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The first time he saw Kili, he didn’t understand what was happening to him.
His five-year-old brain told him on no uncertain terms that the thing was icky. It was red and wrinkly and scrawny, and so noisy that he wanted to stick his fingers in his ears and run away! But at the same time, he couldn’t take his eyes off it. An explosion of warmth filled his chest, spreading to his stomach, then all the way down to the tips of his toes. Instead of drawing back, which was what his young mind firmly instructed him to do, he stepped closer and asked, “May I hold him?”
Thorin looked to Dis, who nodded, smiling. “You may, as long as you allow your uncle to help you.”
The next thing he knew, a soft bundle of baby dwarf lay in his arms. It was so tiny, so impossibly small that he couldn’t help looking at it in wonder and awe. The baby looked back, eyes big and dark and solemn, fixed on his face. Surprisingly, it had stopped crying the moment he picked it up.
“Why doesn’t he smile, uncle? Is he sad?”
Thorin chuckled. “No, Fili. It just takes time for babies to learn to smile and laugh. Your brother is still too young for that, but he will in time, you will see.”
Fili didn’t see. He hadn’t wanted a baby brother at all, things were fine with just him and mother and uncle Thorin.
Some of his thoughts must have shown on his face, because Thorin frowned suddenly and said very seriously, “Fili, I hope you realise what an honour it is to be an elder brother. There is great joy to be had in such a relationship. But it is also a great responsibility. Kili will look up to you, admire you and try to do everything you do. It is up to you to take care of him, help him and prove that you are worthy of his love. Can you do that?”
The heat in the pit of his stomach curled up a little at the word ‘love’, and somehow he found himself nodding earnestly. “I will, uncle. I promise.”
The strange feeling, he decided, must be this new responsibility that his uncle was talking about.
Baby Kili grew and grew, and as Thorin predicted, he eventually began to smile. Fili himself did not realise it, but the baby smiled more often for his elder brother than for either his mother or uncle. The two brothers were playing peekaboo one day– or rather, Fili was playing peekaboo while Kili blinked large surprised eyes every time Fili popped up- when Kili laughed for the first time, a merry, impish little chuckle. When Fili heard it, he froze where he was in amazed delight. Kili held pudgy arms out to him, babbling in his soft baby language, and Fili’s heart was so filled that he couldn’t speak. He picked Kili up carefully. Kili giggled again, and snuggled into Fili’s arms. There and then, Fili resolved that he would make Kili laugh like that every day for the rest of their lives.
Over the years, he did his best to hold on to that promise. The two were generally inseparable, Kili following his elder brother everywhere. There came a day, however, when Dis was in the midst of preparing dinner and realised that she had run out of an essential ingredient. She called for Fili. Both her sons came running to her. Fili she sent out to purchase the missing item, but a protesting Kili was told that he was too young to go to the village without an adult present.
Fili set off alone. It was strange not having his brother beside him, filling the quiet with his familiar chatter. Nonetheless he walked faster, telling himself that the sooner he got there, the sooner he would be back.
After a while, he heard a breathless shout, “Fili! Fili, wait for me!” He turned to see Kili some distance behind, padding towards him on his short legs as quickly as he could.
“Kili! What are you doing here? Mother said you’re not supposed to come!”
Kili looked up at him, big brown eyes pleading. “Yes, but- I don’t wanna be left behind! Take me too, Fili, I’ll be really good, promise!”
Indecision clawed at Fili. For a moment, he was tempted to let his brother have his way; after all, the trip to the store was only a short one. Even as he was about to say so, a series of images flashed into his mind: Kili, darting into the street and being run over by a horse and carriage, his small vulnerable body crushed beneath the wheels. Fili taking his eyes off him for a moment, only to turn around and find his brother gone, lost in the crowd. Maybe he would get snatched away by some nasty elves.
In a split second, he changed his mind. “No, Kili, you can’t come. I’m sorry.”
Kili’s lower lip wobbled. In another dwarfling, that might have been a sign of a prospective crying fit, but Fili knew his brother too well for that possibility to even cross his mind. Instead, he braced himself, steeling his ears. Sure enough, Kili burst out in a child’s temper tantrum, stamping his feet.
“You don’t want me around! You’re tired of me! You don’t love me anymore!”
The idea was so entirely ridiculous that Fili couldn’t help laughing. Kili certainly had a habit of being melodramatic, young though he was. “Don’t be silly!”
Kili’s bright red, furious face scrunched up, and then the tears came.
All at once it didn’t seem funny any more.
He tried to take his little brother into his arms, but Kili pushed him away, still crying stormily. And Fili made up his mind that it didn’t matter if dinner was awful that night.
“Please don’t cry, Kili. I promise, I’m not going anywhere without you. Let’s just go home; I’ll explain things to mother.”
When they arrived home, he sent Kili to wash his face, and went to their mother alone. Upon hearing his tale, Dis looked at him with something like worry.
“Fili, darling- I am glad that you and Kili love each other, but you must not indulge him in this way. One day, you will grow up, marry and raise a family, and you will both have separate duties and separate lives. It is not right for you to be so dependent on each other.”
Fili’s straight young figure drooped with shame. “I’m sorry, mother. I know it was stupid, but it’s just that when Kili is upset, suddenly nothing else matters.”
Attempting to explain was a struggle. “It’s as though- as though everything else stops. He’s the only thing in the world, and I have to make him happy again, no matter what it takes. And if I can’t, it’s like there’s an ache in my chest which won’t stop. It hurts so much, I can’t breathe! But I can’t make it go away.”
Dis wore an odd, unreadable expression. “And when you are not with him, Fili? How does that make you feel?”
The question surprised him a little. Surely she must know how it felt to have a brother? All the same, he thought about it for a moment, trying to find the right words to be as honest as he could.
“It feels like something is missing. I mean, it sounds obvious, but it’s not just that he’s missing. Argh, it’s so hard to explain!”
He halted in frustration, thinking, before continuing. “When he’s not there, I feel like part of me is gone as well. It’s almost like there’s a part of me that only exists when Kili is with me. Even if I’m busy and not really thinking about him, I can still sense it.”
The wooden cooking spoon Dis was holding clattered to the floor. Horrified realization dawned in her eyes.
Covering her face with both her hands, she took a few steps backwards, and dropped into a kitchen chair.
“Mother!” cried Fili, rushing to her. “Mother, what’s wrong? Are you ill?”
She smiled at him, a watery, shaky smile. “No, darling. Everything is fine, I’ve just thought of something very important that I need to discuss with your uncle. Can you go to the forge with a message?”
Thorin came over for dinner that night. Afterwards, he and Dis put the boys to bed, and went into the living room. They remained there well into the night, speaking in low tones that did not carry.
The next morning, Fili saw that his mother looked sorrowful and his uncle’s expression was grim. However, he never did find out what the urgent matter was that they had discussed.
Dis did not bring up the need for independence again.
By the time Kili became full-grown, the brothers had realised that most siblings did not experience the same kind of bond they shared. Indeed, there were times when their unusual closeness resulted in their being laughed at by others their age. “Babies! Can’t you go anywhere alone? Or are you afraid of the big bad world outside, your highness?”
No matter how furious he became, Fili managed to quell his rage, ignoring them for the most part, but Kili was hot-tempered. The comments both embarrassed and angered him. He often got into scraps with other dwarves, stoutly defending his and his brother’s honour. But there was only so much a pair of fists could do to dispel teasing.
When Kili came home one night sporting a mass of ugly scrapes and swollen bruises, wincing with each step he took, it was Fili who soothed, cleaned wounds and applied salves and ointments. It was Fili who rocked his little brother to sleep in his arms, singing lowly to distract him from the pain.
And when Kili was safely asleep, it was Fili who armed himself to the teeth and stole out of the house. Under the cover of darkness, he hunted the offender down, and made him pay for daring to touch what was his. The dwarf concerned did not leave his house for a full month afterwards. Whispered tales of a vengeful, implacable spirit with feral eyes spread among those concerned. Accounts varied widely and were scattered and confused, but at any rate the two young heirs of Durin had no more trouble with bullies.
Kili admired his elder brother immensely, and Fili returned his regard with equal fervency. Nothing changed as time went on. If anything, they grew closer than ever, needing nothing and no one but each other.
Perhaps that was why, when it finally happened, it wasn’t a big event. In fact, it felt so natural that Fili doubted it could even be considered an event.
He was a few days from his majority when he woke up one morning, looked over at his brother in the next bed, and just knew. There was no surprise at the realisation. On the contrary, he felt as though he had always known on some level, as though his entire life before had been leading up to this moment. Loving Kili was entirely natural, like the waxing and waning of the moon, like the movement of air in and out of his lungs. And it felt completely right, like the heat of the forge and the sweat on his skin as he worked.
He went to his mother and confessed everything. The resigned acceptance she displayed surprised him, and left him with the niggling suspicion that she had suspected already. In any case, she counselled him to wait. Kili was not yet ready, being too young for courting, and too immature for both the delights and duties that come with love.
Fili found that he did not really mind. He had been blessed; he had found a One who was perfect for him in every way. He could wait as long as he had to.
On the morning of his coming of age, he was woken up by bright and early by a hyperactive Kili, bouncing about in their room. “Congratulations, brother! You’re officially old! Here, have my gift!” Kili’s eyes were sparkling with anticipation as Fili unwrapped his present, a boot blade that Kili had forged himself. It was littered with runes for luck and safety and protection. Fili thanked him wholeheartedly, promising that he would have it on him at all times.
“What is it like to reach your majority?” asked Kili, curiosity spiking his voice. “Do you feel different? Do I seem very young to you all of a sudden?”
Fili laughed and thought, if you only knew. “Not so very different, brother,” he reassured him. “You will understand when your time comes.” At least, I hope so. You are such a child still, love, I fear I may have to wait several years longer than that!
His premonition proved accurate. Kili came of age, and Fili was on edge and expectant several weeks beforehand, but to no avail. The great event came and went, and still there was no look of recognition in his brother’s eyes, no moment of realization, nothing. However, this type of delay was not unheard of, so Fili shrugged and tried not to feel too downhearted. He’d waited this long, he could wait longer still. It would be worth all the hours of waiting just to see the look of love in his brother’s eyes, and know that it was for him and him alone.
His only worry was the uncertainty. Before, Kili’s coming of age had been a deadline he could hold on to, look forward to as a possible trigger. He was mentally prepared. Now, however, he had no idea how long he would need to wait, and no warning when it might happen.
Therefore, when Thorin came to them with the news of the quest, his heart leapt. If anything could be a potential trigger, this was it. So many dwarves, his parents included, had discovered their love for each other in the face of imminent danger. He figured there must be something romantic about the threat to life and limb. He couldn’t exactly see what was so romantic about having his innards ripped out and chewed by foul beasts, but hopefully Kili would.
During the quest, he and Kili were inseparable as ever. They ate together, slept together, and took their watches together. At least, until the incident with the ponies, when Thorin gave orders that they be split up, since they clearly could not be trusted to notice even something as obvious as giant trolls.
They had no excuse. They had simply been talking in the moonlit clearing when Kili confessed that he missed home and their mother. He looked so young and vulnerable that it had taken all of Fili’s willpower not to kiss him then and there. Ponies had been the farthest things from his mind. The strange thing was that he almost thought Kili might have sensed it too. There had been an unfamiliar, nervous awareness in Kili’s eyes as he moved closer, and in that moment, Fili was certain his kiss would have been returned. Before anything happened, however, they had been jerked out of the moment by the sound of Mr Baggins scrambling through the undergrowth to them.
That was the first time it almost happened. The second time came when they had left Rivendell and were on the mountain pass, caught in the mighty roar of the storm giants’ battle. With horror, he realised that the crack in the ground between him and Kili was getting wider, and he screamed, “Kili! Grab my hand!” But Kili was frozen and seemed unable to move, despairing eyes fixed on Fili as though he was losing something incalculably precious.
When they found each other again, crushed in Thorin’s weighty embrace, they exchanged fervent prayers and thanks to Mahal for sparing them. They slept in each other’s arms that night, and the flickering hope in Fili’s heart was brighter than it had ever been.
After that night, however, the constant threats from goblins, orcs, wargs and starvation in swift succession all conspired to shove aside his hopes and worries for a time. He was far too occupied with being afraid for himself, for Kili and Thorin, and the rest of the company. As things stood, he was pretty sure they would be wandering in Mirkwood forever and die of hunger and thirst, since even the rivers were too enchanted to be of any bloody use to anyone. By Mahal, he detested this place!
It was during this time that Kili came to him, wearing a strange, dazed look on his face, speaking in hushed tones. “I had the dream, Fili. The same dream Bombur described, about the feast and the woodland king. I saw them! They were elves, I think.”
He paused, taking a deep breath as though trying to work up the nerve to go on. “But there was more to it than that.”
Fili made an encouraging mm-hmm noise.
“There was a female elf,” said Kili, and he spoke as one who was lost in wonder and admiration. “She was standing near the king. Fili, she was magnificent! As dazzling as the sun by day and stars by night, as proud as the white elk of the forest, as deadly as a viper!”
Fili gaped at him. Had he ever heard Kili this eloquent before?
“She’s probably not a real person,” added Kili hastily, as though trying to convince himself. “It’s just a dream, of course it is. But it felt so real…” He shook his head experimentally, like a dog trying to get water out of its ears, and gave Fili a whimsical smile.
Fili tried his best to push this new development from his mind, but it was hard. From that moment on, whenever Kili muttered in his sleep at night, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was dreaming of the beautiful Elf. He didn’t dare to ask. No, far easier to put it all behind him and dismiss it as the random and senseless incident it was.
When the wood-elves finally appeared, none of the dwarves attempted to put up even a token resistance, exhausted and hungry and sick from spider venom as they all were. All they could do was glower at their captors. Their chief was a tall Elf-woman, remarkably beautiful and graceful even for her kind, proud and fierce but with an ethereal air about her. And Fili, seeing the way Kili’s eyes followed her with incredulous disbelief, felt his heart sink to the bottom of his boots. He hardly needed Kili’s hissed, “It’s her!” to confirm it.
He did not see his brother for days afterwards, locked as they were into their individual cells in Thranduil’s dungeons. Only after the barrels popped open at Long Lake and they were safely ensconced in Esgaroth, did he manage to speak to Kili again. The younger dwarf told him about his adventures during his barrel journey, and how dull and lonely it was in his cell. “I missed you,” he added with a grin, pulling lightly on one of Fili’s braids.
But then the younger dwarf cut himself off abruptly. “Fili, I have something to tell you.” His tone was unexpectedly serious, and even as he spoke, a dusky red blush stained his cheeks. It was so unlike him that Fili automatically reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his brother’s shoulder.
Looking at him earnestly, Kili said, “I’ve found my one.”
Kili took his hand, and all at once Fili’s pulse was thrumming wildly, so quickly that he thought he might actually black out. All the long years of waiting, hoping- everything was caught up in this moment. He waited, heart in his throat. The younger dwarf dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead briefly to Fili’s hand, which was still in his grasp.
“After this quest is over and we retake Erebor, I intend to woo her. Brother, will you give me your blessing? I know that our uncle will not approve, but in this case, your word and of course Tauriel’s, are the only ones that matter to me. I would speak now, but as it is I have nothing to offer her.”
“Tauriel?” Fili’s voice came out as a croak, the sound of which was completely unfamiliar to him. There was a strange buzzing in his ears. Blood was rushing to his head, and the room suddenly seemed to fade into the background.
“Aye,” confirmed Kili, the now-familiar dreamy look on his face. “The Elf in my dream. Her name is Tauriel. She came into my cell several times to interrogate me. I’ve never met anyone like her, Fili, she is everything I ever dreamt of! And the most incredible thing is that I did dream about her before I met her. It must surely be fate!”
Unable to meet his brother’s eyes, Fili stared down at his hands, which, he’d only just noticed, were jittering badly.
Kili, who still had a hand over his brother’s, looked at him in surprise and concern. “Fili, are you all right?”
He was vaguely aware of the warnings emanating from one part of his brain, telling him that for Kili’s sake he must speak, he must pretend… He couldn’t let Kili find out, not now… Mahal, I cannot lose him! The thought galvanized him into action, and as a desperate, last-ditch measure, he dragged the smooth, polished, unreadable mask of the heir of Durin across himself like a physical shield.
He never knew afterwards what he had said, or how he managed to hold himself together when his world was shattering into a thousand cold unfeeling shards around him. All he knew was that he must have said the right things, done the right things, because Kili left encouraged and pleased and ready to begin courting his Tauriel as soon as he could.
As soon as Kili walked out of the room, Fili’s trembling limbs lost their battle to remain upright. He was sent tumbling onto the floor. Flashes of Kili assaulted his mind -Kili the baby, the child, the awkward teenager, and the adult- every affectionate touch, warm smile and loving look, all for him, always for him.
No. Not for him, and Kili would never be his now.
A harsh, animalistic cry reverbated in his ears, and he realised it came from him. He was no better than a beast- a creature wounded to the death, crawling back into its hole to wait it out in peace. The only thing he still seemed able to do was to gasp out Kili’s name, over and over and over again, clinging to it like a lifeline.
If he thought he still had a chance, he would have fought for Kili, damn Tauriel to hell! But that was not the way of dwarven hearts, he knew. There was only one, would only ever be one, and it was not him.
Dimly, he registered the fact that his lungs were not working properly. He could hear his breaths coming in quick, loud, shallow gasps, but each one was like the stab of a knife through his chest, and he felt as though there was no oxygen getting to his body. Perhaps that explained the huge, aching waste of space where his heart had been.
The overriding thought in his head was that he had to get away, run as fast and far from Kili’s laughter and loving words and dreams of another as he possibly could, but there was nowhere to go. Besides, he was Thorin’s heir; he had a duty which could not be forgotten.
His mask was the only defence he had left. But the very fact that he now had to use it with Kili, the one person in the world with whom he had always been able to be completely himself, crushed him with the weight of despair.
The food at Lake-town was far better than most of their previous fare during their travels. The Company ate happily, enjoying the unusual luxury. All except Fili, whose normally healthy appetite had deserted him.
He sat with the others at mealtimes, as was expected of him. However, the hard lump in his throat made him choke on each morsel, hindering him from swallowing properly. If he did manage to get something down, it stuck in his chest for hours afterwards, making him feel ill and often resulting in his vomiting it back out. This happened many times, until his throat was rubbed raw and so inflamed that he couldn’t swallow his own saliva without it stinging and burning. Eventually he gave up trying to eat any solid food, managing to get by on small sips of milk.
Kili still sat beside him at mealtimes, however, so for his sake Fili pretended. He piled food high onto his plate, rearranging it constantly, and slipped some into his pockets to be given to the stray dogs around the town later. For the same reason, he tried to participate in the general conversation, but it was a huge effort for him to focus on anything for any length of time. In the end he stopped trying, beyond answering any remarks directly addressed to him. Even then, he often had to be called two or three times before he realised he was being spoken to.
He was so tired, he thought miserably. His sleep at night now was consistently infiltrated by dreams of Kili. Kili, his dark hair shining in the soft firelight, grinning widely at him; Kili’s deft fingers braiding and caressing his brother’s hair as he chattered away; Kili’s warmth as he curled up next to him at night, Kili… Kili.
For a time he would forget, lost in the sweetness of dreams. But when he woke, Kili’s laughter echoing in his ears, the sheer magnitude of his loss would crash down on him all over again. Each time it felt as though the holes in his heart were being ripped even further apart, like a piece of fabric being torn again and again until it was held together only by the barest of threads. The waking hurt so much more than remembering all the time would have, that he tried not to fall asleep any more than he could help. Instead he spent the time training, practising with his hunting knives and throwing axes until his muscles screamed in protest if he so much as tried to lift his arm.
Despite Fili’s best efforts at disguising it, the rest of the company, Kili included, soon sensed that something was wrong. Fili was so pale, so listless and withdrawn, and his laughter had grown so rare, that even a blind person would have noticed. The bruised bags under his eyes seemed to be permanently etched there. That was when the barrage of concerned questions began. Fili could not explain himself to anyone’s satisfaction. The best he could manage was, “Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine, honestly,” and “Just a bit tired, I didn’t sleep very well,” like a broken record.
It came as no surprise that no one believed him. He suspected that the rest of the Company thought that he was afraid, with Smaug now so close. The shame of being thought a coward made him feel worse than ever. He imagined that everyone must be talking about him, mocking his cravenness, thus he avoided the others as much as possible.
Of course, Kili badgered him with questions, even going down on his knees at one point imploring Fili to tell him what was wrong. The grief and agitation clearly displayed by his brother cut Fili to the heart. However, for the first time that either of them could remember, he refused his brother, and would not explain why.
Mahal, it hurt to do that, and the desolation in Kili’s eyes only made it worse. But there was nothing for it except to endure as well as he could, and do his duty. He was keenly aware that he was doing a pathetically poor job of it. The guilt stemming from this failure simply piled on to the heavy weight already crushing him.
At times when it got to be too much, he would conceal himself in a quiet corner, attempting to ensure that no one saw him. He was successful in this regard with everyone except the person he most wanted to avoid. Kili knew his brother, and when he suspected something was amiss, he would find him no matter where he had hidden.
He usually found Fili curled in a loose ball, arms around his knees. The blond dwarf’s body shook in exhaustion, utterly spent from the combination of physical and mental agony. Damp streaks lined the face he tried to turn away from his brother. When this happened, Kili would wrap fierce protective arms around him, cleaning his face with whatever he had handy. Gentle fingers stroked Fili’s hot forehead even as Kili’s pleading filled his ears.
“Fili… oh God, Fili, you have no idea how much it hurts me to see you like this. Please, brother, I beg you, tell me what is wrong! Why won’t you talk to me? Or is it me? Have I done something to upset you somehow?”
Beyond shaking his head, Fili never answered. Kili would continue beseeching him, sometimes for a short period, sometimes for hours. But it always ended up in him pressing his forehead to Fili’s and murmuring, “No matter what it is, remember that I am here for you. I love you, brother, more than my own life.”
Despite the voice in his head lecturing him, telling him he should know better, Fili clung on to these small crumbs of comfort. He knew he was likely making things harder for himself by doing that, but he simply could not bear to cut Kili out of his life entirely. It would have been like hacking his own arm off.
It was a relief when the Company left Esgaroth for the Lonely Mountain. The succeeding events at least gave him something to think about besides his own misery. There were plans to be made, tactics to be discussed, and things to be done which could mean the difference between certain death and survival.
Fili came into his own as an heir of Durin then. Having been well taught in battle strategy, geography and politics, and having a good head of his own, his opinions were sought for and meant something within the company despite his youth. Having something concrete to do was a huge help. He could not forget, but firmly he shoved his private affairs to the back of his mind, and resolved to do his duty or die trying. Eventually he was elevated from a state of absolute depression and hopelessness to one of numbness, where he could at least think and function, if he could feel nothing else.
Thorin called for a council of war the night before the great battle, when Bard, Thranduil and their people were crowded outside the gates of Erebor. Balin, Dwalin, Gloin, Oin and the others all gave the best advice they could. However, there was no evading the fact that they were few in number, and any strategy they could adopt was severely limited by that fact.
Fili snuck a look at the now-familiar faces of the Company around him. There was fear in more than one pair of eyes, tempered by resigned acceptance in the older, more hardened dwarves. Only his uncle Thorin still glowed with confidence and the flame of battle lust, so fiercely that Fili shrunk back from him.
After the meeting, Fili found himself alone with Thorin and Balin. He made to leave, but his uncle stopped him with a light touch. Fili didn’t miss the swift glances he and Balin exchanged.
When Thorin spoke, his voice was unusually soft. “Is there anything you care to tell us, Fili? Battle is coming, and it doesn’t do to go into it with worries hanging over you.”
Fili tried to deflect the question as usual, but Balin shook his head. “No use trying to fool us, laddie. Both your uncle and I have known you since you were a wee child. What’s the matter? It’s your duty to tell us, for if you become distracted at a key point during the fight, it could mean the death of both you and your companions, meaning us.”
Fili felt himself going pale at the thought. Curse Balin and his wily ways! He glared at the white-bearded dwarf, who twinkled back at him, unrepentant.
“It’s something to do with your brother, isn’t it? He’s going around with the same hangdog expression. Have you two fought? Mind, that doesn’t seem entirely likely to me, knowing you both.”
“No, we haven’t fought,” answered Fili automatically. He hesitated. “It’s just that he… I…” To his horror, Fili could feel tears pricking at the corner of his eyelids, and he had to duck his head in embarrassment.
He felt a rough hand touching his face, and heard Thorin’s gruff voice. “It’s all right, Fili. Balin, would you leave us for a moment please?”
He heard footsteps moving in the opposite direction, and looked up to see Thorin cross-legged on the floor. Thorin gestured to a spot beside him. “Sit down, Fili. I want you to tell me everything now. That is an order.”
Fili jerked back as though he had been burnt, both in shock and anger. “It is none of your concern, my King. This is a private matter, you have no right to ask me that!”
He wasn’t sure if he’d ever stood up to his uncle in that way before, but he found that he didn’t really care.
Thorin sighed. “I phrased that badly. I apologize. Now will you please tell me?” Then, more gently, “Your welfare is my concern, Fili, as it has always been. I would not see you unhappy if I could prevent it.”
The rare show of affection from his usually reserved uncle was what broke him. In a moment, he found himself seated next to Thorin, spilling out his story in a few terse sentences. The King under the Mountain’s face grew grave and anxious as he listened.
“Your mother and I have known for a long time that Kili was your One. But we assumed- it is always reciprocated, there is never a third party- how could this have happened?”
Fili had asked himself the same question countless times. Was there something wrong with him, that his One had rejected him?
“Hasn’t this ever happened before?” he asked, a little desperately.
“The closest case I can recall is the legend of Elis of the golden hair,” answered Thorin, looking deeply troubled. “That happened when my great-great-grandfather was a child. They say she was extraordinarily beautiful, with a head of shining hair that fell beyond her feet. Unfortunately, she fell in love with Gaash the master carver, he who created a garden of living jewels. He was so skilled that the flowers, bushes and trees he carved appeared as though they were alive, and it was the most beautiful and romantic spot in all the dwarven kingdoms. But Gaash himself was dedicated only to his craft, and did not wish to take a wife.”
Fili looked up at him questioningly. “What happened to them?”
“Elis was so distraught that she finally took her own life in the garden. The story goes that when Gaash came in the next day, her hair was spread like molten gold among the cold stone and jewelled plants, which looked so lifeless in comparison that he was ashamed. He ended up destroying every piece of his work by his own hand, and never made another as long as he lived.”
A shudder ran down Fili’s spine at the gruesome ending. The act of creation, the ability to make beautiful or useful things using one’s hands, was an integral part of any dwarf. It was his birthright. To lose that skill would be a dwarf’s worst nightmare.
Was that to be his fate, then? But even Gaash of the legend had not fallen in love with another. There really must be something wrong with him, he concluded in despair. Breathing heavily, he closed his eyes.
The next moment, he was startled to feel strong arms wrapping around him. Thorin’s voice spoke in his ear, impossibly gentle. “I do not pretend to understand this situation, Fili, and I can offer you little else besides poor attempts at comfort. The only thing I can advise is for you to wait, and hold on.”
“I don’t know how much longer I can bear this, uncle,” he whispered miserably, ashamed of his weakness. “I’m trying, I really am. But I’m just so tired. I want it all to stop. I want- I want to fall asleep and not dream, and never wake again. If death in battle tomorrow is to be my fate, I would welcome it.”
He expected his uncle to pull away with a look of contempt, to deride him for his pathetic behaviour, but when he dared to look up at Thorin’s face, he found only love and understanding. This unexpected and, as he thought, undeserved kindness was such a balm to his sore heart that he slumped against his uncle in relief, laying his head in Thorin’s lap as he and Kili had done as children. Fatigue washed over him like a wave.
As though from far away, he heard Thorin’s deep voice. “Do not give up yet, little one. There are many who care for you, and as much as you love your brother, your mother and I love you. Rest, now. No harm will come to you while I am watching.”
Comforted, Fili slept. And for the first time in weeks, no nightmares plagued him, as though Thorin’s presence kept them at bay.
Fili never remembered much about the battle itself afterwards. His main impression of it was one of confusion and fear, overlaid with the screams of the dying, screeches of the wargs and the harsh clashing sound of steel on steel.
In his mind, the only important thing was that they all survived, although a few of the company members were injured badly enough to require full bed rest for some time. Thorin was among these. As such it fell to Fili, assisted by Balin and the senior members of the company, to perform the duties of the king for a time. Among his first actions were to see to the fallen, send messengers to Ered Luin and the Iron Hills, arrange diplomatic talks with the surrounding kingdoms, and recompense the people of Lake-town.
His new duties kept him sufficiently busy that he didn’t have time to think too much about Kili. Ever present in the back of his mind, though, was the awareness that now Erebor had been won, Kili would soon go to Mirkwood and begin his courtship.
Indeed, Kili came to him two weeks after the battle, all eager smiles and blushes, asking to be included in the diplomatic mission to Mirkwood. Fili had been expecting it, so he was able to withstand the latest blow with fortitude. He almost wished that he could refuse to allow Kili to go, but then what excuse could he give? Just because he himself was unhappy was no reason for Kili to suffer as well. And so, albeit reluctantly, he gave his permission. Bofur and Ori, arguably the members of the company least likely to give offence in such a delicate task, were to accompany him.
The visit to Mirkwood was intended to last two months, for their goal had been to build up as strong relations with the Elves as possible before Thorin recovered enough to object, if he wished to do so. Kili wrote occasionally, reporting on the progress of the mission. However, as his letters were to pass through official channels, he sent no news of his personal affairs, besides some vague allusions as to everyone being very kind. From these unsatisfying scraps, Fili judged that both the mission and his brother’s courtship were going well.
So it came as a shock when Thorin, now fully recovered, received a cryptic letter from Ori a mere five weeks later. He said that they were returning immediately. According to the letter, they would be in Erebor two to three days from the time of receipt of the letter.
Fili was enjoying a rare moment of peace in his chamber, watching the rain pelt down the mountainside, when the messenger came. The company from Mirkwood was back! His friends asked that he come at once to Kili’s room, so he immediately set off to find them.
He was surprised to find Bofur and Ori outside the closed doors of the room. Bofur looked solemn, and Ori dejected.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Did the talks go badly? Do not tell me you offended Thranduil so much that he is on his way here with an army, even as we speak!”
Neither dwarf even cracked a smile. “It’s Kili,” said Ori tremulously. “He was fine before, but a few days ago he came back looking like someone had died. I asked him what was wrong, but he wouldn’t tell me!”
Bofur nodded. “Aye, since then he’s been about as chipper as a chicken in the rain. It got pretty clear we weren’t going to get any further with the talks, so we decided we had better come back.”
“Do you have any idea what the matter is?” Worry spiked Fili’s words.
Ori hesitated and looked to Bofur. A wordless exchange occurred between them.
“Go on, tell me!”
“We thought it might be a lady,” said Bofur reluctantly. “He was spending a lot of time with one of the Elvish captains when we were there. He was with her right before he came back upset.”
Fili didn’t wait to hear any more. Not bothering to knock, he shoved the door open and made his way into Kili’s room. The door slammed shut behind him.
The first thing he saw was Kili crumpled in a heap on his bed, back facing Fili, his face buried in a pillow. He completely ignored Fili’s noisy entrance. The sight of him so small and broken was Fili’s undoing. Climbing up onto the bed next to his prostrate brother, he took him into his arms, hugging him tightly.
Kili let out a muffled noise of protest, but then collapsed against him, flat out sobbing now. Gently, Fili rubbed circles into the younger dwarf’s back until he began to calm down. His heart was aching, love and agony mingled with vile contempt for himself, for his inability to protect his little brother from the world and everything in it that sought to hurt him.
Finally, Kili turned to look at him, his eyes bloodshot and watery. Fili squeezed his hand. “What happened, brother?”
“Tauriel rejected me,” said Kili quietly. “I confessed my love to her, told her she was my One. She told me it was impossible.” He swallowed. “She said that she has had a partner; he is waiting in the Halls of Mandos. Elves do not marry twice. Also, she told me that while she enjoys my company and values my friendship, I am so much younger than her that in terms of romance, she looks upon me almost as a child.”
The misery in Kili’s voice made Fili burn with indignation. A staunch denial was half-formed on his lips before he caught himself. The elf was probably right. It sounded as though she had been kind enough, but he hated her nonetheless for hurting Kili. On the other hand, he was grateful to her because this rejection opened up a whole new world of possibilities for himself.
They sat there for some time, resting against the headboard, holding each other close and listening to the pitter-patter against Kili’s window. Fili looked down at his brother, who was lying on top of him. Despite the physical discomfort of having Kili’s full, warm weight on him, he almost wished that they could remain like this forever.
“I love you.” The sound of his own voice shocked him. What was he doing? Surely he could not have picked a worse time! But the fresh hope he’d just received had turned his world upside down. The words he’d been holding back for so long had simply torn past his defences, ripping them apart. He couldn’t seem to stop them gushing out. “Kili, I think… I think you’re my One.”
Kili’s breathing hitched, his body going rigid in Fili’s arms. “But Tauriel is my one. I- I don’t understand.”
He sounded so tired, so confused, that Fili wanted to take it all back. He would wait another decade, ten decades, an entire lifetime if he had to, if only he could banish that lost expression from his brother’s face.
It was too bad that option was closed to him. He could only wait, quivering with anticipation, dread, love, longing… every emotion that had wrung him inside out for the past several decades.
Kili was still shaking his head, bewildered. “I don’t understand. A dwarf does not have two Ones- that’s why it’s called a One, for heaven’s sake- and Tauriel is my one! Unless-”
He broke off midsentence. After several long moments, he turned to Fili. It took the elder some time to recognize the emotion in his face, simply because he’d never had it directed to him before, not from Kili.
It was anger. Pure, white-hot, blazing fury.
“How dare you?” Kili spat, a world of hurt and confusion behind the vitriol. “You know that Tauriel is my one, and you- you are mocking me!”
“Kili, no! That’s not-“
But Kili was too caught up in his own anguish to listen. Pushing Fili away, he struggled to his feet, his movements quick and jerky. “I know I will never be her equal, I am not worthy of her, but is it not enough that she has rejected me? How could you stoop so low, brother?”
Fili was completely dumbfounded, unable to even find the words to speak in his own defence.
Without him realising it, his silence had confirmed Kili’s accusation. His brother was white with pain, eyes stinging with the betrayal.
“I loved you,” whispered Kili, his shoulders sagging. His use of the past tense was like a slap to Fili’s cheek. “You meant the world to me, brother, you were everything. I don’t know why you are being so deliberately cruel!- but I will not stay and listen to more.”
With that, he turned and left the room, but not before Fili caught a glimpse of the fresh, hot tears spilling down his brother’s cheeks.
Fili wanted to run after him, shake him until he saw sense, but his limbs suddenly felt as though they were made of lead. Instead he stayed where he was, eyes screwed tightly shut against the image of Kili’s face painted with hurt and hatred. The scene was etched into his mind. He could no more have removed it than he could have gouged out his own brain.
To see the raw agony in his brother’s eyes, knowing that he put it there- it was all he could do to stop himself from screaming. He wrapped his arms around himself, so tightly that his nails dug into his flesh, trying to hold the pieces of himself together by brute force.
Kili did not return.
He did not know how long he lay there in silence, but at the end of it, he knew there was no way he could stay in Erebor any longer. Not with Kili there, hating him.
Within the hour, he was riding out through the gateway under the Mountain. He rode hard, ignoring the sharp lashings of rain against his unprotected skin. Indeed, he barely noticed the rain, too caught up in the turmoil of his own mind.
He didn’t know how long he had been riding, but the rain had long since stopped and he was under the eaves of Mirkwood by the time he realised that he had no inkling where he was going. He had made no plans, followed no route. He’d simply thrown a few essentials into his old pack, scribbled a note to Thorin, and left. In hindsight, perhaps that had been a tad foolish.
Running away again? The voice in the back of his head taunted him. Weak, weak, always weak. Small wonder that Kili hates you.
The memory cut into him- not the clean stab of a knife, but sharp, jagged edges like a chainsaw, rubbing back and forth against his frayed nerves, while the voice laughed at him.
Foolish dwarf! Did you really think that you could win him as easily as that? He cares nothing for you any longer. You brought it upon yourself.
“No…” he gasped, not caring that he was talking to himself like a madman. “Please, please stop… please, I can’t take it any more!”
The voice in his head ignored his pleas, continuing to jeer at him, until Fili, out of sheer desperation, clapped his hands over his ears and slammed his lids shut so that he couldn’t see the forest path ahead of him.
Because of that, he didn’t react when a low, thick tree branch loomed up before him. The impact swept him clean off his pony onto the forest floor. His head slammed against something hard, and he knew no more.
When he came round, at first he noticed nothing but the dull throbbing at the side of his head. After some time, however, he heard light movements about him, accompanied by lilting, musical voices. His eyelids felt as though they had been glued shut, but nonetheless he managed to pry them open.
He was surrounded by elves. Well, two elves to be precise.
“Ai, he is finally awake!” One of them, a dark-haired male, came over to him, smiling. “Are you well? It seems you took a tumble off your pony. He is sorry, by the way, but he says it was not his fault and you should have known to duck!”
The elf’s merry words came as a surprise to Fili, whose limited experience with elves had left him with the impression that all elves were rather serious and otherworldly.
“You can talk to my pony?” He asked.
“Certainly, I can talk to all horses!” boasted the elf. “That is why I am named horse-lord in our tongue.”
“Ignore him, Master Dwarf,” another voice joined in. Fili blinked. Either he was hallucinating, or the second elf looked exactly the same as the first. “Elrohir here can be somewhat cocky. And you, Ro, were named long before our parents knew what you were like, so you are clearly talking nonsense.”
The first elf grinned, not at all put out. “At least my name infers that I have skills, dearest brother. It must have been a sad tragedy indeed when Ada looked upon you and realised that you had no talents more striking than being a mannish Elf.”
Their banter put Fili in mind of the old days, when he and Kili laughed and teased each other in the same way. Firmly, he forced the thought down.
“Fili, at your service. Though it seems I should be thanking you for yours instead!”
“Indeed, though I am sure your services would be very helpful nonetheless,” said Elrohir, smiling. “You need not thank me, however, it was Elladan who tended to your wounds, not me. I merely caught your pony.”
“Then I am doubly grateful.”
Elladan waved aside his thanks. “You were lucky that we were passing and heard him neighing. He had not left your side. A worthy beast indeed.”
“That he is. I am sorry to have delayed you both. I will be on my way at once, and not trouble you any longer.”
For the first time, Elrohir’s smile faded. “You should not be travelling alone in your condition. We will accompany you for a time at least, if we may. Pray tell, where are you headed?”
Fili winced. “I’m afraid I haven’t a very clear idea where I’m going. I sort of… took off.”
Elladan’s keen eyes assessed him. “If you have no plans, you would be welcome to join us. We have been visiting Taur-nu-Fuin- Mirkwood, you probably know it as- but are now returning to Rivendell.”
“Rivendell!” The exclamation left Fili’s lips before he could catch it. Unbidden, the memory of tall encircling mountains, crashing waterfalls and soft Elvish melodies in the twilight came back to him. He suddenly longed for the peace of that hidden valley. Recalling his manners, he answered, “I would be honoured to partake in your travels.”
Several weeks passed, and Fili found himself still in Imladris. He had no desire to leave. The peace that hung thick as leaves in the hidden valley brought him a measure of tranquillity that he had not felt for an age.
Upon their arrival, he had been stunned to find that his two rescuers were the sons of Lord Elrond himself. Elrond, fortunately, had not blown his cover by announcing him as the nephew of Thorin Oakenshield, and heir to the throne of Erebor.
Nonetheless, even in the valley he could not wholly forget. Nightmares plagued him at first, so that one of the twins heard him screaming in his sleep and came to investigate. After that, Elrond had begun to give him regular draughts of a potion for dreamless sleep. It would not be effective for long, Fili was warned, but it would help him heal for now.
He spent his days mostly alone, training with his weapons, reading in the library or wandering in the lovely gardens. Occasionally, Elladan or Elrohir accompanied him, but this was not often as they were busy with their many duties. In the evenings, he sat in the Hall of Fire and distracted himself with elvish tales. All in all, he was as content as could be expected. He knew he would have to return eventually, but he pushed that thought to the back of his mind, to be dealt with another day.
Therefore, when a message from Lord Elrond came one day, telling him that a dwarf from Erebor had arrived and sought to speak to him, he was reluctant. It must be a messenger from Thorin. He had written his uncle when he first arrived, explaining matters and requesting not to go back just yet. He supposed that Thorin must have grown tired of waiting for his return.
By now, he was fairly familiar with the layout of Imladris, and was able to find his destination without an escort. He was stunned to see Kili waiting for him. Every memory, good and bad, rushed back to him, including that of their last meeting. Remembering the hatred in Kili’s eyes then, Fili shrank back, afraid to see it again in reality.
But Kili ran to him, throwing his arms around him as he had when they were younger, burying his face in Fili’s shoulder.
“Oh Mahal, Fili,” he murmured brokenly. “I’m so sorry for everything! I’ve been a complete and utter bastard, it would serve me right if you hated me for the rest of my life.”
Fili stood still and silent as a rock, afraid to believe. He had been mistaken too many times now. But there was no mistaking Kili’s next words, muffled though they were.
“I love you. If I said it a thousand times, still it wouldn’t be enough! I’ve been such a fool, brother. I thought I was in love with Tauriel. I thought she was my one, but it was you all along, it was always you. I’m sorry I didn’t realise it sooner.”
Fili stared blankly, only half-comprehending. “I don’t understand.”
Kili moved backwards a fraction, enough to meet Fili’s gaze squarely. “You are my one. There’s nothing else to understand, except that I was an idiot! I thought that simply being attracted to someone for their looks, brains or character meant that I was in love. Tauriel was beautiful, clever and independent, and I thought it must be true love. It hurt when she refused me, but if I’m being honest it was as much my pride hurting as everything else. I love you, brother, not her, and not anyone else.”
Those words were what Fili had always dreamt of hearing. He wanted so badly to believe. To let go, allow Kili’s love to plug the holes in his heart and make him whole again. Yet now that his dream was becoming reality, he stood unmoving, arms stiff by his side, fists clenched.
Kili tilted his head back and looked at him questioningly. “Fili? Say something, please.” His voice dropped low, rough with emotion. “Say you forgive me.”
“I can’t.” Fili ground out. He was aware that he was rocking back and forth, like a leaf being tossed about by the wind. “I’m sorry.”
He chanced a glance at Kili, who was all bewilderment and distress and guilt. “I know I’ve behaved like scum, brother, and I would deserve it if you knocked me into next week! Uncle gave me a proper dressing-down for it. But I swear I will do my best to make it up to you. Hit me, punch me, beat me up if you must, but please give me a chance!”
It took every ounce of strength Fili had left to get out his next words. “I can’t. I want to believe you, Kili, I really do, but I can’t take that risk.”
His voice, which had started out strong, began to tremble, losing some of its power. He had to force himself to continue. “If you… if you change your mind again, if you leave… I don’t know if I could survive a second time. Call me a coward, if you wish, but I can’t go through this again.”
He could hear the heartbreak in Kili’s response. “Oh Fili… How badly have I hurt you, brother?”
Fili shrugged and didn’t answer, but a new steely determination seemed to seep into Kili’s voice.
“It’s all right. You don’t have to reciprocate, but it won’t stop me loving you. It won’t change the fact that you’re my One. Please don’t send me away; grant me that at least.”
Fili’s nod was barely perceptible. He didn’t trust himself to speak. He felt as though he was lost in some strange, wayward dream, which would shatter to pieces instantly if he so much as breathed too loudly.
Kili was as good as his word. He asked for and was granted permission by Lord Elrond to stay, and was even given a room next to Fili.
Fili no longer spent his days alone. Kili was always there now, an unusually quiet shadow of his normal vivacious self, as though he was trying to blend into the background. However, he never failed to be present unless ordered away. In the beginning, it felt strange to Fili to have his brother close by all the time. He grew swiftly accustomed though, and the part of himself that always seemed missing when Kili was gone was restored to him in full force.
One day approximately two weeks after Kili’s arrival, Elrond pulled Fili aside and told him that it was time to stop the potion, for it would cause nasty side effects otherwise.
The combination of Kili’s presence and the loss of the sleeping potion brought everything back. Fili often woke up screaming, in the throes of a nightmare, drops of sweat clinging to his forehead and Kili’s name on his lips. After a few days, however, he began to wake up automatically whenever the dream was about to turn, before he could lose himself in a full-on nightmare. Generally, he awoke to loud clanging in Kili’s room next door, and wondered what it was. Although they had begun to talk a bit by this time, albeit with a stilted politeness nowhere near the familiarity they were used to, he still didn’t quite like to ask.
One afternoon, he and Kili took a walk in the grounds of Rivendell. In the bright sunlight, Fili noticed with surprise and an unexpected stab of concern that Kili looked worn out. His eyes were bleary, ringed with dark circles and swollen underneath, and he kept yawning widely.
Unable to maintain his usual detachment, Fili asked, “Are you ill, brother? Have you not been sleeping well?”
Surprise flashed across Kili’s face, and the corners of his lips began to lift. “I am perfectly well, Fili.” He punctuated his statement with a huge, jaw-cracking yawn. “Just… just sleepy.”
A sudden suspicion darted into Fili’s mind. Somehow, the little pieces of jigsaw bothering him just clicked- Kili’s sleepiness, the unholy racket coming from his brother’s room at odd hours during the night, his own uncanny and newly discovered ability to wake up in the early stages of his nightmares.
He decided to test out his theory.
When bedtime came, he snuffed out the candle, went to bed and lay down to wait. Nothing happened for the first couple of hours, and he was beginning to think he must have been mistaken, when his room door clicked open. Soft feet padded across the room, close by to him judging from the noise. He didn’t dare to open his eyes to check in case he scared the person away, so he waited in silence for a good long while.
All right, Fili, time to show off your acting talents.
He began to toss about restlessly in bed, eyes still shut. After some time, he decided to up his game, sprinkling a few soft, theatrical moans and whimpers in between.
Almost at once he heard the creaking of floorboards, as though the person had gotten up. Footsteps moved away from him, and the door clicked shut. His eyes flew open.
Not a minute later, a loud, banging noise came from the next room, followed by a metallic crash. It sounded as though its occupant had caught up all the hard objects in the room and was throwing them at the dividing wall.
Fili rose from his bed, quickly exiting the room into the corridor. As he suspected, the god-awful noise was coming from Kili’s bedroom. Knowing that Kili couldn’t hear him over the racket, he twisted the doorknob and entered.
He stopped, staring.
The dark-haired dwarf crouched on the floor. Before him was a set of toy drums. Kili was going at it on the drums, beating them as hard as ever he could. Fili cleared his throat, but the noise was far too loud for Kili to hear him. Hell, Fili couldn’t even hear himself.
“KILI!” he shouted.
The noise stopped. Kili looked up distractedly. “What?” His mouth fell open when he saw Fili. His gaze dropped to the drums in front of him. “Oh.”
”What on earth are you doing?”
Kili’s voice was practically a squeak. “I… uh… I borrowed this. It used to belong to Lord Elladan. I... It’s all that time I’ve been spending in the Hall of Fire, I think I was inspired.”
Fili wanted to roar with laughter, but he kept his face stern. “I admire your devotion, but could you perhaps pick a better time to practise?”
Kili’s face was bright red. “I’m sorry if I woke you. I… it seems inspiration strikes at odd hours.”
“Well, since you’re inspired and I’m awake anyway, could you play a song for me?”
The glance Kili cast at his drums was desperate. His arms flailed about helplessly. “Well, I…” He looked up, and was faced with Fili’s widest, shit-eating grin. “You know! You piece of cow dung, you- you troll!”
“Ouch, brother, that wounds me deeply.”
If looks could kill… The next moment, however, Kili’s glare faded, and he dissolved into laughter.
“I heard you coming into my room earlier,” Fili confessed, growing serious. “Why?” He had meant it as a straight-up question. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help the thread of uncertainty that was woven through his words.
Kili looked as though this was the last thing in the world he wanted to talk about, but he did anyway. “I heard you screaming the first few nights. It was terrifying, I never dreamt- well, anyway, I asked Lord Elrond if there was anything I could do. He said that if you could somehow wake up before the nightmares reached their peak, it would help.”
He swallowed. “So I came up with this plan. I spoke to Elladan and Elrohir, and borrowed this from them. I’ve been sneaking into your room every night, and well- you know the rest.”
Fili’s heart felt as though it was about to burst. “Oh, Kili. There was no need for that- look how weary you have made yourself.”
“There was every need,” countered Kili, his voice soft but firm. “Besides, all this is my fault. I have hurt you again and again and again. I had to try to make amends, and this was the only way I knew how.”
His gaze dropped down to his feet, and when he looked back up, his expression was almost shy. “But even if this did not involve me, was nothing to do with me, I would have done the same again. I hate to see you suffering, brother.”
Fili’s eyes widened, shocked at the depth of love shining in those brown eyes he had once known even better than his own. This did not go unnoticed by Kili. The younger dwarf’s face softened, a hint of hope growing in him. He reached out a hand, caressing Fili’s cheek in one of the affectionate gestures that came so naturally to him.
“Everything became clear when you left,” he explained. “With you gone, I finally understood what it meant to truly lose my One. There was no room for pride or anything else then, nothing but emptiness, as though you’d taken everything with you. I felt as though all the stars had gone out, or else that I had gone blind. I was in the darkness on my own. Without you there was no way out, but you were so far away, I could not find you! And I believed you must hate me, for I deserved no better. I’ve never longed for death so hard before.”
Icy fingers gripped his heart, upon hearing Kili’s words. The thought of a world without Kili in it was incomprehensible, impossible. Unable to stop himself, he shuffled forward practically into Kili’s arms, which closed round him. Fili could smell his unique scent, a mixture of fresh earth after the rain and molten metal from the forge. It was so familiar, so comfortable that he automatically relaxed, leaning into Kili’s touch.
“What happened then?” he asked, voice ragged. “How did you come to be here?”
“I went to Thorin and told him everything. He was so angry, he threatened to put me across his knee and let me feel the flat of his sword! Though he was relieved as well, I think. But he would not tell me where you were. He said he had no right to do that, but there was nothing to prevent me looking. So I did. I spent weeks travelling from place to place, asking for news of you. By chance, I ran into some Elves from Rivendell one day, who said that there was a dwarf here. You cannot know how relieved I was to find you at last!”
The tale made Fili feel incredibly guilty. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you a proper welcome.”
Kili nuzzled the back of his neck. The gesture was ridiculously endearing. “It was better than I deserved.”
“No it wasn’t, it was my fault you reacted that way to begin with, I have the worst timing in the world! But when you came, I was too afraid to let you in. I’ve become such a coward-“
Kili cuffed him lightly. “Stop it! Stop apologizing. Stop blaming yourself for everything! When are you going to realise you don’t have to be perfect all the time, Fili?”
The words were spoken crossly, but they were belied by Kili’s tender, conciliatory touch on the place he had just struck.
“Probably never,” admitted Fili. “I suppose it’s just as well you’re here to remind me.”
He felt Kili’s hands freeze against his skin. Slowly, Kili drew back and looked him full in the face. Nervousness exuded from every inch of the younger dwarf’s body.
“Do you mean that?” And Fili knew the other wasn’t just talking about the here and now.
He nodded. This time the gesture was firm and sure. “More than anything else. I want you with me always, two halves of a whole. As we were meant to be.”
Kili held him reverently, as though he was afraid he would break. Fili smiled at his cautiousness. Taking his brother into his arms, he did what he had longed to for so many years- kissed him slowly, lips lingering on the sweet curves of Kili’s mouth. Kili responded, and in that moment they melded together, fused so tightly that the old hurts and wounds in each heart were filled completely by the other’s presence, binding them eternally.
Fili had never felt more alive.