Hobbit 1. Lost

So. Here it is, all dramatic and angsty and sad.  
>But it will get better, I promise—it will be a HEA.<p>

A huge HUGE thank you to the reader who caught and pointed out the error in uploading the first draft. Super appreciated!

"We were set upon. They came from nowhere, and we were over run."

Dwalin steps back, his expression full of regret, unable to look Thorin in the eye as he recounts the attack that came from nowhere and cost them more than they'd ever imagined when they'd stepped out to hunt in the early morning light in the woods surrounding Erebor. Dwalin reassumes his place with the rest of the company, his gaze set on the stone floor.

Though the arkenstone glitters over his head, though they have reclaimed everything they set out to find, Thorin looks stricken and pale at Dwalin's pronouncement of what has happened in the woods. Had he not been held up with the meetings with the ambassadors of the Iron Hills, he would have been with them-may have been able to stop this. The question of _why_there were orcs in the woods bordering their lands lies silent, uncomfortable, over the vast room. The guilt is palpable on his face, edging into the mask he has worn as king since they reclaimed these lands. Kili can see it, and it brings him little comfort.

The throne room is eerily quiet, like a storm gathering on the horizon about to break, as the youngest prince steps forward.

His wrists are red and bloodied, rubbed raw from struggling against the bonds they were forced to use to bring him back here. His sanity hangs by threads.

Thorin can see it from the throne as Kili kneels before him, the ritual of coming before his king the only thing keeping the edges of his horror down, scrapped knees throbbing against the cold stone. Thorin's chest aches for his young, wild nephew, his eyes coal black and glistening with unshed tears as he looks to the throne. Kili can see his pity, can feel himself breaking, feel those tiny threads of sanity slipping away.

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse with desperation barely kept in check.

"Please. He is still alive. We must go back."

There are disbelieving mutterings from the other dwarves, gathered just behind him, looking exhausted, bruised and bloodied.

Kili rounds on them with a fury that startles even Thorin, shaking with rage,

"There was NO body. That means he is not dead."

"If he was taken...well, he'd wish he was dead. The things an orc pack would do with him...and the heir of Durin...I wouldn't go back out there."

"And if they don't eat him..."

He cannot breathe. His chest constricts, the thought of his brother, his strong, beautiful older brother in pain ripping through him. And they won't _shut up_, won't allow him even a single moment to collect himself, to re-string those delicate stitches that have barely held his bleeding heart in place since he lost sight of Fili sometime during the battle (and how did that even happen? They are connected, like one, his bow balancing out Fili's twin blades, Fili's strength the counterweight to his grace). Blackness edges his vision, and Kili sucks in a deep, shuddering breath, the rush of air not quite enough to stop the words that come next.

"Sometimes orcs like to...play with their food."

And Kili is screaming, screaming to wake the dead, and once he starts, he cannot stop.

It is unclear who has spoken, but Thorin rises and barely catches Kili by the back of the shirt as he lunges for the dwarves gathered behind him, sword half drawn though he has never been as skilled at using it as his brother. He does not really want to kill these dwarves who have raised him, taught him everything he knows, challenged and strengthened him, but if it means stopping the barrage of images of Fili's pain, he will. His allegiance lies with his brother. Always. Kili is breathing heavily against his chest, but gives easily as Thorin gathers him in his arms, guided by the memory of another time.

He cannot stop shaking.

There is guilt, ever present, for the things he's never told Fili, for those dark, dark secrets he keeps hidden in his chest. A secret love, that makes him feel bubbly and effervescent on those rare days when Fili's smile lights up his world, and deep and black on others, when his desire overtakes him, sometimes making him physically ill. He bears it silently, says nothing to his brother, because it is his burden to bear, and he has not been able to change it, even over all the years they've spent together. He feels as though all the light in the world has been extinguished, as though he will never find his way back from this.

Looking into Thorin's eyes as he looks down at him, Kili thinks maybe it is true.

"Bring me something to calm him!"

Kili draws comfort from the fact that his uncle's voice is steady, his fear held in check by years of practice, only edged with the mania Kili cannot quite control. Oin hurries forward, offering a small vial carved with the symbols of Rivendell.

It is a sign of his fear that Thorin makes no comment on the Elvish origins of the medication before placing it to Kili's chapped lips. His lower lip is split and swollen, and Thorin winces as the liquid spills into the cut. Kili doesn't seem to notice, numbed by loss and desperation and the thought of spending the rest of his life without his older brother.

The effects are nearly immediate. Kili swallows, looking suddenly too young, too innocent, helpless and lost, and immediately collapses into a sleep that does not look quite restful in Thorin's arms.

"I will go. I will find your brother."

Thorin assures him, quiet, definitive. His eyes raise to the rest of the company, daring any of them to challenge him,

"And you will all come with me."

Reviews are love! (And quicker updates!)


	2. Breathe

A second chapter! Hooray! This one is much longer—I wanted to split it into two, but there was no way to do that without being a horrible cliffie, so…

/SwM/

They ride hard.

It does not matter, darkness is falling when the reach the scene of the attack.

A heavily wooded section of the road, with hills rising into the distance on either side.

The ground is littered with the leaves of an autumn that seems to have come too early-has it really been a year since they reclaimed Erebor?-and the ground runs thick with the black blood of the orc pack.

Thorin can tell just by looking that the company did everything in their power to protect his heir.

There is no sign of Fili, though.

Kili's screams echo in his mind, his nephew's pain worse than the gold-sickness ever was, and

Thorin swallows hard against the ebbing pain in his chest.

"Start looking! We do not leave this place until we find some trace of him."

He can sense the unease in the other dwarves, can feel their desire to turn back to the warmth of the mountain halls and away from the horror of this massacre site, but they say nothing. They dare not question the futility of their king's mission. He silently thanks Mahal for that.

The night is cold, frost forming on the bark of the trees that stand proudly over them.

The air is crisp and cold, clean in a way that Thorin thinks his youngest nephew may never be again, and it seems somehow unjust that the world should continue just as it always has when one of the lights in it has gone out. The forest rises high into the distance, obscured shadows under the moonlight, and Thorin considers tracking the orc pack. Most of them lie dead on the road before him, making it difficult to follow them at all, and they have brought no supplies with them. It would be a suicide mission at very best.

Stars twinkle overhead, and Thorin thinks of Kili's pronouncement of the starlight as cold and far away in Mirkwood.

It has never felt colder.

His breath is coming in clouds in front of him and they have spread out across the road, wandering from one another as their search becomes more and more futile.

Vaguely, Thorin wonders how long the Elven sleeping potion will last.

He hopes Kili rests, for beneath the frozen starlight, his hope is fading.

Balin's hand comes to rest on his forearm,

"Thorin. Perhaps...perhaps it is time to let him go."

His fingernails are bloody from lifting branches, bits of forest that could hide Fili's form, and there are tears in Balin's eyes, haunted by memories of the young, golden haired prince. Thorin's breath catches in his chest, hitching at the nameless fear that follows,

"I do not...I do not think I can. Kili..."

Balin nods, his eyes closing, fingers gripping tighter into the thick cloth of Thorin's cloak.

"We will place him under watch. No harm will come to him."

"He will die without his brother! Perhaps not today, but losing Fili...they are two halves of the same soul, Balin."

Balin shakes his head sadly, his boots scuffing against the frozen mud,

"I know, Thorin."

They ride back in bitter, wrenching silence.

The sun is coming up over the hills behind them as they enter the gates of Erebor.

/

When Kili wakes, he is curled into the masses of furs and blankets on the bed he and Fili have shared since returning to Erebor, anything else feeling too claustrophobic and unnatural to them. Fili has never asked why Kili does not want his own bed, his own quarters-and some nights, when they are both drunk and stupid and arguing with each other for the millionth time that day, Kili wonders why-but mostly they simply co-exist, transcendent, separate parts of the same whole. For a small moment, his brother's scent on the sheets is soothing, and the last vestiges of sleep ebb at the edges of his mind, before he remembers, and his world evaporates again.

His screams bring the guards running in a panic.

His howls of anguish when he realizes he is chained to the wall for his own safety, prisoner in his brother's memory, bring the healers.

It is his silence, his refusal to speak, eat, or even breathe, however, that brings his uncle.

Thorin's presence does little to take the edge off of his pain, but at least he is familiar, strong and noble, those traits that Fili had inherited and Kili has never quite managed to live up to. His fingernails cut bloody half-moons into the king's arms,

"Tell me you found him. Please...please..."

Thorin shakes his head, settling his frame on the bed,

"Kili...we looked. We searched, for hours."

Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, Kili can see the bloody shreds of Thorin's fingers, can see the exhaustion written in his eyes, but he does not quite believe that his brother has not returned.

"I would have them track the orcs, sister-son, but I cannot. Too few live, it would be near impossible to find the trail, and they have a head start that we could not overrun."

Kili knows Thorin is being sensible, making the right (sane) call, but it does not stop his eyes from welling with tears. The space beneath his ribs feels hollow, and Thorin cannot meet his gaze,

"Then please...let me go."

Thorin presses a gentle hand to Kili's hair, knowing he does not mean simply undoing the chains that keep him confined to this room.

"I cannot, Kili. You are heir now. This pain will pass, I promise you. You will know joy again one day."

Kili is vicious, his words sharp edged and laced with anger, knowing even as he spits them out that Thorin does not deserve them.

"And what would you know of it, uncle? You do not speak to me as kin, you speak to me as king. You put this kingdom before your family."

Thorin winces, memories of his own brother finding their way to the surface of his mind, and it is only the desperate madness in Kili's eyes that keeps him from snarling words of hate and misery at his nephew. He stands, regal and imposing even in his towering anger, and storms towards the door, blue eyes flashing.

"Do not presume to know my feelings, Kili."

And Kili wants to let the memories, the secrets, bleed out of him, to confess to his uncle all the things that he's never been able to put words to around his brother-and they've never seemed as stupid as they do now, laughably insignificant when Kili thinks about never seeing Fili's smile again-because nothing has ever been as simple with Fili as he has wanted it to be.

"I will not rule without him. I will not live without him."

Kili's voice shakes, but the strength behind his words is true. It is enough to make Thorin pause in his exit, swallowing back his own tears,

"I hope, for your own sake, you change your mind,

/

The girl is plainly human.

That is Thorin's only thought as she bows to him,dressed in travelling clothes that have clearly seen better days. His mind is caught up elsewhere, back in the chamber with his nephew whose grief has seeped like the damp chill of winter into his bones.

Dwalin stands at attention to his right, temporarily taking Kili's place, but the captain of the guard looks vaguely uncomfortable standing in a place that is not his own.

"Speak!"

The guard who brought the girl in orders, giving her a shove towards the throne. Balin stands behind him, a small smile on his face, and Thorin cannot fathom his small happiness.

The girl blinks up at him, her huge green eyes wide and frightened. He tries to smile, tries to reassure her (and what _possible _reason could this guard have for bringing this human girl, barely more than a child, before him?), but his muscles feel atrophied, and he grimaces instead. The girl stammers, fear evident in her voice, and Thorin wishes he could offer some reassurance-she suddenly seems so young.

"W-we...we d-didn't know, my l-lord. We j-just...h-h-he needed a h-healer!"

There is a pause, and Thorin's heart is suddenly in his throat, the tiniest spark of hope burning through his chest. He almost wishes it down, for fear that his greatest hope is not true.

"What? Who is HE?"

The girl is startled by his sudden energy and jumps, shrinking back into herself, her eyes welling with tears, and Thorin curses himself.

"Th-the p-p-prince. O-only...we didn't know."

Thorin's eyes flick to the guard standing over her. He shrugs,

"Figured you'd want ta hear what the lass had to say, sire."

Thorin is, for possibly the first time in his life, rendered speechless. It is Balin who steps forward, bowing, with a twinkle in his eye,

"Fili lives, Thorin. He was found by a group of travelling merchants, before we even got there, but he...was in bad shape. They took him to Dale."

Thorin's chest clutches,

"And now?"

Balin grins outright,

"The healers will meet them at the gate."

/

Kili is high.

Higher than he's ever been, drifting in a state between misery and unknowingness. It is almost enough to take the edges off the pain that has left him breathless for so many days. The drugs are Elvish in origin, of that he is sure. Whether Thorin knows about the doses the healers have been administering, he isn't.

He feels cold, chilled so deeply that he feels he may never be warm again.

He does not sleep, does not eat.

Kili allows himself to be swallowed whole by the grief that swims through his veins.

He exists, but he does not live. He does not want to live.

And eventually, he is certain, the drugs will wear off, and he will die from his broken heart.

Sometimes, feverish imaginings enter his muddled brain, images of his brother, alive, laughing, sharing a mug of ale with him, or a glass of sweet wine, late at night by the fire. His smile, lit up because some small thing has gone right. His quiet strength that has always kept Kili grounded, firm and undeniable beneath his easy smile and gently mannerisms. Now Kili finds himself drifting, off in space, and he wonders if this is what his life would have been without his brother. Groundless, without purpose.

Lost.

When he wakes, there is always that small, anxious moment of sweet pleasure before reality takes over and he _remembers. _

His dreams are filled with Fili's presence, his soft whispers and reassuring touches.

Kili would give anything to make it real.

Kili does not turn when Thorin enters his room, though he senses that the energy his uncle brings is different.

"Unchain him."

The words are soft, and there is something tender there. Kili's mind moves as fast as the drugs will allow it, scouring the room for something with which he might end his own suffering.

Thorin's hands are strong on his shoulders, and his eyes are filled with an inexplicable happiness that makes Kili feel as though the floor has fallen away from beneath his feet.

"They found him."

Kili's mind is slow to process the words, still searching the room. Thorin grips his shoulders tighter, the sudden, sharp shock of pain bringing his drifting mind back to reality,

"Fili lives, Kili."

And Kili's eyes are filled with tears (how can his uncle be so _cruel_ as to tell him these lies?), but Thorin simply unbinds his wrists gently with the key offered by the guard,

"I will take you to him."

But Kili has not eaten in days, has not slept for what feels like weeks, his mind sluggish and muddled with Elvish drugs, and he collapses against Thorin's chest, a merciful blackness overtaking him.

/

Warmth.

That is the first thing Kili registers as the blissful unconsciousness fades away.

He clings to it, not wanting the warmth that has seeped into his chest, into his body and his soul to slip away.

He blinks slowly, carefully, waiting for the moment that the feeling of Fili's body next to his to end abruptly, for the horror of it all to come crashing down on him again.

But it doesn't.

He is nestled, carefully placed, on the edge of a bed in the healer's chambers, stark and white, and Fili's body rests beside him, as warm and alive as he's ever been.

There are bandages wrapped tightly around his chest, lines of red peeking through, and his face is pale and white, shadows ghostly beneath his closed eyes, but he is breathing. His golden hair has fallen loose from its braids and is splayed messily across the pillow (as if his sleep has been restless, though he lies quiet now), and Kili thinks that he has never been quite so beautiful.

Relief swims through him.

Kili sits bolt upright, shock dissipating the remainder of the sluggishness in his mind.

Thorin is dozing in the armchair next to the bed, his head leaning at a precariously uncomfortable angle, and Kili's sudden intake of breath jerks him back to wakefulness.

Kili is in Thorin's arms before Thorin can react, his laughter a beautiful melody,

"Thank you. Mahal, thank you. H-he...he..."

"He's going to be okay." 

And Kili is crying, suddenly overtaken by the return of his brother, sobbing with relief. Thorin smooths his tangled hair, habit from when he was small, and Kili thinks that maybe nothing has ever felt so _good. _Thorin's gaze drifts to Fili, who sleeps undisturbed despite the noise (years of practice, Thorin wonders, or exhaustion pure and simple?), and Kili tumbles from his embrace, carefully making his way back to the bed, his fingers tracing over his brother's still form.

"You let him sleep, Kili, or I'll be the death of you myself."

Oin appears in the doorway, the twinkle in his eye enough to give away the gruffness of his tone. He carries a platter, filled with bread and butter and stew that steams, and Kili is suddenly overtaken by his hunger.

Oin is thoughtful, placing the tray on the bed so that Kili will not have to be separated from his brother for a single second (as if he would have left his side), and Kili devours a piece of bread in three bites, thinking that perhaps nothing has ever been quite so delicious.

The relief of Fili's presence, even if he is not awake, even if Kili cannot quite bring himself to share the love he has harboured for his older brother since he was old enough to understand that kind of bond, is so strong that Kili feels as though he can breath for the first time in his life.

Thorin watches him thoughtfully from the chair, leaning forward to take a biscuit from the tray. Kili flushes under the weight of his uncle's gaze, slowly withdrawing the hand that has been tracing over Fili's hand and up his arm, over smooth muscle and callouses and scars that Kili can recount every single one of his injuries from. Over the fluttering pulse in his wrist where Kili wants to lay his fingers and never move, so he'll always know Fili's heart still beats.

"Kili..."

There is weight behind the way Thorin says his name, a desire to ask the question he will not put breath to, but Kili shakes his head. How can he possibly voice his desire for Fili to his uncle after all that has happened? He can see the pieces falling into place in Thorin's mind-and he has always been so good at hiding this, so good at being Fili's goofy, happy little brother, the one no one had to worry about, strangely close and caring, but his brother none the less-but he can tell that his reaction to Fili's absence has made Thorin observe them with new scrutiny.

Thorin stands, exhaustion apparent in his eyes. He ruffles Kili's hair, his gaze passing fondly over Fili's sleeping form,

"I'd best get to my own bed. It's late...early..."

Kili wonders how long he has been sitting there, how long he has been asleep. Thorin's eyes meet his, full of kindness and relief and all the things that Kili ever wants to see in the eyes of his family, and he smiles.

"You are so loved, _muhudel. _And your brother..._kidhuzel..._nothing could ever change that."

Thorin departs without another word, but there is a gentleness to his tone that makes Kili think maybe he knows more than he is letting on. The use of their Khuzdul nicknames from childhood is a sweet candy in his mind.

The distance he imposes on himself as king makes it hard to know for sure, and Kili dares not read any hope into it, but Thorin's unspoken approval is a nice thought, one that drifts into the wispy edges of his consciousness as he slowly drifts back to sleep, curled against Fili's side where he belongs.

/

Review, review, review! Fili will be awake in the next chapter…


	3. Awaken

Well. Things are about to get interesting. Introducing Fili? (Or at least bringing him back to consciousness?).

Reviews=love.

/SwM/

Fingers weave through his hair, gently pulling Kili back towards wakefullness.

"_Nadadith..._"

For a small, uncertain moment, Kili feels sick from the touch, squeezing his eyes shut against reality, not wanting the image of his brother his convoluted brain has conjured to dissipate into reality. Fili hums, softly, so smooth and gentle under his breath, coaxing Kili awake.

And Kili is suddenly awake, and his smile is blinding.

His dream has remained a reality, and Kili wonders how many days he will wake up with this fear, if it will ever go away. In all their years, Kili has never really considered the fact that they will die one day. It always seemed so far away, such a distant future. Now it seems too present to forget.

"Fee..."

There are tears in his eyes, unbidden, and Fili's expression is troubled by this realization, pulling Kili as close as he can manage-avoiding the bandages at all cost-gently setting his younger brother into the crook of his neck,

"Oh _nadadith..._"

Kili says nothing, simply breaths in his brother's scent, rich and clean, antiseptic from the poultice Oin has left on his chest burying usual leather and woodsmoke and warmth, letting his strength seep into his bones. He wonders how long Fili has been awake, if Thorin has been to see him yet, when his brother will be able to move-at least back to their own chambers, the sight of so much suffering these past days-but Kili is unsure whether he should laugh or cry, so he simply tries to breathe.

Fili presses a kiss to his tangled mess of hair-when was the last time Kili had a bath?-trying not to imagine his brother's pain in his absence. It is all too apparent from the shadows, like bruises, beneath his dark eyes, the rubbed raw marks on both of his wrists (and Fili has heard of dwarven folk needing to be restrained to keep from hurting themselves, but he has never imagined his baby brother that desperate), and Fili feels sick at his brother's anguish.

Kili smells like tears and sweat and something sweet, almost alcohol but not quite, and Fili wonders what the healers had been giving him. He wishes that the wounds in his chest didn't constrict, bolts of pain and fire, every time he moved. He wishes he could take Kili and bathe him like he used to when Kili was younger, because he knows Kili will not leave his side-and knowing this makes Fili's heart ache in the most delicious way, the way that lets him be possessive of the dark haired dwarf who should not matter to him in this way, and yet...

"Thought I lost you."

Kili's breath is a whisper against Fili's neck, and Fili fights not to shiver at the warmth. Instead, he places his hand in Kili's, squeezing hard, something that could almost be mistaken for more (and Fili half wishes he was brave enough to tell Kili, isn't being near death supposed to make things like this easier?).

"Right here, Kee. Right here, _nadadith._ Not going anywhere."

There is something protective and fierce in Fili's voice that Kili can't quite place, something that makes his stomach flip with butterflies.

Oin chooses that exact moment to walk into the room, jolting Kili abruptly from Fili's body (and he doesn't miss the way that the sudden movement makes Fili wince), leaving Kili just this side of breathless, his pupils just-too-dilated for the light in the room.

Oin smiles at them both,

"Good morning, lads. I need to change Fili's dressing. Kili, I'll teach you how...it's about time the two of you got out of here. Bloody nuisances."

There is a fondness in his tone, and Kili grins,

"We can go...today?"

Granted, they are only moving down the hall, out of the healer's chambers and into their own, but the look on Kili's face says it all.  
>Oin nods, helping Fili to sit up with gentle hands. Fili grimaces, hands clenching involuntarily in the sheets, and Kili is immediately at his side,<p>

"Shhh, _nadad."_

Fili can't help it, the pain is _so _bad, and he has missed Kili _so _much, he simply turns into his brother's body, his cheek resting against Kili's chest (and has his little brother always been this _hot? _He is throwing off heat like the furnaces that burn bright in the forges below), his fingernails leaving marks down Kili's back that have him arching inadvertently into Fili-because that shouldn't be as attractive as it is, shouldn't make Kili's mind spin out with a thousand dirty fantasies of Fili's hands on him just like _that. _

It is a moment of weakness-Fili is normally much more reserved with his touches around Kili, because he wants to protect his brother from the confusing mass of emotions and attraction, lust, desire, love, that swirls in the depths of his heart-but Kili's response makes Fili want to touch him and keep touching him and never stop.

The moment passes, fleeting, as Oin begins to instruct Kili on re-bandaging his wounds, and Kili listens with a stillness and attentiveness Fili didn't know he possessed.

"There ye be, laddie. Twice a day, now."

Kili's grin is megawhatt, and Fili smiles wanely, looking pale and shakey from the pain. Kili immediately sets about helping him up, and Oin smiles,

"You know, Kili, if you change your mind about heading the guard...there could be a very rewarding career in healing for you. You have a natural touch."

"Nah, he's my brother. I've had too many years of practice for this to count."

It's not entirely true, and Kili's smile is easy, but Fili knows he would never accept a position here. He will stand as Fili's captain of the guard when the time comes for Fili to rule, standing next to his brother as both the next-of-kin and fiercest protector of his king. In Fili's darkest fantasies, he is also the royal consort, ruby laden rings binding them formally together glittering on opposite fingers.

Kili's arm tightening around his hip as he helps him up produces a flash of intense pain that takes Fili's mind away from _that _image.

"Oh, Oin?"  
>Fili tenses at the false innocence in Kili's tone, waiting for whatever outrageous, mischievous thing is going to come out of his brother's mouth-years of knowing him so completely have made Fili hyper-aware of every nuance of his tone and body, even if he can't quite predict what his wicked little brother is planning.<p>

Oin doesn't seem to notice,

"What is it, Kili?"

"He can take a bath, right?"

Oin nods,

"So long as his wounds aren't submerged, of course. In fact, laddie, you both look as if you could do with a bath."

Kili's eyes light up, and Fili has the sinking feeling that they will be heading for the secluded royal bath, rather than their chambers. Kili is up to _something, _but Fili can't quite piece together what it is.

/

Kili's mind is racing with a hundred different thoughts-whether this is really a good idea, whether risking everything is worth it, what the _hell _is going on in Fili's pretty blond head as he watches Kili with wary eyes-but he helps Fili settle in a chair at the edge of the smoothed hot spring pool. Fili tries to keep his face impassive as Kili lifts his tunic over his head, revealing the bandages beneath.

Kili's hands shake as he begins to unbind Fili's ribs, and Fili wonders _why, _until Kili's fingertips brush across his skin, and fire rushes through his body, an electric spark that Kili obviously feels too, because he pulls back and looks up at Fili with dark eyes that are filled with curiousity and questions.

"Tell me if I'm hurting you."

His voice is low, raw and husky, and it makes Fili shiver. There is a seriousness to Kili now that he hasn't seen before-and perhaps it is simply the fact that Kili is taking _care _ of him, something Fili has never allowed. Kili is his little brother, something precious, worth protecting, always. He is also the center of Fili's world, with his cheeky words and happy-go-lucky smile, but Kili doesn't know that. There are so many secrets Fili keeps...

Kili's fingers brush over his ribs again, and Fili jumps, wincing at the burn that follows.

Kili's hand is automatic, pressing down on his shoulder, keeping him still,

"Shh...just one more."

Fili struggles not to press up against Kili's hand as he unwinds the last of the bandage (and is it from the pain, or the delicious shocks of electricity that come from Kili's fingers against his bare skin?).

Kili's eyes are haunted as he takes in Fili's wounds. Deep, cherry red, the beginnings of infection that Oin has just barely caught in time, and dark, crimson and black blood where he was stabbed. They are shocking and prominent against his pale skin, worse in the semi-darkness of the bath.

"Kili..."

Fili tries to distract him, tries to pull his brother's gaze from his ribboned chest, but to no avail. Kili's hand hovers over his heart, not touching, not giving any indication that he will touch, but Fili can feel the heat all the same. The stab wound begins an inch to the right of his heart,

"Any closer..."

"And I'd be dead. Good thing orcs don't have a very good sense of dwarf anatomy, I 'spose."

He attempts to lift Kili's mood, but the joke falls totally flat. Kili just stares up at him with dark, bottomless eyes, filled with an emotion that Fili can't quite place,

"What happened, Fee?"

_The wood is quieter than it should be._

_They all notice it, though no one breathes a word. _

_Dwalin heads the company, scouting ahead. Many of the same dwarves who helped to reclaim Erebor choose to follow him, even now. Thorin's absence is noticable, and sometimes Fili wonders if his uncle misses the freedom of being a king without a kingdom._

_Mist rises over the path in front of them. Kili is toying idly with his bow, the best hunter of all of them, given his range, and Fili feels a flash of pride in his brother's skill. They exchange a small smile, intimate in a way that no one else has ever understood._

_Then all hell breaks loose._

_The orcs appear as if from nowhere, skittering down the banks, screeching their inhuman howls and screams. _

_They have picked the perfect place for an ambush-the trail is narrow, the walls banking it are too high to climb, and there is no choice but to fight._

_Kili fires first, taking out two orcs with one arrow, and Fili wonders if anyone else is as impressed with his brother as he is. _

_Then the orcs are on them, Kili's bow is useless, and Fili is pulling double duty to compensate for his little brother's lack of skill with a sword._

_Kili can defend himself, but he is better with a bow, and they both know it. He fights best from the edges, an irony, considering the way that he is at the center of just about everything else. _

_Kili doesn't notice the goblin, nasty creature, smaller than the orcs but no less dangerous, creeping down the edge of the path behind him._

_Fili does, but it is too late to shout, too late to allow Kili to try to defend himself._

_The sudden fear that Fili feels at the thought of his brother being hurt (killed) sends enough adrenaline racing through his veins to get him there, and he beheads the goblin just as it is reaching for Kili's hair._

_And then Fili feels cold, so cold he can barely move, breathless as he falls beneath the trampling feet of the orc pack._

_Kili's back is turned, he doesn't see it happen-though he momentarily stutters, and Fili thinks that maybe they are connected more deeply than they have ever imagined, and Fili makes no sound at all, lest he distract his beautiful brother, who has fire and fear in his eyes as he cuts down orc after orc._

_Then he is falling, falling and bleeding, and he realizes that the warmth is spilling from his own body-did one of the orcs manage to _stab _him?-and he is shocked, but he was distracted by his weakness: his little brother._

_Fili is unconscious as Dwalin calls for them to retreat, his body has tumbled between the tree roots of a thick oak tree, down the embankment and onto the wider road below that men use to transport their goods into the city of Dale. _

_He does not hear Kili's screams of anguish, does not bear witness to the way his brother fights against Dwalin (giving him a split lip and bruised ribs before Oin steps in to sedate him). He does not watch as they bind Kili, who is screaming for him and fighting them every step of the way._

You happened, Fili thinks, but does not say it.

Instead, his eyes are dark as his fingers come to brush across the marks on Kili's wrists. He doesn't need to voice his question.

"They put me under watch. I...would not rule without you, brother, but Thorin insisted on his heir being kept alive."

Fili's stomach flips, but Kili continues, even as his fingers trace slowly up his arm,

"They gave me something. Something elvish. I couldn't...I just felt nothing, Fee. I'm okay."

But Fili can see that he is not, can see the devastation in his eyes, and he wants to fix this so desperately.

He leans forward, pressing his forehead to Kili's, pulling him into his arms, gingerly avoiding the wounds put there by his desperation of the past.

Kili sighs softly, spice and sweet and freshness-a familiarity that Fili knows is more than brotherly-and Fili tries not to fall into the fantasy of brushing their lips together.

But then Kili opens his eyes, dark, mirthless, looking so suddenly _adult, _so dominant and hungry, and Fili can't stop the shudder that runs through his entire body, his pupils blowing.

Kili catches this, catches the hitch in his breath, and a wicked smirk appears on his face (was _this _his plan all along? Fili suddenly feels terribly guilty).

But Kili does not lean forward to bring their lips together.

Instead, he helps Fili over to the edge of the pool, settling him in the shallows of the warm water, keeping his wounds far from the water.

The torches on the walls cast everything in a warm, honeyed light, and everything is shimmering with steam and sweet light, including Fili. Kili cannot take his eyes off his brother.

The waterfall that drifts into the pool of cold, refreshing water nearby is the only sound.

They have spent countless afternoons here, splashing in the pools like dwarflings, play-fighting and sparring on the smooth decks. Sometimes, after a particularly long hunt, they simply relax in the warm water, but Kili does not often have the patience for that.

Thorin has scolded them on more than one occasion for the mess they have left behind.

And then Kili is pulling off his dirty clothes, peeling his shirt over his stomach and chest, muscles rippling, and it's everything Fili can do not to moan. When Kili is finished undressing, he kneels in front of Fili in the warm water, looking up at him with something just a little darker than innocence, and Fili's hand comes forward unbidden to cup his jaw, his thumb tracing over Kili's high cheekbone.

Kili leans into the touch, never taking his eyes off Fili's, and presses a gentle kiss to the palm of Fili's hand.

There are so many things congesting this moment, so many memories, so many questions. So much desire. It is the perfect storm, one that has been building for their entire lives, a delicate dance and balance that they have managed to maintain for _so _long.

It is too much and not enough at once, and Fili's voice is pure gravel when he speaks,

"Kee..."

Kili bites his lip, abusing the full flesh between his teeth, and Fili is utterly lost, his hand tangling in Kili's dark hair, pulling him forwards and bringing their lips together.

It is chaste, merely the slow brush of lips together, and yet it contains the weight of the entire world, leaving them both utterly wrecked and breathless.

Fili's eyes are so dilated that the blue is a thin ring around overwhelming desire, and looking at the lust, the love, the desperation, written plainly in his little brother's eyes, he leans forward, ignoring the burn of his ribs, and pulls Kili closer, using the hand tangled in his dark waves as leverage. Kili rewards him with a breathless gasp at the sudden movement.

When Fili brings his mouth back to Kili's, he can taste the fear on his tongue.

It is heartbreaking, though not entirely unexpected, and Fili can feel the possesiveness in Kili as he fists his hands in Fili's hair, tugging almost to the point of pain to bring him closer. He breaks the kiss, pressing his mouth to Kili's neck, biting down, bruisingly hard, and Kili gasps and arches into him (Fili never imagined Kili would be so _responsive_, and it leaves him achingly hard).

"Not going anywhere, Kee. Still here."

He murmurs the words softly, gently, against Kili's skin, a reassurance as his tongue soothes the sting of his teeth.

They kiss for what feels like hours, sitting there on the edge of the bath, and it still is not enough.

Fili wonders if it will ever _be _enough, or if his brother will be forever haunted by the fear that he is gone. He hopes not.

He wants the beautiful, reckless dwarf he has been in love with his entire life to have his mischievous, carefree smile that can light up Fili's entire world to stay that way.

He wants to protect him, to be certain no harm comes to him, forever.

Kili simply laces their fingers together, and hums contentedly, swirling his tongue with Fili's.

It is a perfect moment.

/SwM/

What do you think of Fili?


End file.
