Fili ached from head to toe, his muscles and bones weary from battle. He had not collected too many wounds, at least none that were serious, just an interesting accumalation of cuts and bruises, all of which had been tended to. The worst one, perhaps, was the one on his right forearm, from where he had raised it in defense, or else an orcish scimitar would have taken off his head. That had been on Ravenhill, amongst the ruined and frost covered guardpost. Now, he was sat inside a tent, a maze of which had been errected in the town square of Dale. There were about half-a-dozen of them, messy constructions of dusty and faded fabric and old wood. But they kept the wost of the wounded from the cold breeze, the rest of the wounded lined the streets by the hundreds. Those that were consious held themselves up weakly, bloody and dazed. Anyone with medical knowledge busied themselves, going from one person to the next, providing what aid they could. Fili had not been able to keep his eyes from the wounded as they passed them, following Oin - once they had found him - through Dale, he and Thorin holding Kili - who made it halfway to Dale before his consiousness left him - between them. There were so many of them, tightly packed shoudler to shoulder in the thin streets. Fili had always wanted to fight in a battle, to follow his uncle to glory. Ever since he was young, wearing costume armor and weildng a wooden sword, he had dreamed of it, for it was what princes did. But he never thought of the outcome, of the broken and the wounded, of their moans of pain, of their bloody and missing limbs. Nor did he think of the dead, who lined the streets, covered in red-stained blankets, faces covered respectfuly. There were too many of them to count. Most of them had died during the battle, but some had died after the fighting had ended, living long enough to see a victory before giving into their wounds. The only consolation that could be found was that there were more dead orcs than men or elves or dwarves. But even so, it was devistation and sadness. They had won the battle, but the victory had come at a cost. People had lost family, their mothers, their fathers and brothers, sons, daughters and sisters.
Fili sighed and reached out his hand, wrapping it around that of his brother who lay asleep on a bed, old blankets pulled up. He studied the rise and fall of Kili's chest and the paleness of his skin. He had lost a lot of blood between Ravenhill and Dale, thankfully by the time Oin led them to the tent, the flow from the long wound on his torso had become sluggish and the healer was able to do his work. Kili had collected far more wounds than Fili had, but, Fili supposed, Kili had been fighting for much longer, as Dale had been invaded by orcs long before the company had joined the battle. Fili felt a great shame in his gut that he and the others had hidden behind stone walls for so long whilst Dale was ravaged, that his little brother - who had already been through so much - was made to fight for his life. Fili was meant to fight side-by-side with Kili, that's what they had planned, ever since they were young. That when the time came to fight in a battle, they would do it together, as they did everything. But that had not come to pass. The only consolation Fili could find was that Bilbo had been there. So at least Kili had not been completely alone, at least there was a friend beside him.
"I wont leave you ever again," Fili said, nonetheless, giving his brother's hand a squeeze. He wanted so much for Kili to wake, to see his eyes, to hear his voice. On Ravenhill, Kili's eyes had been glazed, by pain and shock and he had not said a word. When Fili asked the healer when Kili would awaken, Oin had told him to be patient, that his brother would wake up when his body was ready. It could be hours or days. Fili could only pray that it was the former, he did not have much patience in that moment. "Wake up soon, nadadith, I've missed you so much."
Thorin and Dwalin strode through Dale. They were heading to the old market where Oin told them the rest of the company had gathered, all alive by some miracle. They said nothing as they walked, only kept their faces as impassive as they could as they passed the wounded and the dead. It had been many decades since they had fought a battle, and they had almost forgotten the ruin and devastation it left behind. Fighting a battle was never the hardest part of war, that was witnessing the scenes that were left in its wake.
"Thorin! Dwalin!" Bofur cried, jumping to his feet with a wide grin, as they entered the market. Somehow, his hat was still sat upon his head. That damned hat, Thorin thought with a smile, it must be stitched on and made of iron. Beside him, Dwalin dashed forward to wrap his arms around his brother, the pair chuckling with relief. Thorin studied the company, who had all risen to their feet, before him. All alive, if a little battered and bruised. Thorin noted Ori's brows pulled together, a glimmer of fear in his eyes.
"Where's Fili?" He asked in his mouse-like voice. Ori, who liked books and knitting, never had many friends in Ered Luin, but Thorin's nephews never allowed him to feel left out or alone, and had grown very close. No doubt he feared for his friend.
"Don't fret, Ori, he's alive. He is with his brother."
"Kili?" Balin asked, pulling away from Dwalin and taking a step forward. "Is the lad alright?"
"He was wounded on Ravenhill."
"Ravenhill? How did he get there? I thought he was in Dale."
"He knew that Bolg was coming from the north, when he saw us riding up there he came to warn us, to help us." Thorin told them, "the orcs got there first," he shrugged "but he arrived in time to save my life, again, and ..." Thorin paused and looked towards Dwalin, who smiled warmly, "kill Azog."
"Kili killed Azog?" Gloin asked, astounded.
"Aye, t'was not me, I merely held up his vile head for his army to see. It was Kili who slayed him. Azog wounded him but Oin says that he will be alright." Thorin wore, a wide, proud smile upon his lips. His youngest nephew was brave and strong, even after these two months of trails and suffering, and Thorin owed him a great deal. Twice Kili had saved his life, had saved him from the Pale Orc. The first time it resulted in him enduring weeks of pain and fear and misery. The second time had resulted in him almost being bled dry. Thorin would thank him, deeply and truly, when he woke up, and appologise for all the wrong he had done. But until then, he had other people to thank and appologise to. He looked at the company. "Thank you all, you did not need to fight, to follow me into battle, not after what I had done. What I had become."
"You're our king, Thorin." Balin said.
"I was not a good king, I was cruel and selfish. I was not good to you, any of you. And for that I am deeply sorry."
"That was the gold sickness, it was not you. And," the old dwarf shrugged, "it is in the past now Thorin, and that is not a place to dwell. It's time to look to the future now."
Oin entered the tent, ducking under the hanging fabric which marked the doorway, to find that Fili, too, had fallen asleep, one hand still wrapped around his brother's. Oin smiled. Fili needed to sleep, he was exausted from the battle, and his worry would only make it worse. The healer moved quietly through the tent and to the bed. It had been some hours since Kili had been layed upon it and now Oin had returned to check that no fever or infection had set in. The wound across his stomach and ribs had been quiet nasty, and orcish weapons were not the cleanest. As he leaned over the lad, Oin saw a thin sheen of sweat upon his brow. He pressed the back of his hand against his forehead, finding it warmer than he would like. He hummed and crossed the tent, picking up a bowl of water, a wet rag hanging over its side. He dipped his fingertip into the water, finding it cold, as was everything in Dale. It would do quite nicely. He moved back to the bed and placed the bowl onto the table beside it, the soft clatter it made being enough to wake Fili, who sat bolt upright, hand moving as though trying to find a weapon to protect his wounded brother.
"It's just me, lad." Oin said, holding up a hand. Fili immediantly relaxed and ran a hand over his face. "Sorry to disturb you."
"No, it's alright." Fili inwardly scolded himself for falling asleep. What if something had happened to Kili in that time? He needed to watch over him, protect him. He could not allow even a momentary lapse. Fili noted the bowl on the table and the cloth in Oin's hand, and felt his heart skip. "What's wrong?"
"You're brother has a slight fever."
"What?" Damn it, he thought, why did I allow myself to fall asleep? He rose to his feet and felt Kili's forehead, indeed it was warmer than it should be. "No, no, no. Why has he got a fever? What's wrong? Is it the wound? Is it infected?"
"Fili, be calm."
"I can't, I've lost him twice, I can't -"
"- You wont." Oin said in a soft voice, "this is not a bad fever, you brother had worse when he was a child. Now, try not to get yourself in a flap. I'm going to check his wound." Fili nodded, trying to calm himself, dragging in a long breath. He remained stood, ready to help, as Oin pulled back the sheet, revealing Kili's bandaged torso. The bandage that was wrapped around the orc wound was spotted with red blood, which soaked into the fabric. Oin, with gentle hands, unwound the dressing. Fili held his breath but exhaled when he saw that the stitched wound was not infected, it was no more red or inflamed than it had been before. In fact the swelling seemed to be going down.
"Thank Mahal," he breathed. "So why does he have a fever?" Oin shrugged as he re-wrapped the bandage.
"He's been through a lot, Fili. The last time we saw him he was very, very sick. He may not quite be over that yet. I will keep an eye on him."
"As will I." I will not fall asleep again. Fili reached across the bed, taking the bowl and the cloth, and sat back down. "Thank you, Oin. And I'm sorry I ... got myself into a flap." The healer chuckled. He lowered himself down upon the edge of the bed.
"You know, Gloin may be a seasoned warrior, have a son of his own now, but it doesn't stop me from fretting over him." He smiled. "We never stop worrying over our younger siblings, and you have more reason than most to worry over yours. He'll be alright Fili, he's been through so much and won so many fights that a tiny little fever wont be what takes him from you for good."
"You're right, Oin." Fili said, dipping the cloth into the water. He rung it and dabbed it against Kili's forehead, "I will never stop worrying about him. He has always found a reason to make me fret, be it falling out of trees or ..." Being possessed by a Necromancer, he thought. And though he did not voice his thoughts, he could tell than Oin understood. He placed the cloth back in the bowl to wet it again. "He will be old and grey and I shall still worry about him." Fili looked at Oin and smiled, "but yes, he is a fighter, more than we gave him credit for." He leaned forward and pressed the wet rag against Kili's forehead again. As the cold water began to run into his dark hair, Kili stirred. "He's waking." Fili took the cloth away and leaned above him, squeezing his brother's hand. "Come on Kili, open your eyes." Kili turned his head in the direction of Fili's voice, brows pulling together and a small groan escaping his lips.
"Fili?" He mumbled, brown eyes slowly fluttering open, his voice hoarse.
"Yes," Fili breathed, feeling a great relief wash over him, "yes, it's me, nadadith, I'm here." He stroked a hand across Kili's cheek. Oh, how good it was to see his brother's eyes, even though he had seen them in Ravenhill, before they fell shut, it felt it was as though he was seeing them for the first time since Kili was first taken on that cliff. Fili felt his own eyes grow wet, his vision blurring. Everything was going to be alright, he knew it. He smiled and pushed Kili's damp hair from his forehead. All the while, Kili's eyes did not leave his face, as though he could not quite believe he was there. "What is it Kili?"
"It ... it's just good to see you."
"It is good to see you too, little brother, I missed you so much." Fili said, pressing his forehead against Kili's, remaining like that for many long moments, as the two reveled in one another's presence, in the closeness they had missed. When they finally pulled themselves apart, the cheek's of both brother's were stained with tears of pure joy.
"Welcome back, lad." Oin smiled, rising to his feet. He looked at the two boys, together again as they always should be, as life and fate designed it. They had been seperated for long enough and Oin knew they needed some moments alone. He turned away, "I'm going to fetch your uncle, he would like to you that you're awake." And with that he ducked out of the tent.
"How is Thorin? And everyone else? Are they all alright?"
"Everybody is fine, they all live." Fili, too, had asked after his friends almost as soon as Oin had finished tending to Kili's wounds. He had been most relieved to hear that they were all well, and Kili obviously shared his relief, sighing with a smile. After a few moments, Kili pushed himself up onto his elbows, attempting to sit, but pain shot through him and he wrapped an arm across his stomach. "No, lay back down." Fili said, placing a hand on Kili's shoulder, "you don't want to pull your stitches. And be careful of your wrist," Fili pointed, "It's broken."
"How long was I asleep?"
"About half a day."
"I'm sorry, you told me to keep my eyes open."
"Hey, it's alright, you were wounded. You lost a lot of blood." Fili smiled, sitting down,"I'm just glad that they're open now."
"Were you hurt?"
"Just a few cuts and bruises, nothing serious." Fili leaned forward and took Kili's hand in his own. "I'm proud of you, Kili." Kili stared at him, brows knitting together, as if he didn't understand. "You fought very bravely, you killed Azog!" Fili beamed, "saved Thorin's life, saved us all!"
"No, no. I just ... I'm not some hero, Fili."
"Of course you are. You killed the pale orc, ended the battle. You are a -"
"- Don't call me that, please Fili, just don't." Kili turned his head and pulled his hand away.
"Alight, alright. I won't, I'm sorry." Fili was confused, Kili had always wanted to be a hero, ever since he was little, he had always wanted to save the day. And now ... Fili didn't understand. But he would not question it. Kili did not need stress, he needed rest, needed to heal. "Just, look at me, Kee. I won't say it again, I promise. Just look at me." He heard Kili drag in a deep breath before turning back.
"I'm thirsty, is there water?"
"Of course," Fili looked about the tent, spying a glass on a near table. He stood up and walked towards it, finding it empty. As was the jug beside it. He sighed. "It's empty. I can go and get some more, if you like?" At this, Kili shot up, hissing in pain as the orc wound pulled.
"No, please!" He cried, "I can wait! Don't go, please, I don't want to be alone, please don't leave me." Fili dropped the jug and rushed back to his brother, lowering himself onto the edge of the bed and clasping Kili's hand in his own. Kili looked so scared all of a sudden, a deep dread and panic in his dark eyes.
"I wont, it's alright," He said, "I'm not going to leave you ever again." He pulled Kili into a hug, feeling his brother wrap his good arm around him and bury his forehead into his shoulder. "I'll always be beside you, little brother, I won't ever leave. I promise." Fili rested his chin atop Kili's head and threaded a hand through his dark hair. In his hold, Fili suddenly realized how small Kili seemed, how thin. He had lost even more weight than since they were last together. No dwarf should be so thin, they were a sturdy race made of rock and iron, they were never in danger of snapping, their bones were metal. Kili's broken wrist was not a result of being thrown through the air by Azog, it was not enough force to break a dwarf's hardy bones. It was a result of months of starvation and suffering, of pain and misery. "You are safe now." And that was a promise.
"Kili." Came a voice. The two looked to see Thorin striding over with a great, relieved smile.
"Uncle!" Kili pulled himself away from Fili to wrap an arm around Thorin.
"Oh, my boy. How good it is to see you awake. I've missed you."
"I've missed you, too." Thorin placed one hand on each of his nephew's cheeks, smiling as he looked at them.
"Back together again, at last." He did not like seeing one nephew without the other, it was almost unnatural. It had been even worse to see one grieve a loss so terrible and painful. But now what had been torn apart had been put back together, rightfully. Thorin would not let it break again. "How are you feeling, Kili?"
"Alright I suppose," Kili shrugged, "I'm tired and aching."
"Understandable, you were in a battle. One you fought very bravely, I'm proud of you."
"Thanks," Kili said in a low voice, eyes falling away. This, Fili knew, was a subject his brother found uncomfortable. And whatever the reason, he did not wish him to become upset again.
"How are the others?" He asked, pushing to change the subject.
"They are all well," Thorin nodded, "glad to know that the two of you are alive."
"And Bard? Have you seen him?" Kili asked, "Thranduil wasn't very accomodating, but Bard was good to me ... despite what happened in his house." He still felt guilty about that, despite the bargeman telling him otherwise.
"Briefly, he's alright. He's seeing to his people." Kili smiled at this. He was glad that Bard was alive, he had found a friend in him in a town of unkind strangers. Kili rested his head back against the pillow and looked up at the tent roof, the faded blue fabric - like the sky on a cold morning - flapped gently . The soft movement made him feel tired, his eyes growing heavy again. He could not quite stifle the yawn that came next. "Rest now, nephew." Thorin said, laying a hand on Kili's leg, "you must re-build your strength."
It did not take long after that for the youngest Durin to fall asleep once more. As he slept, his face peaceful, Thorin and Fili sat in silence. It was not particularly awkward, but it was there and it was heavy and all-consuming. It was one of those silences that was loud and spoke a thousand words. Thorin wanted to break it, there was much he wanted to say. But it was as though his throat was clogged and so he simply watched. Watched as Fili tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind his brother's ear with a soft hand, palm lingering on his forehead to feel his temperature. He took up the bowl and cloth again and began to tend to his brother, eyes ever-watchful. It was a sight Thorin had grown very used to in the last seven decades. Kili had been quite susceptible to fevers and colds as a child, and Fili would pester his mother and uncle into allowing him to help. And as the years went on and Kili grew out of colds and fevers and into falling out of trees and getting into fights Fili was always there to patch up his wounds and insure his recovery. It's my job, he would say, I'll always watch over him. And although Thorin did not wish to pull Fili from what he believed in his soul and in his bones was his most important duty, he could feel words begin to claw their way up his throat.
"May we go outside?"
"You may, I'm staying right here." Fili said without looking at him. It was clear that he was somewhat angry with his uncle. Thorin sighed, flicking his eyes towards Kili, his chest rising and falling with soft, consistent breaths, and cleared his throat.
"Thank you for fighting beside me." He said. Beside him, Fili inhaled, as though preparing himself to talk, but Thorin held up a hand before he got the chance, "I know what you're going to say, that you were fighting for him, not for me. But even so, you came with Dwalin and I to Ravenhill when I could see in your eyes that you were desperate to get to Dale. You did not desert me, you were loyal." Fili shot him a quick sideways glance before placing the cloth in the bowl on his lap. He sighed.
"You're my uncle, Thorin. You raised me like a father. And ... despite all the things you said and did, or perhaps all the things you didn't do, I wouldn't abandon you." Blue eyes met blue, those of the younger dwarf suddenly hard. "Durins don't abandon their family." There was a harsh tone to his words. Thorin simply nodded.
"Yes, you're right." He looked towards Kili, "I did abandon him. I turned him away, denied him, gave him to the elves, sent him unprepared into a battle." Thorin paused and stared at his youngest nephew, pride and love swelling in his gut. "And he saved my life. He was braver than I. I was a coward, I kept us behind stone walls, went back on my word. After all he has been through, he was truer to the Line of Durin than I was." He reached and place a hand on Fili's shoulder, feeling the blond tense. "You both were. It was not just him I abandoned, Fili, it was you, too. You were grieving. You needed me and I dismissed your grief for foolishness, when it was I who was the fool. You spoke for the company, like a true prince." He pulled in a long, deep breath. "I know what we had between us has been broken, I hope we can rebuild it."
"Nothing will be as it was." Thorin's eyes fell at this. He loved his nephews like his own sons, the idea that their relationship was tarnished and broken was as terrifying as loosing the mountain, more than. "I don't mean me and you. Yes, it is not as it was, but that doesn't mean it wont be again. I'm talking about - "
" - Your brother."
"Yes, I'm worried about what these months may have done to him." Fili thought of Kili's odd behavior, how irritated he had become when he called him a hero, his sudden and desperated fear of being left in that tent alone. Kili's eyes were darker, that had been the first thing Fili noticed about them when he woke up, that distinguishing sparkle they had, that glint of joy and mischief, hadn't been there. He's just tired, Fili had thought. But then, he hadn't been so sure. "I don't want these horrible memories to haunt him. I just wish he couldn't remember, forget it all."
"I know. But he will have us both beside him, all of us."
"If you wish to repair us, Thorin, then, going forward, put him first. Yes, by all means rebuild your kingdom, but please, do not forget your love for him again."
"Fili, you don't even need to ask that of me. I can assure you, your brother's welfare, and yours, is at the forefront of my thoughts. I will never abandon either of you again, for as long as I live. Because I can see what is of true value now."
"Thank you, uncle." Fili nodded, he could see the sincerity in Thorin's blue eyes, could hear it in his words. He sounded much like the uncle he knew, and Fili was filled with new hope, that things would soon be as they were meant to be. He smiled.
- AN -
Howdily doodily readerinos? Thankfuly this chapter was shorter than the last one! Pretty much everything I had on my ... I wouldn't call is a schedule, but y'know what I mean, is done so there's not much that's gonna get in the way of more and faster uploads ... except my own lazy ass of course XD
A nice little chapter after all the havoc, our brothers are together again after long last!
I expect another dozen chapters perhaps, I don't want it to drag on too much but there's a lot to be resolved and leaving the story here would suck, plus I'm not ready to say goodbye to it just yet. Remember, the next few chapters are going to deal with PTSD and depression/anxiety, I'm going to write about them to the best of my ability, but as I said, I've never suffered with any of them so any tips you guys can give me will be highly appreciated! I want to represent them truthfuly as to not offend anyone. Thanks!
Remember, review are appreciated and, if you haven't already, remember to fave and follow :D
