It had taken Fili some time to calm his brother, to take away the terror in his eyes, to wipe away the tears that rolled down his cheeks. But even then, Kili trembled in his arms, feeling small and fragile. Kili may have been slightly taller than Fili, but he always felt smaller, and now he felt smaller than ever. Fili's arms wrapped around him so easily, it was like holding a child. It was like being back home in Ered Luin during a thunder storm when Kili was young. Except this wasn't something that would go away once the weather changed. Fili wondered how long his brother's memories would haunt his dreams and conscious thoughts. He was worried that, while Kili was back safe in his arms, that he didn't have all of him, that the orcs had taken something Kili wouldn't get back. The sparkle in his eyes. His cheerfulness and silly sense of humour. His contagious smile. His innocence. Because at that moment, Fili knew his brother wasn't whole.
Finally Kili fell asleep again, face nestled into the crook of his brother's shoulder and one fist still balled into Fili's tunic. But Fili couldn't sleep. His mind was weary and his lids were heavy, but he couldn't sleep. His thoughts were plagued. Each time he closed his eyes he saw the lash wounds on Kili's back, the bruises from the steel toed boots and worst of all the bruises around his brother's throat. It was like the images were burnt into the underside of his eyelids, not letting him forget what he'd failed to keep his brother safe from. And his heart hurt. He'd so willingly go back to that day on the cliff and exchange places with Kili, no matter how much agony he'd have to endure. He'd take it all if it meant he would wake to Kili's impish smile when the sun rose. He ran a hand through his brother's dark hair, feeling it matted and dirty, and rested his chin atop his head. He sighed, finally feeling himself drifting off to sleep. He'd help his brother get better again, he'd retrieve his smile and his spirit, no matter how long it would take.
The sun rose bright and warm that morning, glaring through what was left of the canopy and dancing across the dead leaves that scattered the ground, making them appear almost golden. Fili was awoken by the gentle heat of the sun's rays on his face. It was a peaceful morning, and the first he could remember in two weeks where he didn't wake with a sense of dread or grief pushing down on his chest. He lay where he was for a long time, breathing in the fresh morning air and staring up at the trees above him, watching the leaves sway and tremble in the soft breeze, he could make out thin, wispy clouds beyond them. Kili was still laying beside him, his brother's head on his shoulder and one fist still balled up in his vest. He looked peaceful, his chest rising and falling gently, he'd hardly moved after falling asleep again. Fili used his free hand to brush a couple of stray strands of dark hair from his brother's face. As he did so, he revealed the methodical cut that ran along Kili's cheek bone. Though it wasn't bleeding, it looked red and harsh against his pale skin. Fili sighed sadly and turned his head away to look back up towards the canopy. A bird had come to settle on one of the branches, it was sat preening the feathers on its wings. Fili tried to focus on it, rather than his Kili's wounds. No matter how big or small they were, they still angered him. A burning fury in his gut that those orcs, those beasts, would dare hurt his little brother. He shook his head, he focused his gaze back towards the bird, but it flew away, swooping down towards the ground and through the trees.
Kili began to stir, incoherently mumbling something under his breath. At first, Fili feared he was having another nightmare but then he woke up, and rubbed his eyes in a childlike way which made the older sibling smile.
"Good morning, little brother," he beamed down at him. The words he had said every morning for 77 years, rolling so naturally from his lips. He remembered the first time he said them, when his brother was a one day old pink bundle of gurgles laying in a crib at the foot of their parent's bed. His big brown eyes glistened as he wrapped a tiny hand around Fili's finger. It was when everyone still feared he wouldn't live through the winter. They had wanted to keep some distance between the two boys, not wanting Fili to get to attached to his sick baby brother, just in case. But Fili had been a stubborn child and insisted he helped look after him, that's what big brothers were supposed to do. His papa had told him that long before Kili had even got there. So he said the same four words every morning. For the two weeks Kili's had been gone they had felt like they had been clogging up his throat. Those and so many other words. It felt good to be able to say them again. Kili looked at him, his brown eyes brimming with relief. He looked so much like he had when he was little.
"You're still here." He said, almost as though he couldn't believe he was saying it.
"Of course I am. I promised I'd be here when you woke up didn't I?"
"Yes," Kili sat up slowly, pushing himself up with shaking arms, Fili had one hand wrapped around Kili's left elbow for support. The younger sibling yawned. "You always keep your promises." He didn't see the smile disappear from his brother's lips at that, nor the way his face paled a shade with guilt. Fili rolled his shoulders and shifted uncomfortably, dragging in a deep breath, trying to disguise the shaking as a yawn. You always keep your promises. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his mouth a thin line and feeling as though someone was trying to choke him. Not always, little brother, he thought, his chest feeling tight. He breathed in another deep breath, filling his lungs with the cool air of the morning, taking in the scent of the trees, before releasing it, forcing the exhale to remain steady. Fili shock his head and sat up.
Everyone else was already awake, it seemed they had left the two brothers to sleep for longer. Kili was looking about him, brown eyes studying each figure in turn. His brows were pulled together slightly, it was as though he was still trying to convince himself that everything, that everyone, was real. What a difference a day makes, he thought. The morning before he was in that dark and bitter smelling cell, the sounds of orcs cackling bouncing off the stone walls. He had wanted everything to be ended, for the creatures to just finish him off, to put him out of the misery he was feeling, like you would a wounded animal. What a weak desire. He sighed. A soft breeze blew through the trees and, oh, how sweet they smelt. Usually he thought autumn was the least pleasant smelling of all the seasons, decaying leaves had an odd and slightly acrid scent to them. But now, it was perfect. Refreshing. He couldn't have been in that dungeon for much more than a couple of days, but he'd forgotten what fresh air smelt like, what it felt like. The air in that place had been stagnant and ice cold. He bit down on his lip slightly, he'd have to tell the company about being taken to Dol Guldur soon, tell Fili at least. And about the necromancer too. But at that moment He could hardly bear thinking the words in his head, let alone letting them pass his lips. He sighed again and banished the thoughts of that place to the back of his mind and watched the company. Oh, how he had missed them. The corners of his mouth pulled upwards slightly.
"I really am free, this isn't a dream at all." He said, absently rubbing his wrists, feeling the dull ache of where his bonds used to be.
"Of course." Fili squeezed his shoulder. It felt good to be with his older brother again, more than good. Being separated from him had been the worst part of the whole experience, he probably would have dealt with it better if they'd had been together. No, Kili scolded himself, that would have been worse. He remembered the words he had spoken to Fili on the river bank when his brother expressed how sorry he was that he hadn't gotten to him sooner. If the orcs caught the two of us they'd haver hurt us both, used it against us. He sighed again and pulled his knees up to his chest.
Thorin had been observing his two nephews from across the camp for a while. He'd been awake for some time after a rather restless night. His mind had been full with so many thoughts, each one prying his eyes open, that he spent most of the night awake and staring at the stars through the ever balding canopy. From what he had been able see, it had been a clear night, the only clouds that hung in the night sky had been thin and wispy. He had been dosing lightly when he heard the commotion from a across camp. It took all his will power not to jump to his feet and run to his nephews, to help sooth his youngest from whatever terrible memory was attacking him. But a small voice kept him in place, turned on his side and watching them, the light of the dim camp fire reflecting in his eyes. Let Fili deal with it, it said. It was the same voice that he heard on the riverbank, the one that kept him rooted to the spot when Kili's vision was warped and clouded. It is for the best. Thorin didn't always listen to the little voice in the back of his head, but this time he did. Kili would not want a fuss, he felt enough shame – however misplaced it was – as it was. Plus, Thorin knew that Fili would be best suited to calming the youngest Durin down. However much his heart hurt, seeing the fear in Kili's eyes, he simply watched. Thankful when he slowly, finally fell back asleep again. Oh, my boy, he thought, tears burning in his eyes, my poor boy.
But now it was morning, the sun was getting higher, it's warm rays gleaming down through the trees, and the wood was alive with birdsong and the chatter of the company. And the little voice was silent. And so, Thorin strode across camp to join his nephews. He sat on Kili's right side, as Fili was still occupying his left. The two brothers were sat so close that their shoulders touched. Fili smiled at him as he sat down.
"Good morning, nephews." He said, "how are you feeling this morning, Kili?" Kili gave him a quick sideways glance before looking away again. It took a moment for him to answer.
"Good, I'm good." His voice was still hoarse and quiet. "I'm … glad to be back." The corners of his mouth pulled up slightly. It was only a small smile but it made Thorin's heart leap.
"As are we, we've missed you. We all have." Those members of the company who were close enough to overhear all nodded and smiled in agreement.
"It's been quite boring actually." Came Bofur's voice. His was, like most of the time, the biggest grin. He was sat on the next log, beside his brother and Bilbo. "We didn't think we'd miss your antics as much as we have. Nobody has stolen my hat. Not once." A slight chuckle escaped Kili's lips at that and Bofur's grin got wider, if that was possible.
For a while there seemed to be a sense of normality among the camp, like the memories of the previous two weeks were pushed to the very recesses of the company's minds as they revelled in the fact they were all together again – save for Gandalf, of course, who was off doing Mahal knows what – they smiled and laughed and spoke with higher spirits than they had in a long time. It was almost like everything was back to normal again. That was until Fili noticed his brother growing progressively more quiet, he hadn't said an awful lot anyway, just seemed to enjoy listening to the chattering of the company, it must have been a pleasant change to the horrid sounds of Black Speech, Fili supposed. But Kili began fidgeting, toying with a loose thread on the edge of his borrowed tunic and scratching and the mud that still caked some of his skin and clothes. His good foot bounced irritably on the floor. What little cheer he seemed to have had was visibly morphing into uneasiness, he seemed much like he had the night before. On edge and far away. Fili frowned and placed a hand on his shoulder. Kili flinched slightly at the touch.
"Kili," He said quietly, leaning into his brother. "Are you alright?" Kili stared at him, with that half-vacant stare. "Kee?"
"I…my head hurts." He mumbled, eyes struggling to keep focus on Fili. A particularly loud laugh made him flinch slightly again. "Too loud." The look on his face made Fili's heart feel like it was about to shatter. He looked scared and lost. This morning there was calm in his eyes, a hint of cheer. But now he looked pained, and what colour had returned to his face had gone and he appeared just as, if not more, pale as he had been the day before. Over the past hour or so, whilst enjoying the peacefulness and the smiles, that for once were not forced, he had failed to notice his brother's eyes growing dark. Can we go somewhere? They said now, as they finally focused on Fili.
"Alright." Fili quickly looked about them, thankful when nobody else seemed to have noticed how tense his younger brother had become, even though Thorin had thrown suspicious glances their way. "We'll go to the river," the blonde suggested, "see if we can get the rest of this mud off you." Kili nodded as Fili helped him to his feet.
"Everything alright?" Thorin asked, brows pulling together.
"Yes," Fili said, wondering if his uncle could detect the lie. "We're just going to the river." Thorin looked doubtful, but he chose to nod, trusting his nephew, rather to pry and bring attention to how uncomfortable Kili seemed.
The river was calm, gentle waves lapping up on the bank, a soft gushing sound replacing the chattering they had left behind. The sun light danced on the water's surface. The air was cooler than it had been in the trees, but still held that crisp smell of autumn leaves. Most of the barrels had drifted away, only a couple left on the bank or caught between rocks. Kili's tense muscles relaxed the moment he was in the open, breathing out a relieved sigh. He walked ahead of his brother, ignoring the ache of pain every time he put weight on his left foot. He wasn't lying when he said his head hurt. It was like someone was inside his skull, hitting it with a hammer, the impact vibrating all along the bone. He walked across the river bank, the edges of his vision blurring, to a rock right beside the water's edge where he slumped down, burying his head in his hands, fingers tangling themselves into his hair, tugging lightly. His good foot began to bounce on the ground again.
You're mine now.
He groaned. It was just a memory. It wasn't real.
You're mine now.
Kili squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a long, deep breath. It wasn't real.
You're mine now.
He jumped with a start when a hand curled itself around his shoulder. His head snapped up and his eyes flashed open as he batted the hand away with a small growl.
"Hey, it's just me." Fili said, hands held up defensively, his brows were pulled together, concern marring his features. "Is everything okay?" No, Kili thought. Something was wrong. He didn't feel right. He looked up at his brother, silhouetted against the sun.
"Yes," he lied, "my head hurts, that's all." Fili's raised one eyebrow skeptically. He hadn't noticed in the wood, with the balding trees casting shade, just how unwell Kili looked that morning. Sunken eyes dark against his pale skin, tinted with a sickly shade of yellow. There was a thin layer of sweat upon his brow, making stray strands of brown hair stick to it.
"Are you sure?" His brother gave a simple nod in response. Fili didn't believe him and made a note to keep an even closer eye on him that day. "Very well, if you say so." He said doubtfully. Kili wasn't looking at him now, his head was angled downwards and eyes closed lightly. His breathes slow and deep. Fili bit down on his lip and sighed. "Let's get this grime off you then."
Kili didn't protest when Fili undressed him, just sat quietly. Fili had to stifle a chuckle, he hadn't done this since his brother was small, and even then he'd struggle and shout. But now Kili hardly moved and his gaze didn't lift from the ground. He was as thin as Fili remembered, ribs painfully visible beneath bruised and burnt flesh. You could almost see where they were broken. Fili quietly sighed, he hated this. It wasn't right. He placed the tunic on the rock beside his brother and reached for the torn piece of fabric they had used the day before, it was still on the river side, dried out and still stained with blood and dirt. He dipped it in the water, some of the stains lifting away, before pressing it against Kili's chest and wiping away the dried blood and mud that remained from the previous day, careful of his brother's countless wounds. The cool water seemed to relax Kili, whose stiff muscles slumped slightly. He didn't say anything, and neither did Fili. The only noise was that of the river, flowing gently by them. Fili moved the cloth over his brother's torso, feeling the bones of his ribcage and collar under the material. It made Fili feel sick, his chest tight. His brother was thiner than any dwarf should ever be. He'd always been leaner than most, but this. It wasn't right. Fili glanced up at Kili, who still looked sickly, his skin getting paler the more grime that was cleaned away.
After all the blood and dirt was washed away from Kili's front, Fili moved onto his back. Chest burning with dread. He didn't want to see those lash wounds again. When he did, his breath caught, bile rising in his throat. He curled his shaking hands into such tight balls that his nails dug into his palms. The wounds were burning red, ragged and overlapping, their edges bruising a purple-blue colour. He couldn't imagine how painful they were, how much agony he had been in, could still be in. How he wished he could use the cloth to wash them away, lift them from his brother's flesh. Take away the pain. Even when they healed, which they would eventually, they'd leave behind cruel scars. Reminders of everything that happened, everything Kili had endured. Reminders of Fili's awful failure. Fili closed his eyes, trying to stop the tears that clouded his vision, but even so, one sole tear rolled down his cheek. He wiped it away with the back of his hand and dragged in a deep breath to compose himself. After wetting the cloth in the river water again, he carried on, gentler this time. Careful of the painful wounds. And it wasn't just them which brought sorrow to his heart. The way the bones of his brother's spine and shoulder blades jutted out beneath the flesh. It made him feel sick. Made tears blur his vision, the idea of his baby brother being starved and in pain. He sighed and pressed the cloth against Kili's back.
Kili didn't pull away in pain from Fili as he washed away the stains on his back, though the older brother did see him dig his nails into the fabric of his trousers, biting down on his lip and squeezing his eyes tightly closed. This was obviously hurting, and Fili didn't like hurting him.
"Almost finished, brother." Fili assured, carefully dabbing the cloth over Kili's skin. Kili gave a jerky nod, hissing slightly. "How is your head? Does it still hurt?"
"A little," he answered through gritted teeth, eyes still closed.
"Is that all that's bothering you, Kili?" Fili asked. He knew his brother well – better than anyone else - he knew when something was wrong. And when Kili didn't answer he knew he was right. Fili sighed, brushing away some dried dirt from Kili's shoulder. "You can tell me. Whatever it is." No, Kili thought, not yet. But, oh, how he wanted to. He wanted to tell his brother everything, Dol Guldur, the Necromancer, he didn't want to keep it bottled up anymore. Wanted to tell him how he had been hearing the Necromancer's ghostly voice all morning, how every time he closed his eyes he saw it's warped, shadowy form against his lids. He almost opened his mouth to tell him, the words crawling up his throat, but they got clogged and swallowed back down. He was afraid to speak about it, and, for whatever reason, felt like he couldn't. Like when you swear to keep a secret, and no matter how much it clawed at you, you never reveal it.
"There's nothing." Was all he could say. Fili asked nothing more, and the two brothers remained quiet after that.
After a little while, all the mud and blood and ash had been cleaned away, Fili's fingers had worked their way through Kili's hair, untangling the dirty strands until they were smooth and the cool water had done it's best to sooth Kili's wounds, which looked far less inflamed than before. Fili help Kili shrug his tunic back on and brushed some dust off the sleeve.
"There," he smiled, "you look more like yourself now." At this, Kili scoffed and rolled his eyes.
"Don't be stupid," he said irritably, "I'm nothing like myself."
"Kili," Fili sighed, placing a hand on his brother's knee.
"Don't."
"Kee …"
"Don't. Just … don't." Kili shook his head and sighed sadly. He stood up, doing up the front of his borrowed tunic and walked towards the edge of the river, letting the water hit the side of his boots with soft splashes. Fili ran a hand over his face and let out a deep breath. He wished Kili would just talk to him. They used to be able to talk about anything, but now he felt like his brother was keeping something from him. Perhaps after everything that had happened Kili … didn't trust him. The thought stung. He turned around to see Thorin coming from the tree line, he shot his brother a quick glance before walking to meet his uncle, his hands clenching and unclenching. There must have been something in Fili's eyes as Thorin's brows knitted together as soon as he approached.
"Is Kili alright? You boys left a little abruptly." He asked. Fili shrugged and sighed.
"He says it's a headache but," he glanced over his shoulder seeing his brother still stood at the water's edge, arms folded over his chest, "don't think that's all." Thorin raised an eyebrow.
"What do you mean?"
"He just, doesn't seem himself. I feel like there's something he's not telling me." He sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Maybe it's just me."
"Fili," Thorin said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "he's not going to be himself, not immediately. We've only just got him back. Give him time, nephew." He offered him a small smile. Fili nodded, hoping his uncle was right. There was silence between them for a time as they watched the youngest Durin while he paced beside the river, staring blankly into the water, his fingers twitching at his sides. After a little while, Thorin cleared his throat. "We're going to move off in a little while. Laketown isn't too far, a day maybe if we walk at a steady pace."
"Alright." Fili nodded, still watching his brother carefully. "And then what?"
"We'll find some weapons and head to the mountain."
"Erebor. Right." Fili said with an eye-roll. "And Kili? What about him?" Fili's brows where pulled together, "I'm more concerned about him than I am about that mountain." His voice was stern.
You're mine now.
Kili stopped pacing abruptly when the voice came again. Fists clenching at his sides, jaw becoming tight.
"Go away." He said to the voice. He was glad his brother and uncle where talking, or they'd think him crazy. He dragged in a deep breath, briefly squeezing his eyes closed as he tried to compose himself. It was just a memory. It couldn't hurt him. He gazed into the water, at the sunlight dancing on its surface, bright and golden. It was relaxing, mesmerising, and soon Kili felt himself falling into a daze, eyes focused solely on the rippling light, the sound of the river getting more distant. Then the reflection of the light began to morph, swirling unnaturally against the current, as though it was caught in a whirlpool. It twisted and pulled, like the very sun was changing it's shape. Kili's brows pulled together, but he could't look away. It was as though there were hands on either side of his face, not allowing his head to turn to face something else. Then Kili's mind was filled with the sound of ghostly whispering, terrifyingly familiar, echoing off invisible stone walls. Kili wanted to shut his eyes, wanted to press his hands against his ears. But he couldn't and could only watch, rooted to the spot, as the spots of sunlight came together to make the form of a figure, ablaze in the golden reflection. It remained on the water's surface, watching him, not being moved by the river's current for what felt like forever. The whispering swirling around in his head until he was able to shut his eyes so tight it almost hurt. He shook his head. "Go away," he said again, "go away." Then, just like that, the voice stopped and when he opened his eyes again, the water was back to normal, it's surface undisturbed. Kili rested his hands on his knees and breathed out the breath he hadn't noticed he'd been holding. His entire body trembling.
The company decided to follow the river, the afternoon sun warming their backs as they walked. They stuck to a steady pace, as Thorin had said. Fili and Kili walked at the end of the line. Not much had been said between them since leaving the riverbank, but the older brother kept a careful eye on the younger. Kili seemed to be putting more weight on his sprained ankle now. But that was about the only progress. As the day moved on, the sun getting higher and higher, his face grew steadily more sickly and pale, a thin layer of sweat dampening his brow. But each time Fili asked if he was alright, he simply got a curt "I'm fine" as a response. One time Kili stumbled and as his older brother reached to steady him, he batted his had away roughly, irritably exclaiming that he didn't need his help, features pulled into a glower. Fili rose his hands defensively and Kili strode off with a growl. He wished people would stop asking him if he was alright, he was sick of it! He wasn't a child. And the looks every one kept giving him, like they felt sorry for him. He didn't want or need their pity. He was fine. He wouldn't deny his head was still hurting, but he'd had a thousand headaches in his lifetime. It would pass, they always did. He made a point to avoid walking beside his brother, or anyone else for that matter, wanting to avoid the endless stares and annoyingly repetitive questions. He wished they would just leave him alone. He curled his fists, his chest burning with irritation and carried on walking.
Fili was watching his brother very closely. Something wasn't right, he just knew it. Seventy seven years as an older brother had honed his skills in detecting when something was off. And something was most certainly off. But it was hard to find out what it was when Kili would hardly speak to him and would either shrink away or harshly shrug him off every time he tried to even touch him. He's not going to be himself, not immediately. We've only just got him back. Give him time. He kept repeating his uncles words in his head as they walked. But he just couldn't except them. Many times when Kili had been sick, he wouldn't act like himself, not wanting to practice with his bow or sword, not eating, not playing tricks, sleeping a lot. But this was something more than that. He wanted to think, that after two weeks, his over-protective-big-brother instincts were simply over-working themselves, making up for the time they hadn't been needed, but Fili knew that wasn't the case. And so, if Kili wouldn't tell him, he'd have to figure it out himself. He walked a step behind his younger sibling, eyes narrowed slightly, watching every step, every nervous twitch of his fingers, they way his muscles were stiff as he walked, as though he was on edge, a coiled animal ready to spring or flee.
After a while, it must have just passed midday, for the sun had began to dip from it's highest point, Fili noticed how his brother began to look more and more unsteady, almost tripping over his own feet, stumbling over cracks in the rocky bank, swaying slightly as he walked. He wanted to reach out and take his shoulders to steady him, but he knew he would get shrugged off if he did. So he simply lessened the space between himself and his brother, ready to offer help should his brother fall, and whether Kili liked it or not. But it turned out to be Kili reaching for him in the end.
"Fee…" Kili mumbled, his voice as unsteady as his trembling limbs, as he grabbed his brother's wrist, fingers curling tightly around it.
"What is it? What's wrong."
"C…can we stop, j..just for a minute." His head felt like it was going to explode, he pressed his hands to it, curling his fingers into his hair, tugging slightly as he tried to ease the pain.
"Kee?" The calm in his brother's voice was cracking, concern and fear crashing through it like an ill-built wall. "Are you alright?" Kili shook his head.
"No," Everything seemed to sway around him, the trees beside the riverbank bending at unnatural angles, the ground dipping and rising. "I … I need." His stomach twisted painfully as he pitched forward, if it wasn't for his brother's strong arms, he would have tumbled to the ground. Fili slowly and carefully lowered him down, all Kili's weight on him. Once his knees touched the hard ground, Kili couldn't hold it in as he was sick onto the rocks. Eyes squeezed shut against the bitter taste.
"Thorin!" He heard Fili scream over the sound of his blood pumping, over the high pitched buzzing which filled his mind. Thorin hurried over and knelt before his youngest nephew, worry all over his face, blue eyes wide. "I knew something was wrong," Fili said, rubbing his brother's convulsing back in big circles, "he's not been right all day." Thorin sighed sadly and called for Oin, the healer coming as quickly as his old bones would allow. Thankfully, by the time he got there, Kili had straightened up again, wiping the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand, panting. Oin placed a palm against his brow and pulled a concerned face at the heat he felt.
"The lad is feverish, he's burning up." He said.
"What do we do?"
"He needs to rest, this walking hasn't done him any good."
"Alright." Thorin nodded, feeling slightly guilty. "We'll move into the shade of the trees. You're right, we shouldn't have trekked today. He's not ready." Kili closed his eyes, trying to hide the shame he was feeling.
"I'm sorry." He said quietly, wrapping his arms tightly around himself.
"It's alright, you don't need to apologise." Came his brother's soft voice. Fili's hands curled themselves into his shoulder gently. Kili sighed.
You're mine now.
-AN-
I know, I know, it's very delayed. I'm so sorry, please don't be angry! This is the first day in weeks I've had to myself. There's been exams and birthdays and meeting and BBQs and my Uni's Summer Ball. It's been crazy! But, I decided to dedicate today to you guys and to getting this done as you're all so awesome and patient.
CHAPTER THIRTY! This is the longest I've kept at a fic, I usually get bored or forget after a while. And all this is down to YOU guys being so supportive and giving me such excellent feedback. This was supposed to be like a fifteen part story, no more than twenty, and we've still got so much more to go! I can see this getting to 60 chapters. Whoah. Give yourselves a pat on the back, guys!
Fili's in big brother mode (my fave) and he was right, something was wrong. But was that all? Or is there something else? Hmmm … I guess we'll have to find out.
Poor Kili. *sends him a hug, although he'll probably just shrug me off and tell me he's fine.*
Now that Uni is over and I have a little while before I head back to work for the summer, I'm gonna be working hard on this story as things are about to get good … or bad. Depends how you look at it really.
Also, did I mention how much of a blessing having Word on my iPad is? Cause it's fab.
As usual, faves, follows and (especially) reviews are much appreciated.
