's panicking—really badly. I don't know if he can make it stop."

Thorin nodded curtly. "Let's go talk to him, then," he said. "All of us." He strode towards the bedroom, and Kíli and Dís followed close behind. When the three of them entered the bedroom, Fíli sat up straight, his eyes wide and shining. He opened his mouth to speak, but Thorin spoke first.

"It's all right, Fíli," he said. "Calm down."

"I'm sorry, Uncle," Fíli said quickly. "I know you planned this feast for me, but I just can't—"

"Fíli, everyone is waiting for you," Thorin interrupted. "They are eager to see you. Please come."

"But I can't," Fíli protested, his voice cracking. "W-what if they see me, and they remember what I've done, and they can never look at me the same way again? I can't face them… they know what happened. They all know."

"So do we," said Thorin, sitting down on the bed. "And we're still here."

Fíli blinked rapidly as he processed Thorin's words. He opened his mouth and then shut it again, staring at his family in amazement.

"Everyone missed you, Fíli," Thorin continued. He leaned forward and reached out, taking hold of Fíli's head and pulling it towards his own. Their temples touched, and Fíli closed his eyes.

"Now, come on," said Thorin softly. "Your family is with you."

Fíli nodded and took a deep breath, and Thorin smiled and released him. He stood and reached for the cane leaning against the wall—the same cane Kíli had used when he was recovering from his lung injury—and held it ready for his eldest nephew. Fíli scooted off the bed and took it gratefully; though he was healing well, it was still painful for him to walk any distance. He looked around at his family, his brows drawn apart and his expression caught between tears and joy.

The four of them made their way slowly to the village hall; the closer they got, the louder it became, and Fíli began to quail. Thorin put a hand on his back, and Fíli looked up at him; Thorin smiled. With another deep breath, he continued on, and soon they were at the doorway. Kíli and Dís went in first, and Thorin came behind them with Fíli at his side.

When the crowd saw Fíli, they let loose a loud cheer of welcome, and Kíli looked back at his brother; his eyes were wide, and though he didn't smile, Kíli could see that he was deeply honored. He grinned and clapped along with the other dwarves. Thorin led Fíli to the head of the banquet table. He sat down, and Fíli sat at his right hand; Kíli sat at his left, and his mother sat beside him. Everyone moved about, chattering and laughing and finding their seats. Then, Thorin stood again and held up a hand, and everyone settled down and waited for him to speak.

"I have the pleasure of presenting to you today a very important and respectable dwarf," he began, his voice taking on its official speech-tone. Kíli and Fíli looked at each other, and Kíli rolled his eyes; Fíli pressed his lips together and attempted to hold in a giggle. Thorin's speeches were often long and boring, and now everyone would have to sit through it. Kíli wondered if the food would still be warm when he had finished.

"We dwarves are a great race, made by our Maker with sturdy, stout hearts and bodies," Thorin continued. "We were created to be able to endure hardships and face the dark powers of this world with courage. But there are great powers in this world, some that may be greater than us—powers we may not even have known or heard about. Even the greatest dwarf can be caught unaware at times. This is lamentable, but not unforgivable." Thorin looked at Fíli and smiled. "For even our Maker, Mahal, Aulë the Smith, lover and maker of all that is in and of the materials of the earth, had to be forgiven by Ilúvatar for straying from his path. He desired pupils of his own that would love him and learn his ways, and he became impatient for the coming of Elves and Men. So he created the Khâzad—us. When Ilúvatar discovered what he had done, Mahal repented for going against his Master's will and raised his hammer to destroy us… but instead of allowing us to be destroyed, Ilúvatar gave us life. He forgave Mahal, and we have His forgiveness to thank for our existence. Sometimes, a transgression can bring about good."

"Hear, hear!" called someone from down the table.

"And so, though we have gone through hardships lately, I would like us all to remember the story of our creation today," said Thorin, nodding graciously at the enthusiastic listener. "There is no one more honest, hardworking, loyal, and kind as the dwarf at my right hand today. He is certainly deserving of not only forgiveness from all of us, but of honor and respect from this day forward. He is the heir to the throne of Erebor, and when his time comes, I am confident that he will excel at ruling the people. I proudly present to all of you Fíli, son of Jóli, Prince of the Line of Durin."

The hall instantly filled with thunderous applause as Thorin gestured at Fíli, who sat with wide eyes, looking out at all the dwarves cheering at the mention of his name. His eyes drifted to Kíli, who motioned for him to stand up; remembering his manners, Fíli stood quickly, smiling and nodding at the people still applauding for him. Thorin put a hand on his back, and Fíli looked up at him; Thorin smiled back and turn to face the people again.

"All right, eat!" Thorin said.

Everyone's attention immediately turned to the feast in front of them, and Thorin and Fíli sat back down at the head of the table. Kíli reached for some food to put on his plate, but Fíli simply sat with his head down for a moment; then he spoke.

"Excuse me for a moment," he said softly, rising and leaving the room. Dís nudged Kíli and pointed after Fíli, and he rose and followed his brother. He found him just outside the hall, leaning against the outer wall. When he saw Kíli, he jumped and wiped hastily at his eyes.

"You didn't need to follow me," Fíli said.

"Mum told me to," Kíli replied, leaning against the wall next to his brother. He looked at him sidelong. "You all right?"

Fíli nodded and wiped his eyes again. "I'm fine," he said. "Just… a little overwhelmed, I guess."

"Turned out better than you expected, didn't it?" Kíli said with a sly grin.

Fíli laughed and nodded. "A bit better, yes."

"Thorin's speech was surprisingly short. That was a mercy."

Fíli laughed again and nodded, but he said nothing else. Kíli eyed him carefully.

"Still feeling sick?" he said.

"A little," Fíli replied with a shrug. "But it's getting better. I'll be all right."

"Hm," said Kíli, pressing his back into the wall. "Want to go back in, then?"

"I guess I should," said Fíli, pushing himself up with a grunt. "After all, this feast is for me, isn't it? I should probably be at my own party."

"Now you're getting it," said Kíli, grinning. He patted Fíli on the shoulder, and his brother smiled sheepishly and made for the entrance to the hall. Kíli walked alongside him, and together they entered the room to a hearty, slightly drunken welcome. Fíli waved courteously at the crowd and retook his seat at Thorin's right hand.

And here be the end. Thank you for sticking with me through this… you've all been so wonderful to me. Special, loving thanks to Mhyin and madammadhatter for being such spectacular friends and helpers in the writing of this fic… without you two, I don't know what this story would have been like, and I am so incredibly grateful for all of your help.

For extra feels, go look up the song "We Fall Apart" by We As Human and listen to it right now. It's the "credits song" for Illusions, if you will.

Many of you have asked what is next for me! Well, I'm going to edit the crap out of this fic—especially earlier chapters. While I'm doing that, I've got a story idea or two up my sleeve—though I hope nothing gets as long as this was! What a journey. But there are some more Durin fics in the future (with an extra helping of whump), and I would love if you followed me as an author so you can see when those come out. I don't know when I'll start on them, but keep an eye out! Once the third movie comes out, I will also be working on an Everybody Lives AU, which you probably have heard about if you follow me on tumblr (my url is mistergandalf). It should be fun!

If you would like a paper copy of Illusions, that will be a thing in the future. But not quite yet, so don't ask me about it. Paper copies of Race Against Time, however, should be available quite soon, so let me know if you want one.

Until next time, novaer, mellyn nin. Hannon le.