Dori looked up when the door opened and the three heirs of Durin slowly made their way back in. While he had a million questions, the soft look on Thorin's face and the way he had his arms wrapped around the two younger boys stopped any questions dead on his tongue. Curious as he might have been, he understood an unspoken command when he saw it. So, a simple nod at them was all he offered before turning his attention back to his watch. If he gave the two younger princes a half smile as the threesome passed, then no one made comment of it.
As for the three Durin members, they slipped towards the back of the room, away from the rest of their company, though still close enough to be within earshot. The two younger members grabbed their bedrolls up on the way over and flopped down next to their uncle. Thorin shifted and laid down on his own cushions, shrugging off his thick fur coat in the process and remaining slightly propped up against the wall. Fili curled up close on his left side, with Kili mirroring him on the left, each one of them resting their temples on his torso.
Pulling his thick coat up, Thorin draped it over the two of them and relaxed, letting them settle.
"Are you calm now?"
Nodding, Fili remarked, "Thank you, Uncle."
Kili added, "Sorry I yelled at you earlier."
Chuckling low in his throat, Thorin stated simply, "It will hardly be the last time you do before your life is spent, my boy. You're forgiven." He went quiet and just focused on the gentle sound of the breathing of his two sister-sons. While they did not yet sleep, there was no longer that horrific trembling and agonizing fear seeping off them. That was enough. While he certainly did not want to deal with two slee-deprived nephews come the morn, the relaxing posture in their shoulders was an improvement to be certain.
"The time will come soon, my dear sister-sons," Thorin's voice rumbled with affection as evenly as it did with devotion. "When we will fall Azog for the crimes he has cast against our family line. When that time comes, we will face him as one, a united front of Durin's blood."
Kili remarked, looking up at his uncle and gently fingering one of the elder's long braids. "We will be stand by your side, Uncle. We will be with you, always."
Fili added, adjusting a bit in hopes of alleviating some of the pressure on his uncle's shoulder. "You have trained us well and we will not forget WHY you have trained us." He paused, seemed unfair. "All we ask Uncle is that you will not take him on alone. Let us lend you our strength and courage, even if you have no need of it."
A warm smile, a full smile, covered the warrior's lips. "I will always have need of it. I just tend to forget it at times."
The younger of the two surmised, "Well, we won't let you forget again, Uncle Thorin. We'll be there when you drive Orcrist through that orc's filthy neck!"
His older brother chimed in even though his eyes were beginning to cloud with the hints of sleep. "Aye, Uncle. We will make sure he feels its sting to his last moments! It is only proper for what he has done!"
While Thorin did give a nod in agreement to the death of his family's mortal enemy, the leader of their company shook his head, "No, Orcrist will not end his miserable life."
Blinking in surprise, both nephews asked, in unison "No, why not?"
Laughing, as he had in younger days, Thorin gently ruffled both their wild manes of hair. "Heed me well, sons of Durin. We go into battle and danger that you may not yet comprehend. The dragon is of utmost concern but my heart is focused on Azog. While Smaug, the wicked worm, has taken our home, Azog has taken those dear to us and with that, pieces of our lives. You should have another uncle to pester and love on and you do not. You should have a grandfather to spoil and pamper you and yet you do not. You should have a great grandfather to give you far too many sweets and you do not. For that, I cannot forgive him and I will not end his life with an elvish blade, no matter how much Gandalf may praise it."
The Dwarf King reached into his tunic and withdrew a small knife, maybe six inches in length, that he unsheathed and admired. The metal was polished but had been hammered out by inexperienced hands. The fuller ran half the length of the blade and while straight, dipped more in some places than others. The wooden hilt had been treated well but was a bit off center, fashioned by sanding and carving that was not well practiced. If Thorin had held it on his finger, it would have dipped slightly lower on one side than the other, not being completely balanced. All the same though, the single edged knife was razor sharp and it showed in appearance alone. For Thorin though, it was a perfect blade.
Eyes wide, Fili inquired "You still have that thing?"
Kili added "It survived this long?"
"Of course," Thorin responded. "I have not given it a First Cut." First Cut among their kind referred to the first time a blade was used, aside from the testing phase that all blades went through. It was an important decision because the spirit of the knife maker was bound in the first cut. Whatever the First Cut was would have all the passion and energy of the makers released upon it. "I told you both when you gifted it to me that I would save its First Cut for something worthy of it. The devotion and love you put into this blade has kept it strong and firm. It is with your passion that I will slit that foul creature's throat." Thorin's voice carried strong and hard. "It is by the line of Durin that he will fall."
Sheathing the knife, Thorin slipped it back into his tunic.
Both young princes were quiet for a long moment. What could be said against such a thing? They had worked together to make the blade for Thorin when they were only 13 and 9 years of age, respectively. It had taken them three times longer than an adult. It had taken them seven tries to get the blade perfect. It had gotten them restricted to their home for half a year because they insisted on leaving the Blue Mountains to find the perfect earth, silt and sand for clay tempering. Nearly gotten them killed trying to get it and the look of horror when they saw their family again "do you know the worry you plunged into our hearts?" would haunt them much longer than anything else.
To know that Thorin meant to use that simple knife to slay their family's worst adversary make their hearts fill.
Leaning back, just slightly, the elder dwarf advised, "Dawn will be upon us soon and I won't have you two with no sleep. Close your eyes and rest."
Sighing heavily, Fili did as asked, though he did not remove his head from his uncle's shoulder. Kili was quick to do the same though he curled even closer and tightened his grip on the only paternal figure he had ever known. His heart was settled but he would not reject the closeness of his kin tonight. When Fili did the same, though with a moment delay, he relaxed a little more. As Uncle's fingers began their old pattern of root to tip, again, he let his breaths grow heavy and shut his eyes. The gentle breaths of his uncle, the rise and fall of his chest was hypnotic.
Thorin watched the two of them a moment. So young, they both were. Probably far too young to be on this journey but he was secretly glad for their presence. As tonight had reminded him though, he had a responsibility to them as well as to his people. It would not do well for him to forget that again. The strength of their family was in its connectedness. Azog had severed so many from their line already that Thorin refused to let anymore follow, least of all these two loyal lads who would likely march into Mordor itself after him.
Swallowing deep at the sudden catch in his throat, Thorin stroked Fili's braids with one hand while his other busied with Kili's and his booming voice rang out in familiar rhythm
"The world was young, the mountains green. No stain yet on the moon was seen…"
While Misty Mountains had become the cradle song for his two sister-sons, Durin's Song was always a popular request. His nephews could likely recite it in their sleep and he smiled happily when he saw the effect was still the same. Kili's grip loosened and his eyes fluttered a bit, even while closed as dreams settled over his mind. Fili turned his head towards his uncle's voice and let his eyes laze open until the muscles failed to keep them open any longer. His chin dipped into his elder's chest and sleep took him.
Despite there no longer being any need, Thorin did not stop his song. He kept it soft and low but he could not help but think back with each word. Think of the little ones in his arms, of what he might have lost…
"Unwearied then were Durin's Folk. Beneath the mountains music woke. The harpers harped, the minstrels sang and at the gates, the trumpets rang."
His memory of Erebor was still strong. He remembered festivals of such dance and music and food that his sister-sons had never had. Feasts that these two dear sister-sons should have had. Songs they should have sung, dances they should have pranced to and laughed and finery they should have worn.
"The world is grey, the mountains old. The forge's fire is ashen-cold."
How long had it been since Erebor's forges had seen the ringing of Dwarven hammers? How long had it been since the roaring fires caked faces in soot and warmth?
"No harp is rung, no hammer falls. The Darkness dwells in Durin's Halls."
Be it Erebor or Khazad-dum, his people wandered. His family wandered. They wandered, as his sweet boys had wandered this night. No comfort, no anchor.
"A shadow lies upon his tomb. In Moria, in Khazad-dum."
The shadow of the Dragon would never leave his mind. Just as the shadow of Azog lifting his grandfather's head would never leave his mind. Just as the shadow of Frerin's last breath would never leave his mind. The retreating shadow of his father, the last time he lay sight of him, would never leave his mind.
"But still the sunken stars appear, in dark and windless Mirrormere."
Kili shifted, slightly, and inched a bit closer, throwing his arms around Thorin's waist, as he had done so many years ago. Fili shifted in response and mirrored him, the faint moonlight catching on his beads and shimmering like small lights. Thorin let his sight drift down to them and he stroked the hair away from young, brave faces. He let himself imagine…these two who had grown with the spirit of Durin in their hearts. He would finally reward their loyalty, their courage would win back their homeland and with that, he would shower them with the finery they deserved. Oh, how they would stand so strong and firm at his side, clothed in the colors of their line and the people would know, as he knew, that Durin's Line was not easily broken.
"There lies his crown in water-deep. Til Durin wakes again from sleep."