Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Surviving

“Fili.”

The golden-haired Dwarf prince paused in checking over his gear and turned to face his dark-haired mother who stood in the doorway to the room he shared with his brother.

“Yes, Amad?”

She entered the room and briefly cast her eyes over his things. “So you’re all set then?”

He nodded. “I think so. And I think Kili’s ready, too. At least I hope so. He told me he’d finished packing, but you know how he is.”

“I do indeed.” Dis sat down on part of his bed that wasn’t occupied by her son’s many knives. “I’ve already talked to him, told him to watch himself and listen to you and Thorin…”

“But you know he won’t.” Fili gave his mother a knowing smile. “Kili’s never been one to take a step back and think things through.”

“I worry more about putting himself in harm’s way to impress Thorin. He promised me he wouldn’t, but he’s reckless.” She reached out and took his hand. “I know you both want to prove yourselves worthy to be on this quest.” She squeezed. “Please be careful. Maybe it’s not very Dwarven to say, but as your mother, I would rather you cut your losses and return to me, than give your lives for a lost cause.”

“Amad,” Fili squeezed back. “You know what this quest means to Unc-to Thorin.” Fili reminded himself he had to start calling him by name from now on.

“Hang the blasted quest!” Dis snapped. “You’re my sons. You’re all I have left; you two and my thick-headed brother. I know there’s no changing Thorin’s mind once he sets it to something as important as Erebor, and I don’t want to discourage him, but, my golden dwarrow, I cannot lose you and Kili.”

“I’ll make sure we both stay safe, I promise.”

Dis stood and cupped her elder son’s face in her hands, bringing their foreheads together in a gentle bump. “See that you do. Look after your brother, Fili. And look after yourself.”

“I will, Amad.”

==========

“I’ve got this.”

Fili hefted his sword in his hand as he sent his brother off to scout the lower levels of Ravenhill, knowing he would find nothing. Knowing, that for now, his brother would be safe. Kili obeyed him without question, just as he always had, just as Fili knew he would, because Kili always trusted his big brother to keep him safe. In his heart, Fili felt he had failed in that task. No one but him noticed that Kili still favored his right leg, still limped when he thought no one was looking, still moved a bit slower than he usually did.

Fili wasn’t going to fail again. He would keep Kili safe and make sure his baby brother kept his promise to their mother.

He moved to the stairs as soon as Kili was out of sight, running up them as quietly as he could as he stayed on high alert for any signs of danger. It was quiet; too quiet. He thought he could almost hear his heart pounding in his chest. In his head he could hear his mother’s voice - Look after yourself - and it almost made him want to turn around and run after Kili to safety, but they were so close, so close to destroying Azog the Defiler once and for all. With him gone, they could finally go home. His mother could be a proper princess again. Thorin would be king. Kili would be safe. They could live in peace without the fear of being hunted.

He had to do this.

The glow of firelight stopped him dead in his tracks as he turned to continue down the corridor, but rather than warmth, it chilled him to his bones. This was a bad idea. He was outnumbered; he couldn’t fight his way through this and win. He needed to find Kili and get them both out of there and back to Thorin before things got worse.

He turned to go back the way he’d come only to stop dead in his tracks as firelight licked the walls down that passage, too. Trying not to panic, he whipped his head back and forth looking for a way out, only to be faced with cold, stone walls.

He was trapped.

The orcs set upon him like flies and his battle-honed instincts took over as he swung his sword, decapitating the first couple that came into view. He had a slight advantage in that the passage was narrow and they could only come at him a few at a time, but as their numbers were great and relentless, he began to tire from fighting on two fronts. A lucky blow to his hand sent his sword flying, the blade bouncing off the wall and dropping to the ground. The few throwing knives he had already lay embedded in the skulls of the first few orcs he had taken down, now buried under the bodies of more of the fallen creatures.

Weaponless, Fili resorted to his fists in a desperate attempt to fight his way to freedom. Another blow caught him on the left temple and he felt a warm trickle run down his face, even as the force of it knocked him face-first to the ground. Dazed as he was, and trying to shake off the throbbing in his head, Fili frowned. The orcs chittered and screeched around him as he pushed himself to his elbows and tried to get a knee under him. They should be moving in for the kill and ripping him to pieces by now, unless…

His vision cleared and he looked up into the face of the Pale Orc.

Azog growled low and guttural as he picked Fili up by the back of the neck, tugging sharply on his hair. He spat words at him in the harsh language of the orcs that Fili didn’t understand, but knew meant nothing good. The cold realization that he was going to die settled in the pit of his stomach, and as Azog dragged him along the passage, higher and higher, he tried to comfort himself with the fact that at least Kili was safe.

Fili stumbled as the orc that was at least twice his size hauled him roughly up the stone stairs, and as his knees scraped the ground, the stubbornness of his race to be subdued by another surfaced, and he struggled in the white orc’s grip, trying to break free. Azog’s claws dug into his neck, and he was lifted up as if he was nothing more than the ragdoll that Bard’s little daughter Tilda liked so much, before Azog backhanded him hard across the face. Dazed and with his head throbbing, Fili tried to shake off the blow as the large orc continued to drag him towards the edge of the landing. From below he heard the orcs’ war drums boom - once, twice, then in quick succession - and Azog’s grip shifted to his tunic.

He dangled uselessly in the orc’s grip while a dozen thoughts raced through his head. Kili. Kili had to be safe. He promised their mother. Well, one out of two promises kept wasn’t so bad, right? Down below, across the frozen river, he saw Thorin, flanked on either side by Dwalin, and Bilbo Baggins of all creatures. Good. Their Hobbit was alive; he would make sure Thorin and Kili made it through this day safely.

“Go!” Fili shouted, to Kili, to Thorin and Bilbo and Dwalin. He had to make sure they would be safe. But Thorin was shaking his head in stunned denial, and Bilbo seemed frozen where he stood. He couldn’t see Kili anywhere. They had to leave!

“RUN!!!” he screamed at them.

Pain lanced along his spine and exploded along his back before he even had time to gasp, and the last thing he knew before it all stopped was that he was falling.

==========

He was falling and he wanted to scream, but his voice felt locked in his throat and the only sound he was able to emit was nothing more than a pitiful wheeze.

“Fili!”

His arms flailed and one of them connected with something solid and warm, and his eyes snapped open even as he held on for dear life. He met wide brown eyes as he looked up at his brother’s face, framed by a shadowed leafy canopy that danced in the crackling flames of their small campfire. Slowly, Fili willed his breathing to even out.

“Kili…”

“I’m here, Fee. It’s okay. You dozed off, and I guess you had a bad dream.”

Fili sat up and scrubbed his hands over his face, groaning slightly. “I guess I did.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kili was lying back down again, his fingers fiddling with something in his hand.

“I’m not sure how to describe it. Some of it’s already fading. The last thing I remember before you woke me was falling. I think it was from a tower, I couldn’t see very clearly.” He grabbed a long stick and stirred the embers of their fire up a bit more, watching the flames leap up.

Kili propped his head up on one arm. “Well, don’t think too much on it, brother, it was just a dream. Go back to sleep.”

Fili looked over at him hesitantly before letting out a tired sigh and laying back on his bedroll. The dark-haired prince flopped on his back, tossing what looked like a pebble into the air and catching it again effortlessly. Fili watched him, letting the motions of the stone and Kili’s hand soothe his frayed nerves. Now and then he caught a flash of blue.

“What is that anyway?” he asked.

“What, this?” Kili held up the stone towards the firelight so Fili could see, and the other noted the runes carved into it. “Amad gave me this. Said it was a good luck charm to protect me, and to remind me that she would be waiting for me to come home.” He smiled a bit wistfully. “I miss her.”

“We’ve only been on the road three days, Kee.” Fili’s blue eyes watched his brother. “I miss her, too, though.” He yawned.

“Here.” Kili pressed the stone into his hand. “Maybe it’ll keep the bad dreams away for the rest of the night.”

Fili softened as he leaned in and touched his head to his brother’s.

“One of us should keep watch.”

“We’re on the borders of the Shire. Ranger territory. Nothing’s going to harm us here. Besides, we’ve got a long day of travel tomorrow if we want to reach the burglar’s house by nightfall, so it’s best to rest now.” Kili replied. “You know if we get there later than Uncle-”

“We need to start calling him Thorin now, Kee.”

Kili let out an impatient sigh. “If we get there later than Thorin, we’re both dead.”

==========

Dead.

He should be dead.

But he doubted the journey to Mahal’s Halls of Waiting was accompanied by the shocks of pain that set his nerves from his head to his feet on fire. He also doubted it was supposed to be cold. He groaned, or tried to, but his throat felt like he had swallowed sand though he could taste traces of copper in his mouth. The pain coursing through him kept him from wanting to move his limbs. In fact, the only part of him that didn’t hurt at the moment were his eyes, and after squeezing them tight for a second, he started to crack them open.

Somewhere around him, something clattered noisily to the ground, and he winced as someone shouted.

“He’s breathing! Get a healer over here! NOW!”

He tried to focus through the haze of pain which seemed to start from his back and the back of his head, but even that sent of new waves of pain through him, that threatened to pull him under again.

“Fili!” Someone was calling his name now. That was his name, right? “FILI!” Yes, it sounded right. It had to be. He tried to focus his half-opened eyes on the speaker, the light hurting him too much for him to want to open them all the way. “Fili, stay with us, lad!”

He saw grey. There was a lot of grey. Was he slipping back under? Again he tried to make some sound to anchor him in the present moment, but all that came out was a soft wheeze, and it brought with it a memory of a time that felt so long ago now - of lying under trees around a campfire, with someone he knew he held dear to his heart. He remembered grasping a warm arm, and as if triggered by the memory, his own hand moved.

“K… K…” His throat was too parched for him to get anything more than a sound out.

“Keep still, lad. Keep still.” This voice was old. Familiar, but not the one he’d been hoping to hear. “Here, you! Fetch Gandalf! Durin’s Beard, this is hope unlooked for. Hold on for us, dear lad. Hold on. I’ve got you.” Something cold and wet trickled into his mouth and moistened his throat, even as he heard the voice mutter, “Wish we had proper water; the snow will have t’do for now. Where’s that blasted Wizard.”

He coughed as he tried to swallow, and then let out a weak cry of pain. He wasn’t sure how much more of it he could stand as he lay… wherever it was. He didn’t remember. Something warm covered him from above, even as the ground beneath him remained cold and just a little sticky, though he wasn’t sure with what.

“Oin!”

“About bloody time you got here, Wizard,” the voice beside him said. Oin. He knew that name. It was family, but not the name he wanted to hear. “Help him. He’s barely holding on.”

There was a shuffling of footsteps and he tried to turn his head to see who had come, only to have pain shoot through his skull sharp enough to give voice to another agonized cry.

“I cannot treat him here. I don’t have anything to stabilize him with, let alone the tools to start patching him up,” Oin’s voice was saying. “We need to get him out of the cold, or he’ll freeze to death before I can so much as put in a stitch.”

“Keep him still.” There was a power and warmth to this new voice that he just knew belonged to no Dwarf, and through his pain-hazed eyes he saw a white glow. “Much of my power was spent, but I will do what I can.” A warm hand was laid on his brow and the pain reduced to a dull ache though he still couldn’t move much. He heard whispering, but couldn’t make out the words. “Fili,” the voice called him, and his vision cleared a little more for him to look up into a pair of bright blue eyes. “Yes, that’s it, young prince. Come back to us.”

He wanted to follow that voice wherever it went. It made the pain go away and that was just fine in his book. The warmth spread from the hand, through his head and down his body till he felt as if he were cocooned in a blanket like he used to be when he was a baby asleep in his mother’s arms.

Sleep. That sounded nice. His eyes started to close again.

“Fili!” That was Oin’s voice.

“No!” the other voice was commanding. “Let him. We cannot move him otherwise.”

Sleep. Yes, that was something that didn’t hurt, so he let himself drift off, and as he did so, he remembered eyes again. Only these were not bright blue, but a warm brown.

==========

Chapter Text

The warmth of the hobbit’s home was comforting, Fili thought as he lay on his bedroll by the living room fireplace, staring up at the brown rafters that matched the color of his brother’s eyes that were currently watching him in a little bit of concern.

“Afraid of more nightmares?” Kili asked. “Didn’t the stone help at all?”

Fili managed a smile. “It helped. No, I was just thinking-”

“Careful, don’t hurt yourself.” Kili chuckled as Fili swatted him on the arm.

“Ass. I was merely thinking about the quest, that’s all. And of Amad back home - if she’ll be okay with us gone for so long.”

“We’ve been away from home before.”

“Yes, but never this long, and…” Fili trailed off, not really wanting to state what might happen if they did encounter a live dragon.

Kili nudged him. “Hey, don’t worry so much. We’ll be fine. We have Gandalf with us, and if anyone can take on a dragon, it’s him. Plus, we’ve got the burglar as our secret weapon.”

“That’s even if he decides to join us. I heard Dori say that he declined to come along.”

The dark-haired prince settled further into his bedroll. “Oh, he’ll come.”

“How do you know?”

“I have a good feeling about him.” Kili started to close his eyes. “Now get some sleep. We’re off at first light, and you’ll be better for the rest when you wake.”

==========

When he woke again, he no longer felt the icy snow under his back. Instead, he felt the slightly roughened fabric of a sheet. His eyes, though heavy, opened a bit easier this time, and though he still ached, at least he could move his hands and feet without needing to scream in agony. He suspected the use of at least a little bit of magic in addition to whatever healing potion Oin had poured down his throat and used on his wounds. The fact that he remembered Oin and what he did for a living when not out questing made him relax a little more.

He blinked as his eyes opened all the way and took in the dull amber color of the tent canopy over his head. Healing tents then, and day time. He wondered what day it was. He was considering turning his head to look around for someone to talk to when he heard the tent flap open and felt a cold gust of winter breeze blow through that made him shiver despite the thick, coarse blanket that lay over him. The involuntary movement made him groan as he felt stitches on his back pull.

“Oh! Careful. Don’t move too much, you’ll break the stitches.”

As he tried to place where he’d heard that young female voice before, a face came into view - pale under the streaks of dirt, grey-eyed, and framed with curls the color of wheat, much like his own, and with no trace of beard to speak of.

“Sigrid?” his voice sounded rougher than he’d like.

She let out a soft gasp. “You… remember?”

“I… uhh… I suppose I do.”

“Oh, Fili…” Then she snapped to attention. “What am I doing? Oh dear, please. Stay still. I must fetch Mister Oin. He said to send for him as soon as you’d woken. Don’t move!”

“Sigrid, I…”

But she was gone. He sighed in frustration and forced himself to be still when all he wanted was to get up and find out what had happened while he was unconscious; his brother, his uncle, his friends. What had become of them? And why was Bard’s eldest child in a camp of Dwarves? He needed answers.

Cold breeze and a heavy tread told him Oin had entered the tent and he opened his mouth to speak.

“Not a word.” Oin silenced him with a water skin to his lips. “Drink.”

He looked to protest, but was met with raised eyebrows that dared him to challenge the order. He was weighing his options about coming out victorious in a battle of wills with the old healer, when soft, long-fingered hands cradled and gently raised his head.

“There.” The girl moved like a cat, he thought. “That should make it easier to swallow.” How had he not even heard her come back in?

“Thank you, my lady Sigrid,” Oin replied. “I’m afraid he was about to be stubborn.”

He gave the healer a sullen look as he finally started to drink whatever concoction was in the skin. Admittedly, it soothed his dry throat and seemed to put some strength into him, so that he felt a little better when Sigrid laid his head back down and smoothed his hair back. He tried not to blush too much at the attention.

“I’m familiar with stubborn all too well, Mister Oin,” Sigrid was saying. “Have you met my father?” There was a note of exasperation in her voice. “He’s refusing to rest. He’s barely eaten, and he’s worked off his feet, but he’s refusing to acknowledge that.” It was quickly followed by sudden enlightenment. “I don’t suppose you have anything for sleep?”

Oin chuckled. “I do as a matter of fact.” He heard the healer rummage in his pouch and saw him press a small packet into the girl’s hand. “Infuse some tea with that once it’s night time. He’ll be out like a babe.”

“Thank you, Master Healer.” Sigrid appeared beside him again with a small smile gracing her features. “I must go and see to my sister, but I’ll come back to visit…” she glanced up at Oin. “Tomorrow perhaps?”

He couldn’t read the expression on her face as she glanced at the old dwarf, then back at him. “Of course,” he nodded. “I would like that.”

“Farewell, then, for now.” And she was gone again.

He sighed.

“She’s a good lass.” Oin started to check him over. “Been very helpful in keeping an eye on you. How does your head feel?”

“Like Dwalin hit me with his war-hammer. Repeatedly,” he replied. “Why is she here and not with her own people?”

“That’s to be expected, and that’s something you’ll have to ask her, won’t you?” Oin produced a needle from his pocket that the prince eyed with some trepidation. “Now, I’m just going to give you a few light pricks here and there. Just say ‘yes’ if you feel it, alright, lad?”

“What is this for?”

“I need to check your nerves, make sure there’s no damage to your spinal cord.” A pained look pinched Oin’s features. “That orc-filth ran you through, missed your spine by mere inches. He threw you from the tower; y’hurt your back when you landed, and hit your head as well. Y’should’ve died, lad.” He laid a gentle hand on the younger dwarf’s arm.

His expression darkened. “I remember Azog stabbing me in the back, and then falling.” He looked at Oin. “So why didn’t I?”

“Who knows? Perhaps you’re lucky the snow’d built up, and you landed on that instead of the stone. At the least, the snow slowed the bleeding from the knife wound, otherwise you’d have bled out long before anyone found you.”

“What about-”

“Now, just tell me when you feel something, alright?” He relented and let the old healer do what he needed to, Oin finishing the exam shortly after, nodding. “Good lad. Now, drink this and sleep so I can dress your wounds without causing you too much pain.”

As much as he wanted to stay awake and ask more questions, the thought of being in more pain again was enough to make him drink the tea Oin put to his lips without any protest. The potion took effect almost immediately and as he slipped back under, the old healer turned away to mix some crushed herbs with water. He breathed in deeply when a fresh, wholesome scent filled the air and the last thing he remembered before falling asleep again was that he had smelled this scent before.

==========

The fresh scent seemed to give new life to his tired body and cleared his head, and lingered in the wrecked house even after the elf had finished binding his brother’s leg, now poison-free and on its way to healing. For that at the very least he was grateful. He looked around him then. Bard’s children still looked shaken, but it seemed the scent had calmed them enough to take some action. The older girl, Sigrid if he recalled her name right, immediately went to what remained of their kitchen to salvage what food she could find.

“I'm going to keep watch outside,” the boy, Bain, announced and was out the door before anyone could stop him.

“I'll keep an eye on him,” Bofur said, and followed him out.

Only the little one was left, and she looked worriedly to where the elf still tended his brother. Probably still a bit scared, Fili thought, but given how she'd thrown that plate at the orc’s head and helped hold Kili down at the height of his sickness, he knew she had a strength inside her. He was about to go to her, when Oin called her over.

“Here, little one, why don't you help me pack up these herbs.”

She immediately scampered over to the healer. “My name’s Tilda,” she told him before getting to work.

Left to himself for the moment, he went to his brother’s side. “How is he?”

The copper-haired elf turned to look at him. If they both realized she’d been gently stroking the youngest dwarf’s cheek, neither said anything about it. “Sleeping. The poison took its toll before I was able to remove it.”

“Thank you for that.”

“You two are very close.” Her hand still kept hold of his brother’s, Fili noticed.

He tried not to think of how they were going to explain this to Thorin. Given the way he was at the moment, he doubted it would end well, and he dreaded to think of what his very impulsive and passionate brother would do when told he was forbidden from something. The last time, Thorin had forbidden him to enter the forest at the foot of the Blue Mountains - something about Dwarves being stone, not wood - and Kili had spent three nights camping in the forest just to show Thorin he could, before their mother had stepped in to cool their fiery tempers. If Thorin forbid him from contact with the elf, Kili might well go down in history as the first Dwarf to ever elope with one.

“Fili?” the elf in question called his name softly. “Fili, are you alright?”

He couldn’t keep calling her ‘the elf’, that was just impolite, so he tried to remember if he’d heard her name at some point. The rude, fair-haired one had called her something. “Your name is Tauriel?”

The barest hint of a smile graced her lips. “That’s right. It means ‘daughter of the forest’ in my language.”

“It’s a nice name, as far as elf names go,” Fili replied with a small smile of his own. There was no need to be unkind to the person who’d just saved his brother’s life, and his ancestors’ grudges were not his own.

“I thank you.” In the next instant, her smile faded as she snapped her head about and looked around sharply at something he could not see. When she turned her attention back to him, her face was grave. “We cannot stay here. I fear all may not have gone well at the mountain.”

“You can hear that far?” he asked incredulously.

“No,” she admitted. “But I sense something approaches. Something terrible. We must gather the children and your friends and leave as soon as we can.”

“The dragon?” Tauriel’s silence was enough to confirm his fears. “How long do we have?”

“Not long.” She gave up her hold on Kili. “Wake him, and make sure he eats something. I will try and see what I can, but I fear it will be nothing good.”

Then she was gone, leaving him holding his brother’s hand, and that was where Sigrid found him, trying to wake his sleeping sibling.

“It must be bad if you’re waking him,” she said.

“Aye.” Fili shook Kili’s shoulder and tried to coax him upright as he fought through the haze of the sleep he’d been under. “We must go, all of us. Though I doubt we’ll get far on foot.”

“We have a boat,” Sigrid informed him.

“Then we’d best start loading it. Only with what we need, mind. Food, water, blankets. We must travel light to move faster.”

The girl gave him a small smile. “Do you often go round giving orders?” she asked.

He returned her smile. “Only when there’s no one else around to do it.”

==========

Chapter Text

Once again, there was no one around in the tent when he woke up - feeling considerably better than the previous two times - but in the fading light of the day, he could make out two distinctly Dwarven shapes in an animated discussion outside. Oin and Balin then. Snatches of their conversation came to his ears with the breeze that wafted in - still cold - every once in a while, and he strained to listen.

“ … on the mend… can’t push him…”

“ … needs to know… dark forever… all there is…”

“ … not ready… could relapse… Dain…”

“Does not… wants to… Iron Hills… winter…”

He frowned, realizing that he was probably the topic of this discussion. It puzzled him as to why Balin was here when he should have been… what? He thought back to the day at Ravenhill and it still annoyed him that he had no idea what day it was, or how long it had been since the battle had ended. He remembered looking down at three faces - Thorin, Dwalin, Bilbo - and realized he hadn’t seen them since then, not to mention the one face he longed to see above all else.

Oin had not spoken of them either, the last time he’d been in here.

Flexing his arms, he carefully started to raise himself on his elbows, hoping his body was strong enough to support his weight. He could still feel the stitches in his back pull, though not as strongly as before, and he felt light-headed - mostly from lack of food, he guessed - but he was able to push himself to sit up. He coughed, wincing when the movement jarred his still-battered body and was almost tempted to get up all the way and get himself some water.

“You're up!”

He jumped where he sat. Honestly, that girl had to be taking lessons from the Elves, the way she was able to move so quietly.

“Uh, yes, and feeling considerably better, I might add.”

“I am glad to hear it, Master Dwarf. Your friends will be relieved to hear you're on the mend.”

His brows raised. “We’re back to that are we? Do I need to be gravely injured for you to call me Fili again, Sigrid?”

That brought a light blush to her cheeks that made him grin. “Very well then, Fili.” She made it a point to emphasize his name. “Can I get you anything?”

“Some water would be nice. After that can you sit with me a while and tell me of what has happened since the battle ended? I don't even know how long I've been out, and I am rather anxious to know what has become of my Company… and my family.”

He saw her hands falter on the pitcher as she poured a cup of water for him and brought it back to his bedside. “Thank you,” he said as she pulled up a stool and sat beside him. “So, how long?”

Her eyes grew sad as she fingered a stitch on the rough blanket. “Five days, since you were found on Ravenhill. You woke briefly on the third day.”

“I remember a bit. You asked Oin for sleep herbs for your father. Did it work?”

“It did, actually. Even had some leftover for Bain. They were out like lights in minutes.” She let out a sigh of exasperation. “Honestly, men. They think they're like Elves and can work as long without rest, and even Elves have the sense to stop and rest when they're tired.”

“I bet they're less stubborn than Dwarves.”

“Dwarves are in a league of their own.”

They shared a laugh before Fili sobered. “Sigrid.” His blue eyes met troubled grey. “Where’s my family? Have they come to see me at all? I've only spoken to you and Oin when I’ve been awake, and I thought I saw Balin a moment ago. I vaguely recall hearing Gandalf…” He covered her hand with his and squeezed lightly. “What are they not telling me?”

Sigrid looked away. “You should ask them, Fili. I know nothing of your customs or what is and is not appropriate for me to say.” She stroked his hand with her free one. “Whatever you're told, remember I'm here for you. You're not alone.”

“I know. Thank you, Sigrid.”

“Shall I fetch Oin? He’ll want to check and change your dressings anyway.”

“If you don't mind? Not that I don't enjoy your company, but I think there are things we need to discuss.”

It was not Oin who then entered his tent later however, but Sigrid again, with an elder, greying woman who looked like she hadn't had a proper meal in days. Though if she was of Laketown, as he thought she was, she probably hadn't. The people of that town had looked terribly underfed, and the only reason Sigrid and her siblings did not look the same was likely due to Bard’s efforts.

“Fili, this is Mistress Frida,” Sigrid announced her companion. “I'm afraid Mister Oin has been called away to the Mountain, so I've brought her to help check your wounds. She was one of Laketown’s best healers.”

The elderly woman attempted a curtesy. “Honored to meet you, milord. Not every day I get to tend to a prince.”

He cringed. “Please, call me Fili.”

“As you wish, milord,” she replied as she came over to him and started to unwind the bandages. Fili sighed, making Sigrid giggle. “Sigrid, my girl, I need a little more light. The old peepers ain't what they used to be. There's a good lass,” she said when the girl brought a candle over.

She bent him forward to examine the stab wound on his back, tsk-ing and tutting as she started to clean it and re-apply the salve, Sigrid watching her every move like a hawk. It made him blush just a little self-consciously. He kept his eyes fixed to the blanket as Frida and Sigrid wrapped a fresh bandage around his torso, only looking up when the old healer raised his head as she checked to see that there was no damage to his skull from the fall.

“Guess the rumor ‘bout Dwarves and their hard heads be true,” she remarked.

“That explains the stubbornness,” Sigrid replied with an amused smile in his direction and Fili tugged his blanket up, wishing he had a shirt to cover himself up with. The girl decided to take pity on him and brought over a shirt that was one size too big for him, but was thick and warm, and would have to do for now.

Fili hurried to put it on, doing up the laces quickly. “I’m not that stubborn, compared to some Dwarves I know,” he said. “Now, Kili and my uncle Thorin on the other hand. No one could beat them when it came to stubborn. In fact…” He trailed off when he saw Sigrid’s eyes widen and dart quickly over to where the healer stood washing her hands. Frida gave the barest shake of her head. “What? What is it?”

“Nothing.” Sigrid answered too quickly for his liking, backing away from his bed. “Nothing. I’m afraid I must go. I don’t want to tire you out when you’ve just woken proper, and Mistress Frida is needed elsewhere.” The older woman took this as her cue to head to the tent flap. “I’ll send for Mister Oin to check you over again, as soon as I can.”

“But Sigrid…!”

“And food! I’ll send some food. You must be hungry.”

“I am, but…” He sighed as the two females left the tent, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in his stomach that wasn’t caused by hunger.

A dwarf came by shortly after - one of the Iron Hills dwarves, by the look of his uniform, which meant Dain and his army were still around at least - and left him with a bowl of broth and half a loaf of stale bread. Fili wouldn’t complain about the poor fare. It was winter, and all sides had just been through a grueling battle.

Food must be scarce, with only the Woodland Realm and the Iron Hills having any sort of produce that could be spared. Laketown, Dale and Erebor were in ruins, and would need some time before they could start farming or rearing any of their own food. To keep his mind occupied as he ate, he thought of where the Dwarves at least would need to start work in order to get the kingdom up and running again.

He didn’t know what Bard and the human survivors had in mind, but they would definitely be looking to farm the land, and those who still had such skill in fishing would have the lake close by. Which reminded him that they’d have to find a way to get Smaug’s body out of the lake and dispose of it somehow.

Erebor’s mines needed to reopen so they could trade with Dale, and perhaps even the Woodland Realm, for food and other necessities, and he thought about asking Bilbo to help with small scale growing of herbs and other small plants within the mountain itself, remembering the window boxes he’d seen at the hobbit’s home, full of flowers and herbs. Bombur would like that, and he would definitely talk to the Elves about other kinds of agriculture, even if Thorin wouldn’t.

Thinking about Thorin again made him frown. His uncle hadn’t been to see him as far as he knew. He didn’t think he’d succumbed to the gold sickness again, and had gone back to the Mountain to hide in the treasury. No. The dwarf that had led the charge from the gate had been clear-headed and free from any madness. He’d been the uncle Fili had known all his life. So if Thorin wasn’t up and about, he was either caught up in the very negotiations he himself had been thinking of, or was also lying injured somewhere in the camp.

None of this, however, explained Kili’s absence, something he felt very keenly now that he was more awake. His brother should have been there yammering incessantly about how pretty the red-headed elf was and how much he liked her, and driving him up the wall. That he was not there left Fili feeling rather lonely, and missing the younger dwarf’s cheerful energy.

He shoved a broth-soaked piece of bread into his mouth a little aggressively and tried to bring his mind back to what his family, his people, his kingdom, and his neighbors needed in order to survive the winter. They also needed to get word sent to the Blue Mountains, to let them know that Erebor was theirs again, and its people could come home. He figured his mother would be relieved to hear from them again. She must be so worried. Perhaps he could ask a raven, or maybe that Brown Wizard friend of Gandalf’s would be able to help with one of his animals.

He had just finished his meal and was laying back against the pillows, trying to think of something else that would keep him occupied, when none other than Balin himself entered the tent, bowing slightly when he saw Fili was awake. He tried not to squirm uncomfortably where he sat.

“I am glad to see you awake, my prince,” the elder Dwarf said.

“Mister Balin, please. Just Fili.”

“I see you’ve eaten. That is well, and Oin and Mistress Frida tell me that you’re on the mend, which is even better to hear.”

“I only met Mistress Frida today. I only remember Oin and Sigrid being in here before.”

“Aye, that they were.” Balin sat on the stool Sigrid had left by his bed. “The lass in particular has been looking after you quite diligently. It seems you two formed a strong friendship from the time you were in Laketown.”

Fili nodded, feeling a slight blush rise to his cheeks. “She was kind to us, and aided us when we needed help.”

“Good, good. Friendships and close ties with our neighbors are what we will need to get us through this winter. We have a long road ahead of us before Erebor even reaches a tenth of what it was before the dragon came.”

“I intend to help in whatever way I can,” Fili said, setting his jaw stubbornly. “Just because I’m a prince doesn’t mean I expect to be waited on hand and foot. I want to be useful, and I want to be a part of Erebor’s restoration. Uncle can stay on the throne if he likes.”

Balin seemed to find the blanket rather interesting, the younger dwarf noted. “Yes, well, I suppose we will settle tasks and duties once we move into the Mountain proper.”

“And when is that going to be, Mister Balin? I want to know what’s going on outside this tent. Those are my people out there; I should be seeing to their needs.”

“Oh, laddie.” There was a slight quiver to the old dwarf’s voice. “You’re going to make a fine king. But come, you’ve only just woken. You need to rest and regain your strength.”

“I'll regain my strength by working, not lying idle in this bed.” Fili knew he sounded like a petulant child, but knowing he'd been mostly asleep for five days, and not knowing what had become of his brother and uncle, made him want to get up and find them. “And you said the healers told you I'm mending. I'm not as reckless as my brother, Balin, I won't push myself too hard. I'll stop and come right back when…” He paused when he saw the old advisor dab at what looked like tears from his eyes with a gloved finger. “Balin? What's the matter?”

“Nothing, lad. It’s nothing.” He looked up and his eyes were just a little too bright. “Rest. We’ll need you at full strength soon enough.”

“Balin…”

“I’ll see about having some proper clothes sent down to you for tomorrow. I know Dori found some stores that were undamaged by the dragon. There should be something to fit you…”

“Balin!”

The elder dwarf stopped at Fili’s raised voice. “Yes, my prince?”

He let the use of the title slide. “What has happened? I know something has happened, because everyone seems to be avoiding mentioning whatever it is. Oin, Sigrid, you. What are you all not telling me? And where are Thorin and Kili?” He noticed the flinch the other dwarf gave at mention of his uncle and brother. “Balin?”

The white-haired dwarf sighed. “It’s too late to talk about it now, lad.” He moved to stand, and Fili then noticed the weary droop to his shoulders. “Get some rest for now and-”

“Just TELL ME, Balin!” Fili almost shouted. He stopped and took a few calming breaths. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I just… I can’t lie here not knowing.”

He had never seen the old dwarf look so heart-broken. “Not now. Not today. I’ll bring you to them tomorrow.” He turned to leave the tent.

“Will you give me your word?”

Balin stopped by the flap, head bowed. “Aye, lad. You have my word.” He let the flap close as he left.

==========

“I promise you, I'm fine, brother,” Kili said as they walked up from the shores of the Long Lake towards the path that would take them to the ruins of Dale. “You worry like mother.”

“You were shot with a poisoned arrow!” Fili exclaimed. “You almost died! DIED, Kili. So yes, I worry.”

“But I didn't. ‘Almost’ doesn't count if you're still alive after.”

“I don't know how you can be so casual about this.”

Kili stopped his slower-than-usual pace and looked at him. Ahead of them, Bofur stopped as well to give the elderly Oin a chance to catch his breath. “What would you have me do? Wring my hands and tear at my hair in despair at how close to death I came? That is not me, Fili. I’m not going to show up at Erebor feeling sorry for myself.”

“You’re lucky to be showing up at Erebor at all.”

“Yes! Yes I know. And I’m very glad to be alive, so why dwell on what did not happen? Besides, we all came close to death when that dragon attacked us.”

“Because you’re not the one who almost lost his brother!” Fili’s voice rose, causing Bofur and Oin to glance over at them. He shook his head and stared at the ground, unwilling to look at Kili’s wide brown eyes. “I had to watch you dying and there was nothing I could do.”

“Fee…”

Fili sighed. “I’m sorry, Kee, I…”

Warm arms wrapped around him and pulled him into an embrace, and Fili hugged his brother tight - the first time he had done so since Kili had been cured - breathing in the familiar scent that was still there under the smell of fish and elf. He felt Kili’s forehead rest on his shoulder; Kili had always been just a little too tall to hug him without needing to bend slightly. Fili took another moment to hold his baby brother close, and then stepped back.

“You idiot,” Kili said softly and with a good deal of fondness. “Like you could ever get rid of me that easily. You’re stuck with me for a while.”

“I expect you to give me as many silver hairs as you’ve given Amad, Thorin and Balin, you hear that?” Fili lightly bumped their foreheads.

Kili grinned brightly. “I shall do my very best.”

“As much as I appreciate the sickeningly sweet display of brotherly love, boys, we need t’be gettin’ a move on!” Bofur called to them. “We’ve still aways to go before we reach Dale.”

“We’re coming!” Kili called and giving Fili a tug on his arm, quickened his pace to catch up to them.

Fili followed, and for a time, the four of them walked in silence, focusing on covering as much distance as possible, each hoping that they would find the rest of their Company alive once they got to the Mountain.

“Speaking of giving you silver hair,” Kili spoke up once they reached a flat plane after a good uphill trek. “I’m going to speak to Uncle about letting Tauriel visit Erebor. Y’know, now that it’s ours again. Once it’s cleaned up and livable of course.”

“Kili…”

“I know, I know. Thorin hates Thranduil, but she’s not him. She’s just a Captain of the Guard, she can’t control what her king does.”

“She locked us in the dungeons.”

“She saved my life. All our lives, getting us away from Laketown. We’ll tell him that; he’ll understand, you’ll see.”

“Or he might forbid you from seeing her altogether.”

“Then I’ll run away with her.”

Fili snorted. “I think she has a bit more sense than you. She will never betray her king.”

“She did when she came after us.” Kili shrugged. “I’m going to see her again, Fili, whatever Thorin says.”

“Kili, be sensible. It was different back in the Blue Mountains. Back then you only disobeyed our uncle. If you disobey him now, you’re going against our king.”

The dark-haired dwarf threw his hands up dramatically. “Why are you fighting me on this? I know you got on quite well with Bard’s daughter - and I’m not talking about the little one - and I’m happy for you. I’d support you if you wanted to pursue that.”

Fili pretended not to feel himself blushing at the mention of Sigrid. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt… and I can’t pursue it, whatever I feel for her. I’m the heir, and I need to marry a proper Dwarf lass.”

“You’re the heir, change the rules when you’re king.”

“She’ll be married and with grandchildren of her own by the time I take the throne,” Fili said quietly. “Maybe even passed on; humans have a rather short lifespan. Thorin could rule for another hundred years before it’s time for me to take over.”

Kili laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Which is why there’s no time to waste. If you like the girl, best to court her now, before they start prepping you for all the kingly stuff.” If he leaned a little on his brother to take some of the weight off his still healing leg, Fili pretended not to notice. “Guess I’m a bit luckier Elves live forever. More time to plan.”

Fili sighed again. “Kili…”

“Alright, you two, that’s enough,” Oin cut them off. “We’re almost at Dale. It’s best we go through there as quickly and silently as possible. Keep your eyes straight ahead, and don’t let them linger too long on anything.” He took up the lead as they came up the rise to the overlook. “I’ll never get used to all this death, no matter how much I see it.”

==========

Chapter Text

It was Mistress Frida that checked and redressed his wound the next morning, before she deemed him fit enough to go up to the Mountain with Balin. “Take it slow,” she’d warned him. “The wound’s healing nice enough so ya don’t want to go muck it up all over again.”

He’d thanked her, and then she’d left him to get dressed in some of the garments Dori had brought down and laid out for him earlier that morning. The elder dwarf had been strangely quiet and had only mumbled a quick ‘good morning’ before hastily leaving the tent once he’d finished. Not once had he looked up at Fili’s face.

One of the Lake-men brought him a bowl of thin porridge once he’d dressed, and he ate it mostly to have something hot in his belly while he made the cold trek up to the Mountain. When he finished, he left the empty bowl on the small table beside his bed, and then took a few careful steps around his tent. He still felt weaker than normal, and his sore muscles protested the movement, but as he hadn’t fallen flat on his face the minute he stood up, he took it as a good sign.

He looked up when he heard Balin quietly clear his throat outside the tent. “Come in.”

“How do you feel this morning, my lad?” he asked.

“Better than I was six days ago,” Fili tried to joke, but the smile didn't quite reach Balin’s eyes. “I'm sorry, I was only… umm…”

Balin patted his arm. “It's alright. I know… Come, let us go…”

Stepping out of the tent after Balin, Fili stopped short and blinked in the winter morning light, taking in deep breaths of the cold, crisp air. Around him and Balin, Humans and Dwarves that milled around the surrounding tents, stopped what they were doing to look at him, some in wonder, most in relief. Fili glanced self-consciously at Balin.

“Why do they look at me like that?”

“You are the Crown Prince of Durin’s House,” he said, as the younger dwarf made a distasteful face at the title. “And until a couple of days ago, no one was sure if you would live to see this day.” He nodded at a few of the Laketown folk who tipped their hats to him and Fili.

Fili looked around beyond where they were standing, noting that most of the camp seemed to be pitched just slightly before gates to Erebor, between the Mountain, and the still smoking ruins of Dale. To a side, just a little removed from the main camp, were pitched the tents of the Elves, looking just a little finer and brighter than everyone else’s. Of course they would, Fili thought to himself.

“I would have figured the Elves to pack up and leave as soon as the battle ended,” he remarked to Balin. “Or at least Thranduil and his guard.” He nodded at the grandest of the elven tents. Why is he still here.”

Balin’s face was emotionless when he answered. “He still has business in the Mountain.”

“I see. Those white gems Uncle spoke of? He can have them back, I’ll make sure of it.”

“Very good, lad.” The white-haired dwarf gestured to a small path between the mass of tents. “Shall we?”

Fili nodded and followed him, nodding to those amongst the Men and Dwarves who acknowledged him, and stopping to speak to those who he deemed still gravely injured. Balin watched him with a small approving smile on his face. The prince possessed the humble diplomacy his uncle never had; he would do well building relations with Erebor’s neighbors.

“My prince, we must go,” he said eventually.

Fili sighed and squeezed the hand of a young woman from Laketown who also claimed descent from the people of Dale. She was barely older than Sigrid and had been injured in the leg by an orc spear while defending the Great Hall of Dale during the battle. She had been lying on a makeshift stretcher outside her tent, enjoying the fresh air when Fili had passed her.

“I will see what we can do to make you something that can help you walk,” he told her as he rose, mindful of the injury to his own back.

“That would be greatly appreciated, Prince Fili, thank you.”

He gave a quick nod, then moved to fall into step slightly behind Balin as they resumed their trek to the gates.

The front gates were as he remembered, with the remains of the makeshift wall they'd built forming a bridge into the Mountain and the main halls. They crossed carefully, Balin more surefooted than he was. Once again he felt mesmerized by how large and vast Erebor was - nothing like what he was used to in the Blue Mountains.

He also noted how empty it was.

“Balin?” he asked. “Where is everyone? The rest of the Company?”

“Well, I know Ori’s busy dusting off the old libraries and trying to get them organized.” Fili thought he was forcing himself to keep his voice light. “Bombur’s cleaning out the kitchens and trying to send food when he can, but our supplies are low and we've no grain.”

“I've got some ideas for that problem,” Fili said. “I've had a lot of time to think while lying in that tent. But do go on.”

“Where was I? Ah, yes. Oin as you know has been busy tending the wounded; Dori has been helping him where he can. Bofur, Gloin, Bifur and Nori went back down to the mines, and to check on the forges. Erebor needs industry again if the region wants to prosper. So they're checking on what needs repair, and what veins we can tap into right away to get some crafting started. There are some crafters in Dain’s army that are keen to stay on and work.”

Fili nodded. “All of that is good to hear, Balin, but… what of my kin?”

The old dwarf’s shoulders visibly sagged. “This way, lad,” he said as he turned a corner and descended. Fili had never been to this part of the mountain before, so he followed Balin curiously, but the hollow feeling in his gut was starting to grow with every step forward. As they turned into a passage, he saw a familiar figure standing before a tall archway, and he straightened a little more as he quickened his pace.

“Dwalin!” He all but ran forward, grasping the taller dwarf’s shoulders as his were held in turn. “I’m so glad to see you well.”

“Ohh, lad. Not as glad as I am t’see you.” The burly dwarf pulled him into a hug, causing Balin to hastily stutter that Fili’s wound wasn't completely healed and “Don't break the blessed stitches, you ox!”, but Dwalin was surprisingly gentle and when he finally pulled away, Fili saw what he thought were unshed tears in his eyes.

“I'm alright, Dwalin,” he said. Then he looked around where they were standing. “But why are you here? Where are Thorin and Kili?”

Fili had never seen the big dwarf’s face crumble in despair so fast, even as Balin bowed his head. “I'm so sorry, lad,” Dwalin said as he stepped away from the door. “Go on in. They've been waiting for you.”

The hollow feeling that had been building in his stomach since they'd come down the stairs now threatened to engulf him as he took a step into the room Dwalin had been guarding. Flaming torches lit the room and two plinths in the center of the room, upon which two figures lay. Fili felt a chill run up his spine as he drew close enough to recognize them.

Thorin lay on the one nearest to him, Orcrist in his grasp. The Elves must have returned it to him at some point then. Fili looked down on him and knew he should be feeling something - grief, rage, denial, something - but there was nothing save for a cold numbness that left him standing there, still as stone. His uncle was supposed to be indestructible. He’d survived the sack of Erebor, the Battle of Azanulbizar, the journey to the Blue Mountains, Azog the Defiler, even the cursed dragon sickness! So why was he lying here?!

“How?” he asked lowly, for he knew Balin and Dwalin stood in the doorway.

“Azog had him pinned down on the ice,” Dwalin answered. “Thorin blocked the thrust with Orcrist.” He came into the room and stood a few steps behind Fili. “I can’t tell you why, lad, but Thorin moved his sword. He managed to stab the pale bastard through the heart, but not before Azog got him through the chest.” Fili heard his voice crack. “Oin said it punctured a lung.”

“And where were you that you saw all of this so clearly?” Fili asked, his own voice like ice. “You, who swore to protect him with your own life, WHERE WERE YOU?!” The last three words echoed in the hall.

“Fili, lad…” Balin started.

“I was waylaid. The orcs cut me off and I couldn’t reach him in time.” Dwalin’s head was bowed as he stared at the floor. “I’m so sorry, lad. So, so sorry.” Fili glanced back and saw the other dwarf’s shoulders shake as grief overcame him. “I wanted to save him. I was ready to give my life for him, but I was too late.” He dropped to his knees, sobbing into his hands. “I’m so sorry.”

Balin went to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Brother…”

Fili looked back to his uncle’s still form. “Take him away.”

Both elder dwarves looked up to where he stood. “Lad, I don’t-” Balin tried again to say.

“I said, leave me!”

Dwalin stopped his brother from going to the prince with a hand to his arm, and the two exchanged a look, before the younger of the two staggered to his feet, and nodded to the elder. Together, they retreated from the room, Dwalin shutting the door behind him.

Now alone, Fili tore himself from Thorin’s side and moved to the second plinth further away from where his uncle lay. Even as he walked to it, he knew from the pain in his heart who he would find lying upon it, and it was wrong. It was all so wrong.

In the firelight, Kili looked to be merely sleeping, and Fili reached up and gently brushed some errant strands of hair away from his face. “Kee…” His voice broke, and a tear splashed onto Kili’s cheek. Fili’s shaking fingers touched his cold skin to wipe it away, even as more followed, and he buried his face into his baby brother’s chest. “KILI!!!”

He didn’t know how long he stood there, bent and clutching his brother to him, brow pressed to Kili’s cold temple. He didn’t care. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Kili was supposed to be hugging him back and telling him he was an idiot for worrying so much, and making plans on how to put some silver in his big brother’s hair, not lying so pale and still. Another anguished sob escaped him as he tried not to shake Kili in a deluded attempt to wake him up, which was when something slipped from the lifeless hand and clattered to the floor. Fili looked over at the painfully familiar object, and as he did so, he noticed a shift out of the corner of his eye.

He raised his head, one hand releasing Kili to instinctively move to the dagger at his belt. “Come out before I kill you.”

A shadow moved and stepped into the firelight, and Fili relaxed his hold on his weapon.

“I had to see him.”

“How did you get in here?”

“Does it matter?”

“… Do you know…?”

“Bolg. He is dead.”

Fili sighed. “Why are you here, Tauriel?”

The elf came to him slowly, stopping to pick up the stone that had fallen and running her thumb over the runes. “You’re not the only one that loves him.”

He looked at her. Back when she had walked calmly through the doors of Bard’s house while stabbing an orc in the neck, she had been radiant. When she had healed Kili’s leg wound, he didn’t know how, but he could have sworn she positively glowed then. There was none of that now. Whatever light had been in her was gone, flowing slowly from her in the tears that still ran down her cheeks.

“Keep it,” he said, as she was about to place the stone back in Kili’s hand. “I know he gave it to you. Keep it. Something to remember him by.”

Her fingers closed tightly around it. “Thank you.” She reached for Kili’s hand with her other; Fili didn’t stop her. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save him.” Her cheek pressed against the back of his cold hand, and something moved in Fili as he watched her. “What will you do with him now?”

“He and uncle will be returned to the Mountain, back to the stone.” His eyes sought hers. “What of you?”

Her lowered her head. “I am still banished. King Thranduil has forgiven me, and lessened the length of time, but I still disobeyed him, and a law is a law.”

“How long?”

“A hundred years.” She laughed humorlessly as he frowned. “Worry not. It is not as long as you think. And perhaps…” she trailed off, but they both knew what she had failed to say.

“Where will you go?” Fili asked instead.

“I do not know. I could seek refuge in Imladris, but the East is my home, and it would be too far away from the Woodland Realm. Maybe I-”

“Stay here.”

At that, she blinked and raised her head. “What?”

“Stay here, in Erebor,” he repeated. “You need not be underground. There are rooms higher up where you can still see the stars.”

When she spoke, her voice was just a little unsteady. “But this is a Dwarven kingdom. Your people would never-”

“And am I not their King?” His hand covered the one that held the stone. “Whatever was between my uncle and your king is not between us. My brother believed that when he spoke to you in the dungeons; I believed it when I saw you heal him.” He squeezed her hand gently. “If you’re so worried, call it returning the favor. You gave me more time with him.”

He looked back down at his younger brother’s face and kissed his brow before laying him back down on the plinth. When he turned, he had an elf in his arms, as Tauriel hugged him tightly to her, and he rubbed her back gently.

“Thank you,” she said again.

“It’s what Kili would have done,” he replied.

==========

Chapter Text

The funeral was held on the seventh day after the Battle.

Fili and Tauriel had remained by Kili’s body until they were too exhausted by grief and injury - and he knew Tauriel was injured from the way she too favored her back at times - and finally left the hall in the late hours of the night, leaning on each other for support. Fili had offered to find her a tent, but Tauriel declined. She still had a place in the Elven camp until such time as they chose to return to Mirkwood. Fili had a feeling it would be after the funeral, and made a note to ask Ori and Bofur to see about preparing a room in the upper levels of the Mountain for her as he had promised. He had a feeling the young scribe and the friendly miner would be the only two who would do it without some kind of protest.

He had returned to his tent alone and found only Frida there waiting to change his dressings. She had done so without a word, for which Fili was thankful, and left him with only a squeeze to his shoulder and a bowl of broth. He noted absently, as he forced it down, that it had become thinner. Maybe he should send out hunters to see if any game could be found - even a rabbit or pheasant would be welcome meat to the camp.

He'd lain in his bed then, awake, until his body gave in to weariness, and only awoke to the sound of Dori’s voice in the tent, asking him to rise. Dwarven funerals were grand affairs, and so Fili was dressed accordingly to the best of Dori’s skill, and the availability of garments and armor. When their eyes met however, Fili could see that the older dwarf, too, wished to be anywhere but here. Dori squeezed his arm, a whispered “I'm sorry” leaving his lips before he took his leave and left Fili to himself.

This time, he left his tent alone and made his way through the camp to Erebor’s gates. The camp itself was quiet, those who could having walked to Dale to gather on the ramparts, while those who remained wore black and bowed their heads to him as he passed. No Dwarves were to be seen. They were gathered inside the Mountain, in the large funeral hall where he would get to see his brother and uncle one last time.

Balin and Dwalin flanked him as he entered Erebor - he hadn't seen them since he'd dismissed them from the holding room the day before - and the rest of the Company fell in behind them in two rows, Gandalf, Bilbo, Radagast and Beorn bringing up the rear - the only non-Dwarves permitted to enter Erebor at this time and attend the funeral on account of either being part of Thorin’s Company, or having assisted him in some way.

Fili wished Tauriel could have been amongst them, but knew she would not have been welcome. There was no way to explain what there was between her and Kili without causing an uproar. No, losing Kili was already hard on her; he would not subject her to the unkind remarks of less-than-gracious Dwarves with a grudge.

As they moved further into the Mountain, he heard the great horns of Dale sound the anthem of Erebor in slow, somber notes, and he found himself wishing for Sigrid’s steady, comforting presence. She had been the one bright thing he’d had over the past few days, and he missed her light, but she was likely with her family in Dale, and he was here to mourn the last of his, save for his mother.

This loss would devastate her, he knew. She was going to be so disappointed in him. He'd broken the promise he'd made her, and now she had lost her youngest son.

Fili felt tears burn the back of his eyes, but stubbornly forced them not to fall as they entered the corridor that would take them to the hall. As they passed through the now-empty holding room, Gandalf stopped him.

“This is yours to wear now, my lad,” the wizard said and placed the raven-crown upon his head, the dark metal in stark contrast with his golden hair. “Come. It is time.”

His legs moved of their own accord, bringing him to a lone platform that overlooked a suspended stone slab held in the hands of two great Dwarven kings of old, on which were placed the two plinths bearing the fallen king - now with the Arkenstone - and prince, a host of Dwarves at his back. The Company of Dwarves and Bilbo circled them, and Fili noted how the hobbit wept bitterly at Thorin’s side, unwilling to move until Bofur nudged him along.

Gandalf moved then, from where he'd been standing off to the side with Radagast and Beorn, to join the Company as they came to stand before Fili’s platform. His voice echoed through the hall.

The King has come unto his own
Under mountain, under stone.
Send him now unto the deep,
Unto earth, eternal sleep
Under mountain, under stone

The gathered Dwarves chorused the final line, but Fili remained silent.

“Through all the lands, let it be known: the King is dead!” Gandalf looked up to where Fili stood, and the young Dwarf saw the sadness in his eyes.

Balin stepped forward. “Long live the King!”

From in front and behind weapons were drawn and raised to him, as all gathered echoed, “Long live the King!”. Fili wanted to fling the crown into the deeps below.

As Dain and his army stood in salute, he left the platform as the Company laid Thorin and Kili on biers, and followed them down into the tombs, standing on a ledge where he was to oversee as Balin, Dori and Oin chanted the final rites.

Kili was interred first, and as his body was placed in the stone hollow, Fili knew he was taking his heart with him. “Goodbye, little brother,” he murmured before the slab slid closed.

He stood as stone, even when tears ran down his face of their own accord, watching detached as Thorin was interred with a little more grandeur, and Bilbo wept freely in Bofur’s arms. It was only when they turned to face him, that he started to move, running as fast from the room as his body would allow, heedless of the cries of his name, and the firm “Let him go” from Gandalf.

He needed air, he needed light, he needed to get away from this place of death before he was tempted to follow in his kin’s footsteps. Reaching the main hall, he dashed past the gates and over the stone-rubble bridge, past a surprised Bard and Elven King who had come to pay their respects to king old and new.

His feet and his aching heart led him past the campsite to the one place he knew he could be alone for a while.

==========

“Y’know brother, as far as hiding places go, this one isn't very good.” Kili plopped down beside his golden-haired sibling. “The point of a hiding place is to keep you out of sight after all.”

“Shut up and go away.” Fili chucked another pebble into the stream a few paces away from them.

The dark-haired dwarf did no such thing however, plucking a few long reeds out of the ground and starting to weave them. He was patient, knowing Fili just needed a few moments to simmer in whatever was bothering him before he would share.

“I don't want to do it.” The older muttered soon enough.

“Hmm?” Kili asked absently, focused on his weaving. “Do what?”

“Be king after Thorin.”

“Well that's a shame.” Kili did some imaginary measurements with his hands.

“Why is that?”

“Because you'd be a good king.”

Fili scoffed. “You don't know that. And you're biased.”

Kili glanced at him. “I do know that because I've known you all my life, and most of yours. And of course I'm biased, you ninny, I'm your brother.” He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I still don't want to do it.”

“It's your fault for being born first.” Kili ducked as Fili swatted at him.

“Are you here to help or not?”

“I didn't know I was supposed to be helping.” Kili shrugged as he wove, but there was a playfulness in his bright brown eyes.

“Ass. Then what else are you good for?”

“Oh lots of things: charming the dwarrowdams on your behalf, shooting a bow and arrow, carving wood, stitching your shirts when you rip them, telling Uncle not to put so much pressure on you because you'll become a king when you're ready…. Shall I go on?”

Fili blinked. “You told him that?”

Kili grinned. “Not in those same words, no. And he might have thrown a plate at my head.” He chuckled. “See, this is why I can't be king if you abdicate. I’ve inherited Uncle’s temper, and one generation of him on the throne is quite enough. If I were to rule in your place, I might very well become the first of Durin’s line to be assassinated by his own people.”

The older dwarf let out a bark of laughter at that. “I suppose you're right in that regard. Though you know I'd never let anyone speak against you.”

“So why not do it from the throne instead of from behind it? At least more people would listen to you then.”

Fili considered that. “I just… I don't know if I can be the king Thorin wants me to be.”

“So don't be. Be the king you want to be.”

“I don't know what that is yet.” He looked out across the stream. “I'm afraid I'll mess it up completely. It scares me, Kee, being up on that throne all alone.”

Kili looked at him. “But you won't be alone. We’ll be there to help you: me, Amad - she's not that old you know - maybe even Mister Dwalin; Ori, little Gimli will be all grown up by then. He can be head of the treasury like his Adad.”

“Gimli is a terror and will grow up to be a warrior,” Fili said, matter-of-factly.

“Whatever it is, you have nothing to fear. You’re not like Uncle. You’re no pushover, but you’re not stubborn like he is, and you don’t have our temper so you’ll be less likely to bite someone’s head off if they come to you with some new and unheard off idea.”

Fili looked back at him. “You really think I can do it?”

Kili lifted the crown of reeds he’d been weaving and placed it on his brother’s head. “Of course you can.” He sat back, looking pleased with his handy work. “And you’d better, because I bloody well don’t want to do it. I like my freedom too much.”

This time Fili did manage to swat him over the head.

==========

Sigrid found him down by the banks of the Long Lake, sitting on the grass and hunched over his knees, the crown long since ripped off his head and lying on the ground further away. She picked it up before sitting beside him with it in her lap.

“It’s a very beautiful crown,” she said.

“I don’t want it,” he muttered.

“It’s finely made; looks like it could be easily broken because of how light it is, but is actually very strong,” she continued as if she hadn’t heard him.

Fili looked at her with sad, tired eyes. “Why are you here, Sigrid?”

She wanted very much to reach over and wipe the tears from his face. “I didn’t want you to think you were alone. I know it’s been a hard day for you. Sometimes it’s not easy to say goodbye.” She shifted. “I was ten when my mother died. Too young to accept it, but old enough to know that she wasn’t coming back.”

“I didn’t really know my father well enough to miss him when he died,” Fili said softly. “I was only five or six, and too distracted by Kili. Heh. Kili though… Kili was… he was my world…” He swiped angrily at the tears that still ran down his face. “He always made me feel better no matter how bad my day was.”

“And what would Kili say now, if he was here?”

Fili sniffed. “Probably tell me to wear that cursed crown and go be a king.”

Sigrid smiled a bit. “It does suit you.”

“I’m not ready Sigrid. I don’t think I ever was, though Kili had me almost convinced once. This was always supposed to be Thorin’s. This was what he fought for. I was supposed to be at his side, learning from him while he ruled. I don’t know how to rule people! I don’t want to be responsible for their lives when I feel like my own life went into stone with my brother.”

“I didn’t want to be a mother to Tilda and Bain either,” the girl said. “I just wanted to be their big sister, and not need to look after them. But Da was working to put food on the table, and someone had to make sure they were fed.” She rubbed his back gently. “You still carry your brother here, Fili.” She gently tapped his chest. “He’s not going anywhere.”

“I still don’t know how to rule people.”

“Don’t you?” She nodded to the still-smoking ruins of Laketown in the distance. “No one can live there anymore. That dragon’s body is still lying there, and until we remove it, we can’t salvage anything and fish will be scarce.”

Fili followed her gaze. “We could… haul it from the lake and burn it, from the inside. But remove the teeth and claws first. Sell them to the Elves - they love those things - and maybe even Gondor would be willing to trade supplies for a good-sized fang or two. The Elves can keep whatever they can remove if they help us dispose of the body.”

“And what of the people? Winter is upon us, and Dale is still mostly uninhabitable. Many will die of exposure before we can start proper reconstruction of the houses - the sick and wounded, children and elderly.”

“They can shelter in the Mountain,” Fili said almost immediately. “It’s not exactly warm in there either, but at least it’ll be out of the wind, and we can still light fires inside.”

“And perhaps, with the Dwarves being masters of stone-craft, they can help any able-bodied Men with the building during the daylight hours. They would know best how to make the houses sturdy.”

“That is a good idea. May I use it?”

“Of course. You will be a good king, Fili.” This time, Sigrid did reach over and rub the tear-stains off his cheek. “Maybe you won’t be the king Thorin was going to be, but you will be your own king.”

Fili rested his cheek against her warm hand. “Kili said something similar to me once.”

“Then listen to Kili. He still speaks to you in your heart.”

She handed the crown to him. Fili hesitated for a moment before accepting it, but didn’t put it on, staring at it instead while she watched a dozen different emotions warring on his face. He sighed heavily, and all she wanted then was to hold him in her arms and keep him safe from the world just a little bit longer.

“There’s so much to do,” he said softly. “And I feel so overwhelmed, and so alone.”

“Oh, Fili.” She squeezed his shoulder gently. “You’re not alone. You still have your kin, the whole Company is behind you, Dain and his army are also staying on to help.”

“There you go, sounding like Kili again.” He managed a small smile.

She smiled back. “My Da offers his help, too, as does - believe it or not - King Thranduil.”

Suddenly Fili sat up straighter. “Bard and Thranduil. Oh Durin’s Beard, I ran right past them back then! They must think I’ve gone mad, or affronted them, or… or… something!” He dropped his head in his hands.

“Fili!” Sigrid held him by the shoulders and gave him a gentle shake. “Fili look at me. Yes. That’s good. Now listen to me.” She held his blue eyes with her steely grey. “No one thinks you were mad, nor rude. Everyone knows what you lost, and they share your grief. They understand - my father and the Elven King. They are both willing to wait a few more days, till you are feeling better, to discuss a few simple matters.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Start small. Start with your kin. Let them know how they can help you.” She drew him closer and placed a light kiss to his forehead, sensing his brows rise in surprise, but not caring. Proper etiquette be drowned, the young dwarf was hurting and needed some kind of comfort, and the stirring in her heart told her she needed to let him know she would be there for him.

“Sigrid…?” He looked at her questioningly as she rose and held out a hand to him.

“C’mon,” she said. “Mistress Frida is waiting to tend to you, and I am told the hunters were able to bring down two bucks, so there will be meat for supper tonight.”

He grasped her hand firmly and got to his feet, though he didn’t let go once he was standing.

==========

Chapter Text

Fili called for a meeting of the Company (minus Bilbo - he would speak to the hobbit separately) in his tent the next day. After Sigrid had discreetly walked him back to the camp, she and Frida had checked on his back wound - the healer declaring that it was healing nicely - and then left him to himself, giving the order around the camp that he was not to be disturbed for the rest of the night.

“Find something to work on,” Sigrid had advised before leaving. “Sometimes it helps to distract from the grief.”

Taking her advice, he’d then spent the rest of the night writing up plans for the reconstruction of Erebor (and Dale to an extent), and the ideas he needed to discuss with the various parties concerned, until he finally fell asleep, half on the papers he’d spread out over his bed.

Now, as the Company looked on, he addressed them.

“I know it’s been a hard week for us, and what we’ve accomplished is not the end, but a beginning. We won the Mountain, we defended it, and now it’s time to rebuild it. It won’t be easy - it’s winter, and food is scarce, and there’s only eleven of us left who started out on this journey.” He paused, trying to gather his thoughts together. “Eleven of us cannot rebuild Erebor. We need help.”

He watched as the gathered Dwarves looked at each other, studied their faces carefully. Gloin, Dori and Balin traded the most glances; Bifur, Bofur and Bombur stood off to the side - not being of Durin’s line, they knew they had the least say in whatever was discussed; Nori, Ori and Oin waited patiently to see where he was going. Alone by the tent flap, behind everyone else, stood Dwalin. He took another breath.

“I’m not Thorin,” he said, and caught Bofur’s nod. “I cannot be the king Thorin was going to be. I don’t even know what plans he had for after the dragon. If he ever spoke of them, it was not to me. I can only do what I feel would be best, not just for us, but those who live around us.”

“Meaning Dale,” Nori said.

Fili nodded. “We need their help. They have hunters, seamstresses, fishermen, maybe a few farmers. They know the land around these parts. Given the right tools, they can provide food and clothing for themselves and us. What they don’t have right now, is shelter. Dale is uninhabitable right now. What livable dwellings remained after Smaug were destroyed when the orcs sacked the city. Dale’s Folk now live in tents on the streets and in this camp. They have sick and injured, the very young and very old. Once winter properly sets in many of them will die. They need our help.”

Gloin frowned. “And what aid do you propose we give them, lad?” he asked. “As you said, we ourselves have nothing.”

“We have a very large mountain.”

“You’re not proposing we-”

“I am. We give them shelter in the Mountain, in exchange for what food they can provide us, until such time as they can return to their city. We share our healers, and our resources; Human and Dwarves together will help to rebuild Dale and Erebor. We cannot do this alone, and I will not have my reign as king of Erebor begin with the death of Dale’s Folk.”

Gloin looked like he wanted to protest, but held his tongue.

Balin stood up a little straighter, and Fili thought he saw something akin to pride in the old dwarf’s eyes. “Have you spoken to Bard of this plan?”

“Not yet, but I know he will see the sense in this.” Because Sigrid already does, he thought. “Dori, Nori, Bifur, may I leave the task for finding suitable shelter in Erebor for Dale’s people to you?”

“Aye, no worries, sire. We’ll handle it,” Nori answered for the trio before his older brother could speak. “I think it’s a good idea, by the way. Everyone in the same place, it’ll be easy to pick up on any dissenters, too.”

“Good.” Fili nodded. “Bombur, I want you to be in charge of food and other supplies. Whatever game and edible plants we can get, I want brought to the main kitchens to be prepared by you and whatever cooks are amongst the humans, so that all may be rationed fairly. The same for the healers. I would like Oin and Mistress Frida to oversee that.

“Consider it done, lad,” Oin replied.

“I’ve befriended a couple of clerks who used to work for the old Master of Laketown,” Ori spoke up. “I think we can come up with some records to keep track of those living in the Mountain, and what their skills are and where they can help with either the current living or rebuilding.”

Fili smiled a bit at the young scribe. “That’s an excellent idea, Ori. Can you send word for them to begin immediately?” Ori nodded eagerly. “Wonderful. I will also meet with Dain and see who amongst him would be willing to stay and help us with the reconstruction and cleanup. Gloin, can you help to settle them in?”

“Aye, if I must.”

“I also want to pay them what my uncle owed them, and the Elves.” He saw Gloin, Dori and Dwalin visibly stiffen. “The white gems Thorin spoke of, the ones Thranduil desires. I want them found and brought to me. I will deliver them to him.” He raised a hand as some of them started to protest. “Have you not heard me? Winter is upon us, and all the treasures of Erebor will not help us survive it. Hunting and gathering takes time and Dale’s folk are weakened. Dain’s supplies will not last forever, and they require their own supplies to return to the Iron Hills. Right now the Woodland Realm is our only source of available food, and I would gladly trade our over-abundance of gold for a good warm loaf of bread and hearty meat stew.”

“I’ll second that,” Bombur spoke up.

“Aye, brother.” Bofur nodded. “Y’leave the white gems to me, lad. I’ll make sure they’re found.”

“Thank you, Bombur, Bofur.” He steeled himself for this next bit. “And I do have one more task for you and Ori: I would like your help to clear out one of the upper rooms - one with a balcony, perhaps looking south-west, towards Mirkwood.”

“This for who I think it is?” Bofur asked.

Fili nodded. “King Thranduil has banished Tauriel from the Woodland Realm. I have asked her to stay with us, if she is agreeable.”

“You would allow an Elf to stay in the Mountain?!” Once again Gloin spoke up.

“Yes, given that she saved my brother’s life on more than one occasion.” Fili snapped, his patience wearing thin. “And I would ask that you all uphold your honour as Dwarves of Erebor, and of the House of Durin, and treat her kindly. She has lost just as much as we have, and I know in my heart, Kili would have wanted this for her.”

Bofur clapped Ori on the shoulder. “I like Tauriel well enough. Don’t worry, sire, we’ll make sure the lass is settled in. C’mon Ori.” He steered the younger dwarf out of the tent.

Gloin grunted. “Guess I’ll go check on the rooms for Dain’s people,” he said, and followed them out.

“And I’ll go make sure my brother doesn’t start another war on the way,” Oin said.

Bifur, Dori, Nori and Bombur took their leave as well and Fili watched them go and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. So far so good. He turned to the dwarves who still remained, knowing he had much to say to them, and trying to find a place to start.

Balin beat him to it. “You did well, lad. Don’t worry about the couple of them, they’ll come around soon enough. They know you’re right.”

Fili sat back on his bed, suddenly feeling tired, and glanced at the crown that sat on the table where he’d left it after returning to his tent the night before. “And you’re not opposed to asking the Elves for help? Uncle would have never done it.”

“And as you reminded us all, you are not Thorin. I cannot advise you as I would him… if i am still to be your advisor.”

“Of course you will be.” Fili sighed. “That day in that room, I spoke unkindly. I was overcome with shock and grief and that is still no excuse for my rudeness, especially as you have served my family so loyally for so long. I apologize, Balin. And to you as well, Dwalin.” He lifted his head and looked at the burly dwarf who still stood beside the tent flap. “I’m sorry. I know you did all you could to try and save him.”

Balin smiled kindly. “You’re a good lad, Fili. And you will make a great king.”

Dwalin came further into the tent now, and knelt before Fili, placing a fist over his breast. “When your uncle became King Under the Mountain after the Battle of Moria, I made him a promise: to serve and protect him as my liege and king, until I no longer draw breath. I make that same promise you, Fili, King Under the Mountain.”

If tears shone in his eyes, Fili didn’t care. “Thank you, Dwalin.” He managed a smile as the tall dwarf got to his feet. “And I promise I will try and be a good king to all of you.”

Dwalin gripped his shoulder firmly, though not painfully, and met his eyes. “Your uncle would be so proud, lad.”

Balin cleared his throat, and Dwalin stepped back. “There is one thing I should mention,” he said, and Fili looked at him curiously. “I took the liberty of sending a raven to the Blue Mountains, to inform your mother of what has transpired. It will take some time for her to gather our people there, but I advised her to wait till Spring before she sets out to bring them home. I hope I-”

“That is wonderful!” Fili cut him off. “Thank you!” He looked up as one of Dain’s people entered with three bowls of food for them and waited for him to set it on a table, before nodding his thanks and dismissing him. Then he turned back to his kin. “Now I feel I should tell you about what I want to do about the dragon.”

==========

A week later, Fili stood on the shore of the Long Lake, watching the ruin of Laketown smoulder once again, Elven and Dwarven flame engulfing what remained of the corpse of the dragon with it. He was wrapped in a heavy cloak to keep out the worst of the biting wind. To his right stood Bard, similarly dressed, watching the sight grimly. Thranduil stood on his left, the cold wind barely affecting him as it tugged on his pale gold hair.

“Good riddance to the thing,” he said to the two mortals before looking down at Fili. “You were rather generous with your gift of dragon fangs and claws. You would keep none for yourself?”

“I would have nothing more to do with that beast,” he said flatly.

“Nor I,” Bard agreed. “It has brought enough ruin to both our peoples. I pray you use those items wisely, my Lord Thranduil. We have had enough of war and destruction.”

“Nonetheless, weapons, too, must be forged. War doesn't end here, if the warning I received is to be believed. Our lands must be ready to fight the oncoming darkness, whether tomorrow or 60 years from now.” He spoke the last to Fili in particular.

“Erebor will be ready. And so will Dale.” Fili winced a bit as the cold made his still sore and healing body ache, and he longed for the warmth of his room in the Mountain. “I thank you for having supplies sent to us so swiftly.”

“As do I,” Bard added.

“I would not have my allies starve to death in this winter,” Thranduil said as they turned away from the lake and began the trek back up to Dale. “Especially not after they have been rather generous.”

“Would you have let us starve had we not been so generous?” Fili asked before he could stop himself, though he hardly appeared contrite for asking it.

Thranduil only smirked. “You have your uncle’s wit, and his courage. Though less of his arrogance. You will do well.” He turned to Bard. “What of your own people?”

“They are currently taking shelter inside the Mountain until such time as Dale can be rebuilt properly and winter has passed,” the new lord of the City replied. “King Fili has been gracious in opening his halls to us.”

Fili moved his shoulders uncomfortably. “My uncle would have done the same, had he been here. He had broken from the dragon sickness by the time he joined the Battle.”

“Perhaps,” Thranduil agreed. “But maybe a little less graciously.”

“Let us not dwell on those who have passed.” Bard stepped in a little hastily. “They rest in peace now, and we should let them.” He paused for a moment, then asked Fili, “When will the rest of your people arrive?”

“They will leave the Ered Luin by Spring and hopefully be here within that month or so,” the young Dwarf replied. “My mother leads them, so they should make good time, especially now that the mountain passes are mostly free of orcs.”

“I will ensure their safe passage through Mirkwood, so long as they do not stray from the path,” Thranduil said.

“I am hoping Dale will be at least halfway rebuilt by then so that we can be out of your hair by the time they arrive,” Bard added as they stepped through the archways and into the city of Dale itself. “As you can see, we have been making good process, thanks in part to Lord Dain and his soldiers. They work tirelessly.”

Fili smiled a bit. “Thank you, my lords.” He gave a slight bow. “And I shall be sure to convey your kind words to my cousin when I see him, Lord Bard. Though I know your own people have worked just as hard in its restoration.”

He stopped for a moment to examine the construction of one of the buildings, resting his hand on a wall to feel the stonework and feeling it hum beneath his fingers as he ran them over the surface. The Elf and Man waited patiently, watching the young Dwarf as he did what came naturally to his people. Dwarves had the same affinity for stone as Elves did for trees, and Thranduil at least understood the connection. When Fili rejoined them, he looked a lot more relaxed and settled in his skin than when they had left the lake.

“The work goes well,” he told them. “Smaug and the orcs may have destroyed roofs and walls, but the foundations here are strong. They come from offshoots of the Mountain’s stone; they will not fail.”

“I am glad to hear of it.” A small smile graced Bard’s features. He paused and looked up when his name was called. “Please, excuse me.” He bowed to Thranduil. “I wish you safe travels back to the Woodland Realm, my lord.”

Thranduil inclined his head in acknowledgement and Bard took his leave of them, which left Fili to escort the Elven King back to his camp. They walked in silence to the East Gate and passed through, before the Elf turned to regard the young Dwarf at his side.

“I would thank you also for returning the gems to me,” he said, and Fili stopped and looked up. “Their beauty aside, they have much sentimental value to me.”

“Thorin didn’t say much about them.”

“No. No I suppose he didn’t…. They were made for my wife.”

Another moment of silence passed between them before Fili spoke. “I am sorry for your loss.”

“And I for yours.” Thranduil paused then. “I notice you do not wear the crown, though for all intents and purposes, you are the King Under the Mountain.”

Fili shifted a bit uncomfortably under the elf’s clear gaze. “That crown was never mine to wear. I don’t feel I am ready to bear it. Perhaps I will arrange a coronation after I receive my mother’s blessing, or perhaps I will name her Queen and let her rule in my stead.”

Thranduil frowned. “For all his arrogance and pride, Thorin Oakenshield was no coward, nor did he raise his kin to be. You will not hide behind a throne when you are of far better use to your people upon it. Your mother would agree.”

Fili sighed. “She would. I thank you for your confidence in me.”

“Your actions so far have proved that you put the needs of your people first. That is a good sign. You will do well.” The Elven King stopped at the outskirts of his camp, where the remaining army of Mirkwood was slowly packing up to leave. He gave a slight bow and turned to leave, when he stopped suddenly and turned around as another thought struck him. “Just one more thing…”

Fili looked up. “Yes, my lord?”

“The former Captain of my Guard, Tauriel. I understand you offered her shelter in Erebor.”

“I have. She saved my brother’s life. I wanted to repay her kindness.”

“I see.” He seemed to nod to himself, and Fili thought he saw something close to sadness in his eyes. “Look after her. Elves may not die, but…” His sigh made Fili’s heart ache a little. “Look after her.”

“I will,” Fili promised.

They bowed to each other, and Fili made his way back up to Erebor alone.

Chapter Text

The fishermen of Laketown who survived Smaug’s burning returned to the Long Lake three days after the dragon’s body was burned. The few boats that had brought the survivors to its shores still remained where they had left them, and despite the chill of winter they took to the waters to see what, if any, fish remained that they could catch. For while the Elven King promised that the peoples of Dale and Erebor would not go hungry or cold through the winter, those of Laketown were very familiar with the sudden harsh storms that came from the North that could halt the passage of any caravan bringing supplies to the Mountain.

So it was that Bard had decided to try the lake in the hopes that they could stockpile fish in the event of the storms that would inevitably come. Fili had agreed, and had even supplied the rods and lines to the fishermen, along with his blessing for a good catch, before retreating back into the Mountain to hear the latest reports from the Company and Dain about how human and dwarf were co-existing so far.

“The few dissenters amongst the lake people are being kept quiet by the majority,” Nori said. “And the chance of being exiled out into the cold has so far kept tempers at bay.”

“Well, that and the labour down at Dale,” Dain added. “The poor buggers are too exhausted to start fighting with each other, and hard as it is to believe, a few of ‘em are actually starting to get along.”

Fili nodded. “That is what I had hoped for.”

Dain eyed his younger cousin. “You’re a shrewd lad, I’ll give ye that. Thorin’s raised you well.”

“That’s very kind, cousin, thank you.” Fili turned to Bofur. “What of the mines and the forges?”

“The mines are well enough. There’s good ore down there that we can tap into if we can rig a couple of lifts to get some dwarves down there to do it. The forges are a little less well off. Don’t know what you boys did down there, but one of the furnaces is completely destroyed and another’s been damaged. So we only have one working furnace, but the irrigation systems are… well…” Bofur sighed. “We need to get that fixed first.”

“We were being chased by a dragon, alright?” Gloin grumbled. “It was Thorin’s idea.”

“Just like it was his idea to drown it in gold.” Dori remarked.

Dwalin let out a growl. “And if it wasn’t for him, Smaug would be picking bits of you out of his teeth right now.”

Fili sighed. “Enough.” The room went silent. “Cousin Dain, would a few of your men be willing to help some of my Company clear the forges in return for some compensation?”

“They’ll do it if I say they’ll do it, compensation or not,” the red-bearded Dwarf declared.

“Nonetheless, I would reward them in some way. We have far too much gold in our treasury, and you will need to be able to buy supplies for journey back to the Iron Hills.” Fili pretended not to notice how some of the Company shifted at the mention of the gold. Dwarves would always be Dwarves, he supposed.

Dain nodded. “I’ll find some boys to help ye, don’t worry.”

Fili returned the nod. “Then let’s fix the irrigation first and get the working furnace going, and then try to repair the other. At the very least they’ll generate some heat, and we’re going to need all the warmth we can get once the storms hit.” There were murmurs of agreement among the Dwarves and Fili turned to Balin. “Let’s take a break for now.”

“Very well, my king.”

Fili thanked him with a small smile and left the council room. He needed some air and time to clear his head after listening to nothing but squabbling dwarves all day, and inevitably found himself heading to the upper levels; to one of the guard rooms that overlooked the gate, and beyond to the city of Dale. It was still mostly in disrepair, but the roof had been fixed, and someone had swept the snow off the balcony.

Stepping out onto the parapet, he soon saw who it was.

“A bit cold out here for a hobbit, is it not, Master Baggins?”

Bilbo looked up. “Ah, Master Fili… or begging your pardon, it should be ‘Your Highness’ now, shouldn’t it?”

The young Dwarf sighed. “No, please. Do call me Fili. I miss hearing my name. Everyone now addresses me with some honourific, even the Company… well, some of them anyway.” Fili leaned his arms on the low wall and looked out across to Dale. “I begin to understand why you miss your Shire. Life was simpler in the West.”

Bilbo stood beside him. “Do you regret coming on this quest?”

“I would not call it regret, but I wish things had turned out differently. There were some terrible choices made and…” He shut his eyes for a moment, his head bowed. “I would give up every last piece of treasure in this mountain if it meant I could have just a few more moments with Thorin and Kili. Every bit of it, Bilbo.”

The hobbit rubbed his arm gently. “I know, Fili. I miss them, too. Every day I wake up and I see things that make me think of them, or think of things that I want to tell them, and then I remember they’re... not here.” He wrapped an arm around Fili’s shoulders, caring nothing for propriety, and Fili let him. “I am glad you’re here though.”

“I’m glad you agreed to stay till Spring.” The dwarf canted a half-smile in the halfling’s direction. “I know you want to go home.”

“Oh, well…” Bilbo removed his arm and wrapped his cloak a little tighter around his body. “I never did like travelling in the winter. Too cold and-”

He was interrupted by a small flock of ravens taking to the skies from down where the lake was, their harsh cries carrying through the shrill air. One broke away from the group and headed to the mountain, and Fili straightened as he raised his arm for the bird to alight on. “What troubles you, friend?”

Bilbo had always been fascinated by the ability of the Dwarves of Durin’s Line to speak to the ravens of Erebor, and as he watched Fili listen to the sharp croons and caws of the black bird, he saw the young dwarf’s face pale before he launched the raven back into the air.

“Sound the alarms!” he called, leaning over the wall to shout to the guards. “Assemble the warriors!” He turned to Bilbo and started to lead him back inside as the bells clanged within the Mountain and echoed all the way to Dale. “C’mon Master Baggins.”

“W-What’s going on?” Bilbo asked as he hurried to keep pace with the king. “What’s happening?”

“Orcs have appeared between the lake and Dale. They were moving in the forest, but they disturbed the ravens. They may be preparing to attack Dale. It’s undefended.”

“The lake and Dale,” Bilbo echoed as they saw Dain, Balin, and Dwalin approaching ahead. Then he stopped short and grabbed Fili’s arm. “Fili!” His eyes were wide. “The fishermen! They must be attacking the fishermen!”

Fili cursed as Dain reached them. “What’s going on lad?” the lord of the Iron Hills asked.

“Orcs. A band has been spotted at Long Lake, close to Dale. The fishermen may be in danger. What mounts do we have?” He asked, even as they all turned as one to the gates, dodging Dwarves and Dale-folk alike as they scrambled to where they needed to be.

“We still have a few goats, and Bard took his horse, but that’s all that are left,” Dain replied, and Fili felt his heart sink at how poor their defenses were.

“Dwalin, take what can be spared and get a squadron to the lake,” he ordered, and the tall dwarf grunted in affirmation before running off to do as told. “Dain, have a second group of infantry ready. I will lead them after-”

“You will do no such thing, lad.” Dain said. “You’re still not battle ready. I’ll lead them out.” And then he was off, even as a chorus of horns and the clatter of hooves signalled the departure of Dwalin’s troup.”

Fili growled in frustration as he rounded on Balin and Bilbo. “Our people are out there, I can’t just let them… I can’t sit in the Mountain and do nothing till everyone comes back! I need to be out there fighting with them!”

“Your body is still healing, Fili, please see reason.” Balin laid a comforting hand on his arm. “You can still reopen your back wound, or re-injure bones that are still healing. They will not thank you if they have to look after you as well as the fishermen.”

“What about the workers in Dale?” Bilbo asked, ignoring Balin’s frown. “I know Bard’s with them, and they know to make for the Mountain when they hear the bells, but he could probably use some help with evacuating them back here.”

“The workers. Right.”

Fili was off before Balin could stop him, running at a light trot to the stables where, thankfully, one goat remained and was already saddled and waiting for him. He swung himself into the saddle and was just about to gallop over the bridge after the rearguard of Dain’s infantry when a familiar voice rang out.

“Fili!”

He pulled up just before the bridge to see Sigrid running towards him, and he tried not to focus too much on how his heart quickened just a little bit at the sight of her. “Sigrid?”

“Are you going to Dale?”

“I’m going to help Bard evacuate the workers out,” he replied, even as the more quick-footed of them were already reaching the gate.

Her eyes were still distressed as she looked at him. “He took Tilda with him this morning; she likes watching the Dwarves work. Please make sure she’s alright.”

Fili sat up a little straighter. “Of course, my lady Sigrid. I shall make sure no harm comes to her.” He kicked the goat into motion and was over the bridge in a few bounds.

As he rode, he passed a steady stream of cold and dusty workers - human and dwarf alike - rushing back to the safety of Erebor, and a part of him was glad to see they were all following procedure - three abreast, the weaker in the middle, tools at the ready to be used as weapons should they be attacked along the way. So far there were no disturbances which meant the Dwarven soldiers were keeping the orcs busy for now.

Maybe he’d overcompensated a bit, he thought. He knew Dwalin could easily take on a few dozen orcs and come out unscathed, but it was better to be safe - there could be more hiding in the woods, waiting in ambush.

“King Fili!”

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he startled when Bard hailed him from atop his horse as he moved back and forth along the line of evacuating workers.

“Lord Bard,” he returned. “How goes-.”

“Tilda’s missing.”

Fili never slowed his pace as he rode through the gates. “I’ll find her!”

Dale’s streets were dusted with a layer of snow, and rubble still lay strewn across them, but Fili’s goat was a sure-footed animal and bounded over and on top of them effortlessly. He rose up in the saddle trying to scan for a glimpse of golden hair between the flame-scorched walls, and trying to think of where he might find her quickest.

“Tilda?!” He galloped towards the market square where he knew the Dwarves had been working to fortify the Great Hall and the two annexed houses that would become Bard and his family’s main residence in time to come. “Tilda!” He urged the goat up the street. “Tilda, where are you?! It’s Fili!” The goat snorted and turned sharply to the right before he could guide it, making for the broken, little merry-go-round, and he looked about. “Tilda!”

“Fili!”

He stopped the goat beside the ride just as a little golden head looked over one of the animal figures. Her eyes were wide as she sought him, and even from here, he could see that she trembled. Quickly he dismounted and went to her, only for her to break from her cover and fly into his arms. She was still an inch or two shorter than him, so he was able to hug her close rather easily, knowing from the way she was breathing that she was trying not to cry.

“It’s alright lass, it’s okay. I’m here.” He stroked her hair gently.

“I… I heard the bells. And everyone started running.” She clung to him and he tried not to wince as it hurt his still healing back. “Is another dragon coming? Is it going to burn Dale and the Mountain again?”

Fili blinked, and then he understood. Of course she would think of a dragon. The last time she had heard bells ringing was before Smaug had descended on Laketown, and that hadn’t been all too long ago, even if to him, it felt like a lifetime. He shifted in her embrace, trying to ease the pain in his back even as he patted hers, reminded suddenly of how he used to do this for Kili in their younger days whenever his little brother had gotten scared. Tears stung at his eyes and he fought to keep them at bay.

“No, little one,” he said and his voice caught in his throat. He coughed. “No.” Clearer this time. “There’s no dragon coming. There are no more dragons. We just needed to get everyone back to the mountain. That means us, too.” He held an arm out and the goat trotted over, nosing his hand. “Look,” he nudged the girl. “You’re going to sit on my friend here, and he’s going to carry you back. Would you like that?”

Tilda finally pulled away from him to stare at the goat, and Fili took a deep breath when the pain abated. “What if I fall?” she asked. “I’ve never ridden a pony before, let alone a goat.”

“Oh, goats are far safer to ride than ponies. And you won’t fall, I’ll be right beside you the whole time.” He helped her on to the animal’s back. “Now, you hold on tight to the saddle, and you’ll be quite safe.” He took the reins and began to lead them back to the Northern Gate, chatting to her as he did, so as to keep her attention on him and away from thoughts of dragons and falling.

She was quiet for a while, as she overcame her apprehension of riding the war-goat, but slowly her fear passed, and she began to ask questions.

“Do all Dwarves ride goats?” she asked.

“Yes, if we have them,” Fili answered.

“Even the ladies?”

“Especially the ladies. They only ride on the biggest, most majestic rams.”

“But why don’t you ride horses? Or, well, ponies?”

Fili smiled. “We do, now and then, but remember, most Dwarf colonies live in the mountains, with lots of steep slopes and rocky outcrops that ponies cannot climb. Goats however, can trot up those like a horse would trot on a plain, and they’re smaller and easier to stable inside mountain caves.”

“Oh.” She took a moment to process this. “Can you teach me to ride a goat?”

The young king laughed at this. “That would depend on your Da, lass. And even if he says yes, it would only be for a little while. Once your legs get longer, you wouldn’t be able to ride a fellow like this anyway.”

“Then I don’t want to grow tall,” she said resolutely. “I want to stay the size of a Dwarf and ride war-goats with all of you.”

“And we would be honored to have you, my lady Tilda, but that is up to your body to decide in the end.”

She pouted for a moment, but it was short-lived when a shout came from up ahead, and they looked up to see Bard jumping off his horse and running towards them.

“Tilda!”

“Da!” Fili helped the little girl down and watched as she ran to her father, Bard scooping her into his arms and holding her close.

“Thank goodness you’re safe. Are you hurt at all?”

“I’m fine, Da. I’m not hurt. I hid.”

“She heard the bells,” Fili said, coming up with the goat and giving the bowman a meaningful look.

“I see.” Bard nodded in understanding. “That was very clever of you, Tilda.” He hugged her once more. “And now it is time we went home.” Fili followed as the man walked back to his horse and placed the child upon it, before turning to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, for looking after my children once more.”

“They are dear to me as well, my lord Bard.”

They turned to their mounts and swung themselves into saddles, Tilda seated behind her father and holding him around the middle. Fili drew up beside their horse, anxious to know the outcome of the skirmish and what had become of the fishermen, and as they rode back to the Mountain together, he saw the Dwarven army marching on ahead of them, the last of them going through the gates as they trotted up the path to the bridge.

Sigrid stood there with Dwalin, and as they neared, Fili could see how anxious she was. That soon melted into relief when she saw Tilda peeping out from behind her father, and she ran out to meet them.

“Da! Tilda! I was so worried!” She stopped by her father’s horse and helped her younger sister off it’s back, Tilda hugging her around the neck.

Fili couldn’t look at them. They reminded him too much of Kili and himself, when they were young, carefree dwarrows in the Blue Mountains; him teaching Kili to ride the few mountain goats and ponies the errand riders or trade escorts used, and helping him off Thorin’s pony after their uncle had given him a ride to cheer him up. He still felt their loss far too keenly - Kili’s especially - and it was all he could do to hold his tears in. A king could not cry in front of his kingdom, crowned or not.

He dismounted and handed the reins of his goat to the guards that had run up to collect his mount and Bard’s horse, patting the animal on the flank as it was led away. “Give it a good feed tonight,” he said. “It did well.”

“Fili found me!” Tilda exclaimed as she turned from recounting her tale to wave an arm at him.

“He’s the King of Erebor now, Tilda,” Bard said. “You must start addressing him as such.”

“She can call me Fili, it’s alright,” Fili said quickly. “In fact, I wish you all would. It’s still my name. And you all knew me as Fili long before I became king of anything.”

“We shall then,” Sigrid said quickly. “At least informally, when it’s just amongst us and the Company.”

Bard chuckled as he fell in between his daughters. “Ever the diplomat. Very well, Sigrid, but only if you all call me by name as well, for I have only been a lord for about three weeks.”

Fili nodded with a smile, and then turned to Dwalin as the humans made their way across the bridge and into Erebor. “What of the orcs?”

“A rabble if there ever was one. Probably survivors of the battle. Cowardly scum must have run off when they saw the tide turn from their favor. Not more than about 50 of them in total. Well, they’ll not be giving us anymore trouble. We burned the carcasses.”

“But where did they come from?” Fili frowned. “They had to have been hiding somewhere. Fifty is no small number, Dwalin.”

“They were probably scattered throughout the forest.” The tall dwarf shrugged, and Fili didn’t press him for more.

“What of the fishermen?” he asked instead.

Dwalin’s face grew grim and Fili was a bit sorry he’d asked. “Two were killed. From their story, the Orcs attacked them once they’d reached the shore with their catch. The ravens alerted them and they were able to close ranks and retreat into the water - Orcs have no love of it - but the two lost their nerve and tried to make a run for it. The orcs had already cut them down by the time we arrived to help them.”

Fili nodded somberly. “And the bodies?”

“The fishermen set them aflame on a raft and cast it out to the lake. Said it was their custom; we didn’t stop them.” Dwalin rubbed the top of his head. “They said they’d deliver the news to whatever kin remained.” He sighed. “It’s just a sad business.”

“We will compensate their families.” He held up a hand when Dwalin looked to be about to speak. “They risked their lives trying to find food to feed the Mountain. It is only right their families do not suffer from their loss. It’s bad enough they’ve lost a loved one.”

Dwalin clapped him gently on the shoulder as they entered Erebor. “Aye, lad. I understand.”

==========

That evening as the Company ate in the room they used for meals, Fili picked at his bowl of mutton stew and flatbread, finishing only half of it before pushing his chair back and declaring he was retiring to his room for the night. His remaining meal was gladly accepted by Bombur, who wished him a peaceful rest before tucking in to the extra serving. The rest of the Company, too, bade him goodnight, but only one pair of eyes watched him go.

Yet, no matter how high he stoked the fire, and how much he tossed and turned in his bed, sleep would not come to him.

His mind raced with a dozen different things, and it was only when he caught himself thinking about how soon they could start brewing ale, that he finally gave up. Pulling on his boots and wrapping himself in a thick coat, he left his room and walked quietly - for a Dwarf at least - through the Mountain. He let his feet carry him, listening to the sounds of the stone as he walked, until at last, a gleam of gold caught his eye.

He blinked at the sea of it that stretched as far as he could see, piles upon piles of gold and silver - in coins, ingots, plates, cups, and a myriad other things - dotted with gems and crystals.

When had he even come down to the treasury?

Unbidden, he remembered his uncle, remembered the red gem he had thrown to him when he had welcomed his newly-arrived nephews to Erebor. And he remembered watching him succumb. His once-proud uncle walking like a hunchback under the weight of the fur and crown, growling at shadows and snapping at friends, looking at them with distrust, accusing them of betrayal.

Thorin had been so strong, and yet he had fallen so easily to the sickness. It ran in his line, and if Thorin could not resist, how could Fili?

Even now, he could hear its call. The echoes bounced off the pillars and into his mind, beckoning him closer. Just a step, and another. This was his gold after all. All of it, down to the last coin. It was his to cherish. He stopped at the edge of the stone landing. One jump and he would be surrounded by its warmth. He didn’t have to part with it. Once Dale was rebuilt, the humans could do their own trade, build their own riches. Erebor owed them nothing; it was already sheltering them, and that was more than any Dwarf in the past had offered.

He shut his eyes. He could see it burn like flames on the back of his eyelids. And still it called to him.

“Fili?”

The young Dwarf’s eyes snapped open at the quiet voice behind him. “Bilbo…”

The hobbit watched him - the way he stood stiff and rigid on the ledge, shoulders tensed and head bowed - and shifted nervously on his bare feet, his hand automatically going to his pocked. He tensed when the dwarf turned round to look at him.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Bilbo’s breath left him in a sigh as he relaxed.

Fili’s kind blue eyes were clear, if just a little sad, but held no trace of the cold glaze that Thorin’s had when he’d been under the thrall of the gold. Bilbo sat down on a step in relief, scrubbing a hand over his face, all the while being watched by the young king as he fidgeted and tried to settle.

“Are you alright?” Fili asked him.

Bilbo looked up. “I should be asking you that question.”

“I’m not gold-sick.”

The hobbit gave a short, humourless laugh. “Yes, I see. And I am glad for that. One dwarf under its thrall was…” He broke off and looked away, and Fili heard the words catch in his throat. “It was quite enough… I would have hated to lose you to it as well.”

Fili moved to sit beside him. “What my uncle did at the gate. I am sorry, and not just for him. I should have protected you better, defended you more fervently.”

“Fili, it’s alright. There was no real harm done, and he snapped out of it eventually. He even revoked my banishment before he…” Bilbo swallowed tightly, grief pinching his features.

“Nonetheless, I will have it officially done in writing.” Fili steered the conversation away. “Ori can draft up something for me and Balin to sign.”

“Thank you.”

They sat in silence for a while. Fili could still feel the pull of the gold, but it had no effect on him. There was no warmth in it like there was in a good bowl of Bombur’s stew. Nor was it soft like the scarf Ori had knitted him. And the hair on the heads of Sigrid and Tilda shone far brighter than anything in this vast hall. No, he would not succumb to its call, but he needed to weaken its power lest it ensnare a Dwarf less resistant than himself.

“We need to get rid of this,” he said. “There’s too much here, and as long as it remains, it is a danger to any Dwarf who sets foot here.”

Bilbo cleared his throat and stood. “Well, whatever you’re planning, why don’t you run it by me in the comfort of my room, hmm? I managed to snag some of Dori’s chamomile tea, so let’s get out of this fiendishly cold hall and help ourselves to some.”

Fili got to his feet as well. “Lead the way, Master Baggins.”

The hobbit all but scampered up the stairs away from the treasury and Fili followed at a more sedate pace until they were finally in the residence corridor. Bilbo pushed open the door to his room, and once Fili was inside, set about stoking up the fire and setting a kettle of water to boil while he grabbed cups and popped the pouches of tea inside them.

As he did so, Fili helped himself to a sheet of parchment, ink and quill, sat down on the end of the bed, and began scribbling. Bilbo poured the boiling water into the cups and tilted his head curiously at the dwarf as he drew, waiting for the tea to steep. He added a spoon of honey to each, then stirred the drink and brought one of the cups to Fili, who thanked him.

“What are you drawing?” Bilbo asked finally, after peering at the mess of lines and squiggles.

“Just a map of the area. I was wondering something about today’s orc attack. Dwalin said there were about 50 of them and they were hiding in the woods…”

“But you don’t think they were?”

“No. It would have been harder to coordinate an attack if they were too spread out, and had they all clustered together in one part of the forest, the ravens would have spotted them sooner.” He shook his head and spread his map out flat, so Bilbo could get a better look. “There’s only one place that many orcs could have hidden without anyone seeing them.”

Bilbo looked up at Fili, having come to the same conclusion. “Laketown.”

“I fear so. The town is in ruins, thanks to Smaug, and even after we destroyed his body, none of the survivors were keen to go back. It’s nothing but a husk - lots of burnt and abandoned houses. Easy camouflage for orcs, especially since no one really wants to scout it out. Not even Bard.”

“But we can’t just leave it there, can we?” They sipped their tea and Bilbo continued. “I mean, if one pack of orcs took cover there, what’s to say more won’t?”

“Precisely,” Fili said with a sigh. “Which is why we have to destroy Laketown.”

Bilbo nearly choked on his tea. “Pardon me?”

“We can’t leave it to the orcs, Bilbo, you know this.”

“Yes, of course I do, but to destroy it? Wouldn’t the humans protest?”

“They will, and I will ask for Bard’s counsel on the matter, but the buildings cannot be left to give refuge to orcs that would threaten the safety of both Dale and Erebor. I will offer compensation accordingly.”

The hobbit hummed as he continued to sip on his tea, watching the young dwarf over the rim of his cup. He drank his own tea as if under a trance, and though he was physically present in the room, Bilbo figured his mind was a thousand leagues away, and he could only guess at what was going on in the dwarf’s head.

He felt sad for Fili. Thrust into the position of king at such a young age, with only a few lessons from his uncle to go on, losing his uncle and brother so violently and not even being able to mourn them properly; being injured himself… Bilbo wouldn’t blame him if he did give himself to the gold-sickness just to escape the burden on his shoulders.

“There’s more, isn’t there?”

Fili looked up. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve got something else in mind as well,” Bilbo elaborated.

The dwarf ran a hand through his golden hair. “Today’s skirmish has shown me just how under-powered we are. Both Erebor and Dale. If another host were to attack us now, we would be destroyed.”

Bilbo paled just a bit. “But surely Dain wouldn’t just leave you to fend for yourself, at least not until your mother and the rest of her Dwarves arrive?”

“He would not. And I know some of his soldiers wish to stay as well. But there is much we still lack. Dale’s Folk are not soldiers; they do not have an army, and while we have a decent number of foot-soldiers, neither we, nor Dale have any kind of cavalry. A handful of war-goats, that is all, and some of them will return to the Iron Hills, come Spring. The humans have only Bard’s horse.”

They sat in silence then, both considering the outcome should they be attacked now. Thranduil would aid them, of course, but the Woodland Realm was still a distance away, and swift though they were, the Elves would still take a few days to reach them. No, Dale and Erebor could not always rely on Mirkwood to help them. They had to be able to defend themselves, and part of that defense was having strong, sturdy animals that could help break a siege of infantry.

“What are you going to do?”

Fili smiled a bit, that same smile Bilbo remembered before he came face to face with a trio of trolls, and he wasn’t sure whether to feel glad Fili still had it, or nervous.

“The Kingdom of Erebor boasts the greatest treasure hoard of gold and precious gems in Middle-earth,” he said. “The Kingdom of Rohan has some of the finest horses in the land, and as it so happens, its people are distant kin to the folk of Dale. I think perhaps a trade of some kind is in order.” His smile widened a bit at Bilbo’s wide-eyed expression. “I wasn’t completely idle in Rivendell, you know. Nor was I completely asleep during Balin’s political lessons as a youngster.”

“That’s…” Bilbo chuckled. “That’s actually good to know.” He leaned back in his chair - wishing for a moment for his comfy armchair in Bag End. “So you plan to send a group of humans and Dwarves across half of Middle-earth to buy horses.”

“I do indeed.”

“And this is not just a way of spending as much of the gold as you can in order to lessen the spell of the gold-sickness?”

Fili’s expression darkened just a little. “I will not make the same mistakes as my ancestors. There is too much temptation in that gold, and already it has touched a few of the Company.” He thought of Gloin and Dori, though he was a little surprised to see Nori unaffected. He supposed having it all just there for the taking was not as appealing to the thief. “If I can’t get rid of it all, then the least I can do is reduce the strength of its lure.”

==========

Chapter Text

He will make a wise king yet, Bilbo thought as he watched Fili carefully negotiate with Bard, Dain, the Company, and a few other human advisers the next day. As expected, Bard was none too happy about Fili’s proposed action for Laketown, but he saw the sense in it and offered to personally oversee the demolishing of what was left, something Fili was happy to let him handle.

“We can see to the rebuilding and resettlement of Laketown once Dale’s reconstruction is near completion,” he said, which seemed to satisfy a couple of uncertain fishermen.

The discussion of horses and other mounts for the peoples of the region was met with a bit more enthusiasm, even from Gloin, Bilbo noted, who was already drawing up accounts and calculating the costs of feeding and housing such animals. Clearly safety took precedence over hoarded gold. He saw Balin smile proudly in Fili’s direction, and when he caught his eye, the old dwarf winked. They were both proud of him. Thorin would have been, too, went unspoken in the sad smile they exchanged.

“I wonder if old Beorn couldn’t spare us some chickens and sheep,” Bofur spoke up. “For eggs and wool of course, not for eatin’,” he added quickly.

Fili nodded. “That’s a good idea. Send a raven to ask him.”

“And as for Rohan, who would you propose we send on this journey?” Bard asked. “It will be a long road there and back.”

To their surprise, Bifur rose from his seat. “With your leave, my King, I would like to go. I know those paths south of the Misty Mountains.”

“I’ve a few dwarrows keen on getting away from this winter as well,” Dain said. “They’re good lads with good heads on their shoulders.”

“Percy?” Bard regarded the former toll collector who had become something of his deputy.

“Aye, Bard. I’ll go with ‘em. Might be nice to get out and see the world when I can.”

“Good. Then take Bain with you. It’s time he learned diplomacy, and more of what lies beyond our borders.”

Ori looked up. “But isn’t Lady Sigrid your heiress?” he asked the bowman innocently.

“Aye, she is. However, she has expressed her desire to remain here, to keep an eye on things, she said.” The man looked over at Fili, who felt a blush rise to his cheeks. “I was not inclined to argue. She has the stubbornness to match a Dwarf.”

There were some affectionate laughs throughout the room, as all present held a fondness for Bard’s eldest child, and Fili rose, bringing the meeting to an end and thanking them for their presence. As he filed out of the room with Balin and Bilbo, he thought he saw a brief flash of copper-red hair, and he was reminded then of Thranduil’s words at their last meeting.

“Bilbo,” he murmured, and the hobbit paused. “May I have a quick word.”

“Of course, Fili, what do you need?”

They moved off to the side, Fili looking down the hall in thought before facing the hobbit. “Would you be able to do me a favor? You see, we have a guest in our halls, and I believe she’s very lonely. I know I asked you to aid us with crop growing here in the Mountain. I wonder if you might not seek her assistance in the matter.”

Bilbo smiled wryly at him. “In other words, keep an eye on Tauriel and make sure she’s occupied. Yes, I can do that.” He paused, then looked at Fili. “Did she love him?”

Fili smiled sadly. “Yes. She did.”

“Then we have our work cut out for us.”

==========

Bree was a strange place, Fili thought to himself as he looked around the inn they were staying in for the night. In front of him, Kili was wolfing down the bread, cheese and slice of meat he had bought, as if he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in days, which was somewhat true, Fili admitted as he nursed his pint, his own meal devoured a mere minutes ago.

Humans, Hobbits and the occasional Dwarf milled about the place, coming and going. Rangers with their longbows that Kili gazed at longingly, Hobbits carrying barrels of ale that were almost as big as they were.

He was broken from his musings when Kili gave a loud belch and sat back, wiping his mouth on his shirt sleeve and grinning at his brother.

“That wasn’t too bad,” he said. “Could do with another though.”

“Kili…” he started.

“I know, I know. Don’t spend on more than we can afford.” The dark-haired Dwarf sighed and let his eyes follow the serving girl as she passed by with a bowl of broth for another table.

Fili rolled his eyes and fished in his pocket, before pulling out a small pouch and tossing it to his brother. Kili caught it in mid-air without so much as batting an eye. “It’ll take the edge off.”

“You’re the best, brother!” Kili immediately had his pipe out and was stuffing it with what remained of the tobacco, making sure to leave some for Fili as he handed the pouch back.

They lit their pipes and smoked in silence for a while, content to merely watch the other patrons and workers of the inn as they went about their evening. Outside, the rain had stopped, though the chill remained in the air, but inside was warm and homely enough to warrant them sitting and relaxing before they finally turned in for the night.

“You lads interested in some company?”

Both brothers startled as they looked up at the young human woman that stood before them clad in red and black with dark hair cascading in soft curls down her shoulders. Before either of them could answer, she sat beside Kili, a coy smile playing on her lips as she reached up to touch his hair.

Kili caught her hand before she could. “That’d be a tad improper for a Dwarf, miss,” he said.

“I ain’t no Dwarf, and per’aps I’m lookin’ to be improper.” She rested her hand back down on the table. “Heard it’s goin’ to be a cold night out tonight.” Her eyes raked over Fili.

“I’m sure the innkeeper would have made arrangements for extra firewood to be sent to our room,” Fili replied politely, though he appreciated the attention.

Neither of them were fools. Their mother had been very thorough in teaching them about adulthood and everything that came with it, and Oin had filled in the rest.

“Doubt I’ll be able to say the same for my room,” she said. “Would be mighty grateful if either one of ya could help a lady out… or the both of ya, if you’re alright with that.”

Fili still smiled in amusement as Kili blushed at the proposition, because it was one thing to hear about the ways of the world from one's elders, and another thing to experience it in person. The dark-haired Dwarf squirmed as he tried to put a bit more space between himself and the maid, and Fili knew that as much as Kili liked to flirt with females - race didn’t seem to matter to him - he had no intentions of bedding one just yet.

“I’m afraid we’d be rather poor company, lass,” he said, letting his brown eyes grow just a little bit sad. “You see, my brother and I have ridden long and hard, and we’re quite worn out.”

“And we’re on the verge of sleep as we speak,” Fili added. “It would be no way to treat a nice young maiden such as yourself.”

Sensing she was not getting anywhere with them, the woman rose with a resigned sigh. “If you change your minds, I’ll find you.” She walked off, blowing them a kiss over her shoulder.

Fili and Kili smiled and nodded to her in acknowledgement, before Kili gave a soft laugh and knocked the ash out of his pipe, pocketing it after.

“Well, that was flattering,” he said.

Fili copied his brother, then got to his feet as well. “Indeed. We should probably head up before others decide to be more forward that she was.”

“Do you think she was telling the truth though?” Kili asked as he followed. “About her room not being warm enough? Maybe we should give her some of our firewood supply.”

Fili chuckled; Kili had always been far too kind-hearted. “Oh, I’m sure she’ll find ways to keep warm tonight.”

Their room, when they entered, was ironically a little too warm, and Kili opened a window to let in some of the cool night air, leaning to look outside and up to the sky.

“At least it’s cleared some,” he said. “The stars are out. How cold they must be all the way up there, remote and far away from everything else. I wonder if they get lonely.”

“Listen to you, being all poetic,” Fili said with a good-natured smile as he sat on his bed and pulled off his boots. “Careful, you might end up with a dozen dwarrowdams dueling for your hand if you go around saying things like that in Ered Luin.”

Kili chuckled, though Fili noted the touch of self-depreciation that colored it. “Worry more for yourself, brother. It’s you they have their eye on. I, on the other hand, do not appeal to the taste of Dwarf-women.” His grin grew mischievous. “Maybe one day I’ll settle down with a nice human girl, or a halfling maiden. Or perhaps even an elf-maid - Uncle would love that.”

Fili snorted. “Oh yes, indeed. You two could sit in the trees and look at the stars together, and write poems about how their light seems to fill the air.” He got under the blankets and leaned back against his pillows. “That cold air is numbing your brain. Close that window and go to bed. We still have a few days’ ride ahead of us.”

“Yes, Amad.” The younger of the two stepped back and pulled the shutters in before kicking off his boots and hopping into his own bed.

Later that night, as Fili climbed the stairs back to their room after answering nature’s call, he passed a very smug-looking Nori closing the door to another room before securing the lacings on his trousers. He looked up as Fili stopped at his own door.

“She was feeling cold,” he said as he sauntered on his way.

Fili only sighed and went back to bed.

==========

Chapter Text

Mid-winter saw the arrival of a small caravan of Elves, bringing with them not just food and medicines, but blankets, and building supplies like timber and rope which had been in rather short supply in the mountain.

“A gift from Beorn the Skinchanger, who has heard of your reconstruction efforts and wished to help,” the leader of the Elven party informed Fili as they oversaw the unpacking and sorting of the goods.

“I will send a raven to convey my gratitude for his generosity,” Fili replied. “And please give my lord Thranduil my thanks as well, for the supplies from his own kingdom.”

The elf nodded and turned away with a curt bow to help the small group unpack the wagons.

Fili, meanwhile, looked over some of the food and medicine that had been sent. Thranduil had indeed been generous, even including three bottles of wine, ‘for the king’s personal use’ the note said. He shook his head. One would suffice. The rest could be stored for use during special celebrations. Stacked next to the wine, however, was a crate full of small leaf-wrapped parcels that he had never seen before. The note merely stated, ‘for distribution in hard times.’

Curiously, he unwrapped one to find what looked to be a square, cake-like food that reminded him of the cram his mother used to make for Thorin to take on long journeys. Perhaps this was similar. Breaking a piece off, he popped it in his mouth. There was a wholesome sweetness to it, that made him considerably more revitalized than he had been a moment ago.

“It is called lembas,” a voice said, and Fili looked up at familiar shades of green and copper. “A type of elven bread eaten on long journeys. A few bites can strengthen a human for hours. Dwarves probably more so as they are slower to tire.”

“So, stock-piling then,” Fili said.

“Indeed. For days when food is low, and to risk the weather would mean death.”

“I will inform the kitchens of such. Thank you, Tauriel.” He turned to give the instruction to a young dwarf runner, before moving further down the line of goods. “They have been generous,” he murmured mostly to himself.

“You have been a good king,” Tauriel replied, and he looked up at her. “Don’t look so surprised. You may not have been king long, but you have made strong allegiances with people through your kindness and humility.”

Fili shook his head. “It still feels as if I’m just standing in place for someone else, and that one day, Thorin’s going to walk in and take over.”

“You just need a little more time to grow into the role. There are questions being asked amongst the people about when you will finally wear the crown like a rightful king should.”

“Not now. It's not even been a month; I've barely proved myself worthy of it. And I still wonder if I shouldn't name my mother as queen and step back into the role of prince that I am more suited to.”

Tauriel gave him a gentle smile. “That would upset all those loyal to your rule.”

“But she’s of the House of Durin as well. This is her rightful home.”

“Truly, but she is not the one who opened Erebor’s gates to the people of Dale, nor did she fight alongside Lord Dain and his soldiers, or show generosity to the Elven King.” She placed a hand on the dwarf’s shoulders and guided him away from the supplies, turning him towards Erebor’s kitchens. “When was the last time you ate?”

Fili ducked his head sheepishly. “I forgot the time once the wagons arrived. I wanted to see that the supplies were being put in order, and the Elves roomed for the duration of their stay.”

“You have people in charge of overseeing those things. Let them do their jobs.”

They entered the kitchens and Fili went about helping himself to some food, the cooks more than happy to load his plate up when they saw that he seemed to have an appetite about him again. One of them, Fili was pleased to see, even served up a bowl for Tauriel.

“Would you care to have this meal with me, my lady?” he asked. “I know a place where we can sit outside, undisturbed.”

“It would be my pleasure, your highness,” Tauriel replied.

Fili brought her to the upper guardhouse where he’d stood before with Bilbo, the day of the orc skirmish at the lake.

“Have you been treated well since you moved within the mountain?” he asked as he sat down.

“If you mean, has anyone been unkind to me, no.” She lowered herself gracefully to sit beside him. “Some of the humans still look on me in awe, and the Dwarves… have been courteous. Though I doubt they would extend that same courtesy to King Thranduil.”

“No, perhaps not,” Fili agreed. “However I am glad to hear that you have had no problems here.” Not that she would, if he had anything to say about it. He had also heard Dain yelling the ears off his soldiers that he would assign them the role of footstool should he hear of any of them being ungracious to the elven lady.

They ate in silence for a while, and Fili watched her out of the corner of his eye. For a week after the funeral, she had confined herself to her room and Fili, understanding her grief, had left her to herself, though the words of the Elven King still echoed in his mind. He need not have worried however, since shortly after, none other than Sigrid had approached her - first with little tasks she asked for help with (sharpening a blade, sewing a leather arm-guard) and later just as a friend. Sometimes she brought Tilda with her, the younger girl asking for Elven tales and songs.

Later, after Bilbo had gone to her, at his request, for advice on growing herbs and small plants within the mountain, she had been coming out of her rooms more often, usually to meet with the hobbit and oversee the care of said plants, in a room close to hers that they had set up for the purpose. It gladdened Fili’s heart to see her smile again, even if her green eyes still held deep wells of sadness, which he supposed were not unlike his own.

They both still missed Kili fiercely.

She still had a fragility about her that he didn’t remember her having the time she had come striding into Bard’s house, daggers at the ready, and killed half of the orcs that had been attacking them, and he wondered just how deep her love for Kili ran that she would let grief wither her away. Could Elves die of a broken heart, he wondered?

“Elves may be immortal, but we can die in battle,” she said as if she’d read his mind. “We can also fade.”

“Fade?” Fili paused with his fork to his mouth.

“Lose the will to live, to the point that our physical bodies start to diminish into something more… insubstantial, if there is nothing to still tie us to this world.”

“Like a ghost, then?”

“I suppose that is the closest a mortal can come to understanding it, and I do not mean it as an insult,” she said quickly. “Please do not misunderstand me.”

Fili smiled reassuringly. “No insult was taken, my lady, I promise.” He finished his last mouthful and put his empty plate away, chewing thoughtfully. “If you fade, would you be with Kili?” he asked once he swallowed.

Tauriel shook her head sadly. “No. I would remain here still, haunting whatever land my body diminished in, somewhere between life and death and unable to be seen by any mortal eyes.”

“That seems a very sad fate for one as fair and brave as you. It is not something Kili would want for you.” He placed a larger hand over her much slender one. “Please don’t fade. I pray you find something that would bind you to us, for a while.”

She held his hand in both of hers. “Maybe I have.” She smiled a little. “I don’t think I will ever love another the way I loved Kili, but you have become a dear friend to me, King Under the Mountain. Your kindness has helped to stay the fading, for a while.”

They both knew ‘a while’ would be longer for him than for her. He smiled back and leaned against her shoulder companionably, letting out a content sigh. She in turn put her arm around his shoulders. Together they watched life go on about the mountain. Workers came back up the road from Dale, even as another group of humans and dwarves marched from Erebor’s gates to start their own shift on the city’s repairs.

From where they sat, Fili thought he could see the city slowly coming back to life again as little by little, buildings were completed - walls built up brick by brick, and stone by stone, as tiles were laid and layered to form roofs. In his mind he could imagine the lower furnaces of Erebor working day and night to produce the materials they would need for the reconstruction, dwarves running to and fro transferring cooled bricks and tiles to barrows to be wheeled out to Dale, while others poured fresh clay mixture into the moulds to bake in the kilns. Other things they had started to produce as well - bowls, cups and plates, in clay for now, to be used in the mountain.

Soon, Fili thought. Soon they could go back to producing them in gold and silver, and ceramics, for trade with the south and west, and Dale could become just like in the stories Thorin and Balin told him and Kili many years ago when they still ate off wooden boards in the Blue Mountains.

“Fili,” Tauriel said after a moment.

“Yes, my lady?” he asked.

“Can you tell me a story about Kili?”

Fili chuckled. “Oh dear. Where should I start? There are many to tell, and not all of them suitable for a lady’s ears.” He grinned mischievously.

She laughed then. “Tell me about how Kili took up archery. That is not common amongst your people. I am curious to know how a Dwarf came to be so proficient with a bow and arrow.”

“Oh, that all started when Kili was about… hmm… 42 years old. Only just come of age a couple of years before that, and soon to begin training in his choice of weapons.” He smiled fondly. “Most Dwarves learn two weapons, so that should they be bereft of one, they can fall back on the other. Common choices would be the axe, hammer or sword, with spear or mace coming in after. Bows? Never.”

“I’ve seen young Ori use a slingshot.”

“Oh, aye. He’s good with that, but he was trained to use a hammer. He took up the slingshot on his own.” He gave a little frown. “Y’know I think that was Kili’s fault, too. Ori was only a couple of years younger than him, and took on the slight side as well. They were the runts of the family, to put it bluntly, but they had the sharpest eyes and the quickest reflexes. When Kili started mastering the slingshot, he taught Ori, too.”

“Kili had a kind heart.”

Fili smiled sadly. “One of the kindest. He always stood up or fought for those weaker than he was.”

Tauriel hugged the young dwarf close to her side. “So, the bow and arrow?” She steered the conversation to happier memories.

“Well, as I was saying, he’d just turned 42 and it was just one of those times where we’d been eating nothing but rabbit and pheasant for the longest time. Even Thorin was getting sick of it. We were on our way home having spent the night at Bree, to get out of the rain for the most part, and turned north-west to follow the borders of the Shire home, without actually wandering into their land.

“We were just south of Lake Evendim, near where it flowed out to become the Brandywine River as the Hobbits name it, and Kili got it into his head that maybe we could stop and try to catch some fish to bring home.”

“It can’t be that hard,” Kili said. “I’ve got some line, and I can probably use a bit of the bread we packed from Bree as bait.”

“You’re not a fisherman, Ki,” Fili said as his brother dismounted from his pony, fishing in his pocket for string as he went to the river’s edge to try and spot any fish. “Be careful! Amad will have my beard if anything happens to you.”

“She won’t scold if she doesn’t know. Stop worrying, Fi, and try and find me a nice long stick.”

Grumbling at the stubborn streak Kili seemed to have inherited from their uncle, Fili dismounted and secured the ponies to one of the many trees that lined the river bank on both sides, and then cast about for a fallen branch they could use as a rod.

Kili skirted the edge as his clever hands quickly whittled a hook out of a piece of wood, sheathing his boot knife when he was done and tying it to his string. He stuck a small ball of bread on the hook, then cast the line into the water. What he hadn’t counted on was having to stand still wait till something nibbled.

It was a clear summer day, the previous night’s rain seeming to have washed everything clear, and after standing around with his line, Kili started to grow impatient, fidgeting on the bank and thinking of the dozen other things he could be doing. Fili had passed him a stick to tie his line to, and had gone back to water and groom their ponies, and Kili had half a mind to drive his stick into the ground and join him, when he felt a tug on the line.

Surprised and thrilled, he yanked the stick up to find a wriggling fish on the end, and he spun around to show it off to his brother. He hadn’t counted on the ground, made softer by the rain, giving way under him as his boot slipped on the mud and he pitched backwards into the river.

Fili turned at the sound of the splash in time to see his brother swept downstream. “Kili!” He took off running along the bank after him, as Kili tried to stay afloat and swim to the bank, fighting the swift current that threatened to pull him under. “Kili grab on to something!”

Tree roots protruded from the bank into the river, and the young dwarf tried to snag one of them to no avail as they were either too thin to hold his weight or too slick with mud to grip onto. Just as Fili despaired that his brother was going to drown and was getting ready to jump into the water after him, an arrow thudded into a thick root just below where he was standing, its length extending across the river just enough for Kili to grab onto the shaft.

Fili threw himself to the ground, stretching an arm out to his brother as Kili tried to pull himself towards him along the arrow.. Fili caught one hand, and an arm clad in dark, forest green took hold of the other, and together they pulled the young dwarf to shore. Kili coughed and spat out water as his dark hair dripped down his shoulders, and Fili looked up at his rescuer.

It was a young man, clad mostly in dark green and grey. Tall, and the hood fell away to reveal dark hair and a short beard, and clear grey eyes. A bow and a quiver of arrows were strapped to his back, and a longsword hung from his side. This was one of the Rangers.

“Thank you for you help,” Fili said immediately. “I fear my brother would have drowned had it not been for your quick actions.” Kili nodded in agreement as he tried to catch his breath.

“Perhaps it’s best for Dwarves to stay rooted to the ground rather than attempt to be an otter,” the man replied, humour coloring his voice as he smiled kindly. “I am glad I was able to reach you in time.” He looked Kili over. “Are you well, young one?”

Fili helped him to stand, noting that his brother still trembled a bit, though whether out of shock or cold, he didn’t know. The Ranger seemed to pick up on this. too, as he started to walk back to where their ponies were.

“Follow me,” he said. “I will start a fire so you can warm up, and I trust you have some dry clothing in your pack to change into?” Kili nodded again. “Supplies, too, I trust, and perhaps you have had some fortune today, for your fish remains where you dropped it. Why don’t we make a quick meal out of it, to make up for the scare.”

The brothers agreed, and as Kili dug dry clothes out of his saddle bags and slipped between the trees to change, Fili got a small fire going, while the man cleaned and gutted the fish. He had it turning on a makeshift spit by the time Kili came back, looking considerably better.

“Would you mind telling me your names?” the man asked. “And where you come from?”

The two exchanged a look and shrugged. There was no harm in it.

“Fili.”

“And Kili.”

“At your service.”

“We come from the Blue Mountains to the west of here, and are returning home after serving as escort to a group of merchants,” Fili added. “And who are you, if we may ask.”

“I am Arathorn, son of Arador,” the man replied. “A Northern Ranger. My main camp is slightly north-east of here, in Fornost, in the old kingdom of Arnor, though I am now on my way to join some of my people in Eriador, to keep watch on the borders of the Shire.”

Kili, having further calmed by the warmth of the fire and the smell of the cooking fish, found his eyes drawn to the bow the Ranger had at his side. “Where did you learn to shoot like that?”

Arathorn followed his gaze. “We are taught as children,” he said. “Have you an interest in archery?”

“Kili has one of the keenest pair of eyes in the settlement,” Fili said.

“Though I mostly shoot with a slingshot. I don’t have a bow.”

“Well then, let me teach you.”

Fili groaned at the memory. “That was the beginning of the end,” he said, as Tauriel listened on, amused. “Thorin was none too happy about it, but Kili stuck to it and got better at it till Uncle finally relented and let him keep his bow and arrows…. Heh… I swear there were times Kili snuck off on his own to find Arathorn or the other Rangers so he could learn more from them.”

“That was a very nice tale, and you tell it very well. I should ask you for stories more often.” Tauriel frowned a bit then. “The Man, he was named Arathorn?”

“Aye. One of the Rangers of Arnor.”

“And Chieftain of the Dunedain. I had heard he perished nigh on a decade or so ago.”

Fili’s face fell. “Orcs?”

“What else?”

“That’s a shame. He was a good man.” He shook his head. “No, a very good man. He saved Kili; taught him to use a bow. He didn’t have to do any of those things for two strange Dwarves he didn’t even know.”

“That line is of noble birth,” Tauriel replied. “It is not so surprising.”

“This world has taken too many good lives.”

“Truly. But it has also given some.”

==========

Chapter Text

Spring brought with it the promise of hope, in the form of young wildflowers emerging from their buds in what was once called the Desolation - bright spots of colour against what was once a bleak background. Fili straightened as he dusted off his hands, movement much more fluid now that his injuries were almost healed. It had been a long, sorrowful winter, but Human and Dwarf alike had weathered the storms, and now looked to the promise of the future.

If wildflowers had taken root, it meant that the ground would soon be fertile enough for farming, which meant that in a year or so, they would no longer have to rely so heavily on the Woodland Realm or Beorn, who had generously ensured that they would not starve the winter away in the Mountain.

From where he stood, he could see Dale, a third of her buildings restored by the combined work of her’s and Erebor’s peoples, and some of the hardier Dale-folk were already thinking of moving into the city once the weather warmed up a bit more. Warmer weather also meant that work on restoring the remainder of the city would also proceed much faster, and Fili thought it was possible that most, save the very sick or weak, could return to permanent homes there by midsummer.

Footsteps sounded at his back and he turned to see Sigrid come up to stand beside him, one of the already-bloomed wildflowers in her braided golden hair. Fili thought she looked immaculately lovely.

“Dale looks beautiful, doesn’t she?” the young woman asked, for woman indeed she was, Fili realized. “She’s going to look even more beautiful once everything’s properly built and painted.”

“Aye, she does.” He glanced at her. “Though I stand beside one far lovelier.”

Sigrid blushed prettily. “You flatter me, your highness. One might even think you’re flirting with me. Are you?”

“Would you like me to?” Fili asked.

She met his bright blue eyes, glad if for nothing else than to see his spirit returning. There were times in the winter she had wondered if it would ever come back, or whether that charming, bright, golden dwarf had died along with his brother and uncle and left but a shadow behind.

“I might be persuaded,” she replied. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”

“Being kept busy during the winter helped. And…” he took her hand. “Being surrounded by friends. I know it was not just me you kept anchored to this world, but Tauriel as well. For that, you have my gratitude, and my thanks.” He kissed her hand, causing her to blush a little more. “Whatever I can do to repay you, you only have to ask.”

“Dear Fili.” They were past the point of using titles on each other in private. “You have already given me so much. You saved my life, and the lives of my siblings, back in Laketown. You’ve helped my Da with Dale’s rebuilding, you sheltered our people in your mountain. You rescued my sister.” Her other hand reached up to touch his cheek and she grinned when he blushed in turn. “It is I who should be thanking you.”

Fili beamed up at her. “Well, given that you looked after me when I was injured, and made being a king not so scary in the end, maybe we should just call it even?”

“I’m fine with that.”

Her hand moved away from his cheek and he found himself missing its warmth, though her other hand still held on to his at their sides.

“Will you be leaving the Mountain soon as well?” he asked then.

She ducked her head. “My father prioritized the rebuilding of the other dwellings over the Great Hall and the annexes, so I’m afraid we will have to impose on your hospitality a little longer.”

“Oh, impose on me. Please, impose on me.” Fili grinned, and was about to speak further when the call of a raven circling overhead made them both look up. Fili raised his arm and the raven alighted on it gently, cawing softly to the Dwarf-king.

“What does he say?” Sigrid asked curiously.

Fili launched the bird back into the air. “My mother’s caravan has left the Blue Mountains and are making their way to Erebor. They should be here by mid- to late-Spring barring any long delays on the road.”

“That’s wonderful news!” Sigrid beamed at him.

“Indeed.” He held his arm out to her. “Come, let us return. I should deliver this news to Balin so that we have time to make preparations to house them.”

She rested her hand on his elbow. “Are you sure we won’t be in the way?”

“My lady, you are one of the treasures of the Mountain. There is not one Dwarf in Erebor that would see you and your siblings leave us with a glad heart… and I know Tauriel would not take your absence well, either.”

“Is she well?”

“Aye. Her heart still longs to be with Kili, but for now she is anchored here. Partly thanks to you.”

“You think too highly of me. I did not do much.”

“You gave her something to live for, lass. Much like you did me.” He paused in their walk and faced her. “Sigrid, would you…”

“Sigrid?” Bard’s voice echoed from further below them.

The moment broke.

“Yes, Da?” she called back.

“Mistress Frida requires your assistance in the healing rooms.”

“I'll be right there!” She turned to Fili. “I'm sorry, I must fly.”

“Your people need you. I understand.”

“We will continue this talk later. I promise.” She stepped away, then paused before returning to him, where she bent down and kissed him softly on the cheek. Both of them blushed and Sigrid straightened with a shy smile before continuing down towards Erebor.

Fili watched her go. He could almost imagine Kili beside him, grinning widely while he laughed at his older brother for being a smitten coward. Next time, he vowed to himself. He would ask her next time. He found Bard waiting for him at the bottom of the hill, expression unreadable as he reached the man.

“It looks like it will be a productive Spring,” the dwarf said.

“I believe so, King Fili.” He held up a piece of paper. “A letter from Bain. They made it over the mountains and reached Rivendell. Everyone is safe, if just a little tired, and are probably on the road South to Rohan as we speak.”

“If they follow the Misty Mountains through Eregion and Dunland, they should be able to reach the Gap in 40 days. Which means they should be back with us by the Autumn harvest - what we’ll have of one, anyway.”

“We will have one, however small. Sigrid says the soil is fertile, and Bilbo and the few farmers we have are eager to start sowing the faster growing crops.”

“Aye, some flowers have sprouted already. With any luck, the ground will yield something.” Fili turned to walk towards Erebor, deliberately keeping his gaze away from the North and the crumbling towers of Ravenhill.

Bard kept pace with him, and Fili couldn’t help but feel a sense of nervousness starting to grow within him. “How go the repairs within Erebor?”

“We were able to dig out another working furnace, which give us two working ones while the third’s being rebuilt. The one Smaug destroyed is gone for good though. We’ll have to rely on these three until we can dig out a couple more. More importantly, the irrigation system is fixed, though it probably won’t look as grand as it once did. At least we can start pumping more water around the Mountain and won’t have to ration it like we did in the winter.

“We haven’t started tapping the ores again - probably won’t do that till the miners from the Blue Mountains arrive - but there are more than enough coins to melt and we’ll likely dig up the floor from the Gallery of the Kings and use that, too. I have no use for a solid gold floor.”

“So you are not against giving away Erebor’s treasures?”

“To ensure the well-being of Erebor’s people, not a bit. I would give however much it took to see that they were well fed, healthy and warm, and prospered without greed… But you know this, so why ask me again, Lord Bard?”

“We will soon be neighbors once we go back to Dale. I need to be sure.”

“That I won’t fall to the gold-sickness? You have lived in my mountain for almost the entirety of winter. Have you ever once seen any signs of madness in me?”

Bard frowned. “The signs didn’t show in your uncle immediately.”

Fili sighed. “I have been to the treasury. I can hear the gold call to me every time I go in there. But I know it’s there; I know what it is, and I can fight it. It does not hold me in it’s thrall, and if you want someone to vouch for me, ask Bilbo.”

“I respect the hobbit very much, but his judgement can be a little clouded when he comes to you dwarves. He has a great deal of affection for you all.”

“Lord Bard, I don’t know what more to tell you. My uncle broke the hold of the gold-sickness and it does not lie on me or on any of the remaining Company. Dale need not worry about help not coming from her neighbors should she need it. Erebor will always fight to protect her.” Fili looked steadily at him as he spoke the last few words, and he had to wonder if it was just Dale he was referring to.

The man met his eyes and Fili looked back steadily. “I apologize for being hard on you, lad. But I saw, as did you, what the sickness did to your uncle. What he nearly did to Bilbo on the wall.”

“I was there.”

“And I would not have it happen to those I love.”

Fili then realized what Bard was trying not to say. “I would never hurt Sigrid, nor any of your other children. They are dear to me, but if you would not have me spend so much time with them for fear of their safety, I will respect that.” Fili stepped back with a short bow. “If you’ll excuse me, Lord Bard, I must start making preparations for my mother’s arrival.”

He quickened his pace towards the Mountain, leaving the man to make his own way back.

==========

“Uncle Thorin, what’s the first thing you’re going to do when you’re king?”

Thorin Oakenshield glanced down at the little dark-haired dwarfling seated on the rug just as his slightly bigger golden-haired sibling nudged him.

“He’s already the king, Ki.”

“But he doesn’t have a crown or a throne yet, Fi”

“Those are just things a king has.”

“But without them, how do you know he’s a king?”

“… well… I guess they… they just know!” Blue eyes narrowed slightly in thought.

Brown eyes remained wide and curious. “Maybe he tells them?”

Their mother chuckled as she carried on with her knitting, looking over to her brother who was looking for a moment to jump in on the conversation the dwarflings were having. It was hard to keep up with them sometimes.

“It’s just like how Amad is a princess, and you and I are princes.” A shrug. “We just are.”

A firm nod. “Okay, Fi.” And then the brown eyes were looking back up at Thorin. “So, what IS the first thing you’re going to?”

“Well, my little dwarrow,” Thorin replied as he reached down to ruffle the younger’s hair playfully. “Probably the first thing I’ll do is find a nice, comfortable bed and have a nice, long sleep.”

“Sleep!?” both exclaimed in disbelief. Bedtime had to be the most boring time of the day; lying in bed with the blankets tucked all around, unable to play.

“Indeed,” Thorin replied. “It’s a long walk from here to Erebor, and for most of the journey you have to sleep on the ground… if you can find proper ground. Sometimes your bed might be fresh, clean grass; sometimes it might be a soggy marsh, or a cold forest, or even a flat rock. A bed would be a luxury after all of that.”

Dis nodded. “You boys should be very thankful you both have good beds to sleep in at night.”

The two exchanged a slightly guilty look, before the younger spoke up again.

“Okay, but what about after you wake up?”

“Hmm…” Thorin looked contemplative. “I’ll probably take a bath, which is something I know Fili at least dislikes. You, on the other hand, Kili, take to the water like an otter.”

Kili giggled. “Uncle! You’re not playing fair!”

“Oh I’m playing quite fairly,” Thorin replied. “You asked me the first thing I would do when I am king, and I have told you. It was you that failed to mention the terms of the answer.”

“Uhhh…” Kili scratched his head.

“He means, be more specific next time,” Dis replied.

“Ohh… Right. I’ll remember that.”

Fili shook his head at his little brother and turned his blue eyes to Thorin. “But what is your answer, Uncle? Real answer this time? Please?”

Thorin grew a little serious. “I would ensure that my people are safe, and looked after. See that they had food and shelter, and were content. A kingdom can seldom prosper unless her people are happy, Fili, remember that.”

The golden-haired dwarfling sat up a bit straighter. “Yes, Uncle.”

“But shouldn’t the king be happy, too?” Kili asked.

“Of course. Making sure your people are happy, doesn’t mean you have to be unhappy in their place. A good king knows how to balance both.”

“Sounds like a lot to do.” He looked at his older brother. “Will Fili know how to do all that?”

“He will learn.” Thorin said, matter-of-factly. “I will teach him, just as my father and grandfather taught me.”

Dis stroked her youngest’s unruly hair gently. “And he won’t be alone. No good king has ever ruled alone; he knows when to make his voice heard, yes, but he also knows when to give voice to ideas from those around him who might be smarter than he is. It’s why your uncle always has Mister Balin around.”

“Fi will have me!” Kili threw his arms around his brother and hugged him. “And Ori too, right, Fi? And maybe baby Gimli, when he’s older?”

“Of course I will, Ki,” Fili replied without hesitation. “We brothers belong together.”

Dis reached out and squeezed her older brother’s hand, both of them remembering the brother they had lost on the slopes of Moria.

“And I’ll make sure to beat off all those pesky dams who’ll come asking to be the queen.”

Fili blinked then. “ALL of them? At least let me meet the nice ones, Ki.”

Kili let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. But they go through me first and I’ll pick out a nice one for you.”

Dis laughed at that. “My Kili the matchmaker. That shall be very interesting indeed. Perhaps I shall help you.”

“Amad!” Fili exclaimed, looking to Thorin for help, and pouting when his uncle held up his hands in surrender.

“Ahh, don’t worry, my little, golden dwarrow,” his mother said. “You still have some time yet.”

==========

Chapter Text

Fili wondered what the time was as he gathered himself to his feet and stood, pushing back from the table he had been seated at with Balin, Gloin, and a small group of fishermen claiming Laketown descent. The humans had been keen to see Esgaroth rebuilt now that Dale’s restoration was well on it’s way to completion. Fili had agreed to fund the plan since it had been his idea to raze it completely to keep it from harbouring orcs during the winter.

To his surprise, Gloin had not fought him on this. Perhaps news of the Dwarves travelling from Ered Luin had given him more than gold to dwell on, seeing as how his wife and son would be with them. Balin had nodded encouragingly as he negotiated with the humans and reached a settlement that would make them all happy.

As they filed out of the room, the old dwarf fell into step beside the young king.

“That was nicely done,” he said. “I was very proud of you. Thorin would have been, too.”

Fili felt his heart warm a little. “Thank you, Balin. That means a lot.”

“You’re learning fast.”

“It’s not like I have a choice.”

“Aye, but don’t push yourself too hard, lad. Even kings need to rest and partake in a little bit of recreation now and then.”

They turned a corner and walked down the hall that led past where the humans were housed temporarily, Balin knowing that Fili tried to make an appearance at least once a day to make sure their guests were well taken care of, and also perhaps to see a certain golden-haired lass.

Routine did not disappoint as they soon saw her speaking to whom Balin recognized as the girl with the injured leg that Fili had spoken to as he had led the then-prince to see his uncle and brother. She was now leaning on a cane and walking - albeit with a limp - a smile on her face as she talked to Sigrid. Balin remembered Fili had crafted a pair of crutches for her himself during the winter, trying to keep his mind from his grief.

They looked up when they heard the two dwarves approach and Balin smiled kindly at them, though to his surprise, Fili’s own smile looked a little tight. Both young women gave Fili a light bow, Sigrid beaming at him, a slowly fading flower still in her hair.

“Fili! I’m so glad to see you. I had hoped you might be at dinner last night and that we could continue our talk from yesterday.”

The young king flinched. “My apologies, Lady Sigrid. I was called away to the mines to check on some matters of the forges.”

Balin slid a quick glance towards him at this rather formal reply, and then back to the two young ladies. Sigrid didn’t seem to have noticed.

“Oh, that’s alright. Your kingdom is important.” She gestured to the other girl. “You remember Brenna, don’t you?”

“I do indeed,” Fili replied, giving her light bow. “I’m glad to see you on your feet again, Lady Brenna. I pray you make a full recovery.”

She smiled at him. “Thank you, your highness, but I am no lady. My father was nought but a simple merchant in Esgaroth. The healers say I may have a limp for the rest of my life, but I’m sure I will wield a sword in battle again, limp or no.”

“You have already done Dale proud, my lady, and as there is no battle to be fought as yet, I hope you will continue to rest and heal and regain your strength. Your family would want you whole again.”

Brenna ducked her head a moment. “I… have no family, your highness. My Ma passed away when I was a child, and I lost Da to the dragon.”

“I am sorry for your loss.” Fili’s heart clenched a bit, reminded painfully of Kili and Thorin. Balin, too, offered his sympathies.

“Brenna has asked if she can be guard to me and Tilda,” Sigrid spoke up. “I’d like to give her the position, so I’m going to talk to Da about it tonight.”

“That is well,” Fili replied stiffly.

This time Sigrid did frown at the response and tried to meet his eyes. “Fili, is…”

Fili would not look at her. “I’m afraid I need to check on the construction of the stables. I hope you can excuse me.” He bowed to them once more. “Good day, ladies.” He stepped around her and walked hurriedly down the corridor.

Sigrid blinked and looked at Balin, who shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, lass,” he said. “He seemed well this morning.”

“Please excuse me.” Sigrid made her apologies to Balin and Brenna and ran down the hall after the retreating king. “Fili! Fili wait!”

The Dwarven king glanced back over his shoulder at her and slowed his pace, though he did not stop. It allowed Sigrid to catch up and she fell into step beside him.

“What’s the matter?” she asked. “You don’t seem in a very good mood.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re also not usually inclined to lie.”

“I cannot discuss this with you, Sigrid.”

She frowned again. “Discuss what? Fili?” She reached and grabbed his arm. “Fili, stop. Tell me what’s wrong?”

Fili pulled his arm from her grip. “Please do not touch me.” He tried to ignore how hurt she looked. “I do not want to make this harder than it is, but the fact is, you are Human and soon to be Lady of Dale once your father takes up leadership there. I am a Dwarf and King of Erebor. Whatever we…” He sighed. “It cannot work, Sigrid.”

“I don’t believe you,” she replied. “That is not what you were going to ask me yesterday. So what changed?”

“It’s reality. No relationship between us would ever be accepted.”

“Dale would accept you,” she said immediately. “Would Erebor accept me? That’s up to you.”

“Dale accepts me as the Dwarf king who helped rebuild the city. They will not accept me as your suitor.”

Sigrid’s grey eyes narrowed and hardened as she studied him. “Dale will not accept you? Or my father will not accept you?” Fili’s subtle flinch told her she had guessed correctly. “What did he say to you?”

Fili drew himself up. “As I said, I cannot discuss this with you.” Once more he stepped around her and continued on his way.

This time, she did not follow.

==========

He followed his feet back to the royal wing of Erebor where he and most of the Company - save Bifur, Bofur and Bombur who prefered more modest dwellings - resided, though he did not go to his room. Instead, he knocked on the door of someone he hoped could help soothe his troubled heart.

Bilbo smiled up at him as he opened his door. “Ah, Fili. Come in, come in. I’ll put some tea on.”

He ushered the young Dwarf into his room, closing the door behind him, and noting how Fili just about dropped into one of the armchairs by the fireplace rather than sit on it. He also noted the sad frown on the king’s face as he bustled about hanging a kettle over the fire and getting out some honey and milk to add to the tea. That Fili had also accepted the offer of tea - knowing he much preferred ale or cider - told Bilbo that something was definitely not right.

What that something was, Bilbo would have to get out of him, since Fili was too busy gazing moodily at the fire to offer up any explanation. Still, it could only be one of a few things.

“I’m glad to hear your mother’s on her way,” he said, bringing up a lighter topic first. “I’m sure you’ve missed her, and will be glad of her help and advice.”

Fili looked up. “Very much,” he replied. “Though I value your advice no less.”

“Me? I’m only a simple Hobbit. I don’t know much about running kingdoms, I’m afraid. Keeping Bag End in order is more than enough for me.”

“You miss your home.” It wasn’t a question.

Bilbo pondered this. “Yes, I do, but I’ve come to feel quite at home here, too. That’s mostly thanks to the work you have been doing to turn this mountain into a home again.”

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Fili said. “I would have thought you’d want to leave as soon as possible, considering…” He trailed off.

“Considering I was almost eaten by a dragon?” Bilbo asked gently. “Considering the Battle? Considering Thorin and Kili lie in stone beneath us, and I miss them probably just as much as you do?”

“All of that, yes.” Fili’s voice was thick. “But also…”

“Fili?”

“My uncle nearly threw you from the wall. Tried to get me to do it, too, but I couldn’t…”

“I remember.” If it stirred uncomfortable memories for him, the hobbit didn’t show it.

“Were you afraid of him?”

Bilbo took a moment to recall those dark days before the battle, when Thorin had been under the thrall of the gold. “No. Well… not afraid of him exactly, but of what was happening to him. I was afraid the sickness would destroy him and take away the dwarf I had come to care so much for.”

Fili nodded silently.

Bilbo tilted his head. “Why do you ask?”

The silence stretched out between them and Bilbo got up to take the kettle off the fire, pouring the hot water into the teapot and letting the leaves brew for a while before pouring tea into two cups and handing one to Fili.

Fili added honey and stirred the mixture absently. Going through the motions, Bilbo thought to himself and let the young king take his time to get his thoughts in order. Sometimes, silence was the best prompt.

“Bard thinks I’ll succumb to the gold sickness.”

Bilbo looked up sharply. “He never!”

The dwarf only nodded. “He might be right though. It didn’t manifest immediately in Uncle, how do I know it won’t show in me later?”

Bilbo’s lips tightened into a firm line as he set down his teacup and took Fili’s hands in his own. “Now you listen to me: You may be your uncle’s heir, but you are not him. Do you understand? You. Are. Not. Him. This gold, this treasure. You have never had any love for it. Your treasure is your family, your people; the welfare of two, if not three, cities. Even when Thorin was ready to forsake Kili for the Mountain, I saw you choose your brother. You will not fall to his weakness.”

He released Fili and sat back, picking up his teacup again and taking a sip before stirring in more honey. Elven teas tended to be a bit on the bland side. He muttered something about delicate Elven tastebuds that brought a bit of a smile to Fili’s face.

“All Dwarves have a weakness for gold.” Fili sipped on his own tea.

“Oh, yes. I have no doubt, but not all gold is metal. Bombur’s is in grain, Bofur’s in wood, Dori’s in threads. Kili had a weakness for gold-sparked copper hair, and you have it for gold as bright as your own head of hair.”

The dwarf had the grace to blush. “How?”

“Don’t you dare deny it. I’ve seen how you look at her.” Bilbo took another gulp of tea as something else occurred to him. “Is this why Bard confronted you?”

Fili nodded slowly and sadly. “He thinks I’ll hurt her.”

“He’s a fool.”

“He’s really not.”

“He’s a fool to judge you by the faults of your ancestors, all of whom died before either of you were born, save Thorin. And he’s a fool to think his daughter will accept this quietly. She is a force to be reckoned with, that girl. A Took after my own heart.”

“What if I do hurt her?”

Bilbo fought the urge to hurl his teacup at Fili’s head. Stubbornness was a far greater danger to the Dwarves than gold would ever be. “You will do no such thing.” He smiled a bit. “Besides, from the stories Kili and Thorin told me of her, your mother would toss you in the lake if the thought even crossed your mind.”

Fili gave a soft laugh at that. “Aye, she would.”

“Do you love her?” Bilbo asked. Fili knew he wasn’t talking about Dis.

“Not yet,” he replied honestly. “I feel I am growing to, though.”

“Then trust her. She’ll bring her father around. Just be there for her when she does.”

Fili nodded. “Thank you, Bilbo.”

“Meanwhile,” Bilbo poured himself more tea. “You might want to look in on the aforementioned copper-haired lass.”

The golden-haired dwarf sat up a little straighter. “Tauriel? What’s wrong? She’s not happy?”

“I doubt she’ll ever be truly happy unless someone sees fit to restore Kili to life again.” Bilbo wriggled his nose. “But no, nothing wrong… Not exactly. She’s been doing alright, helping with the herb-growing and all that, but lately, sometimes… I feel her mind wanders elsewhere.”

Fili frowned. “Perhaps she feels a little closed off in the mountain. I’ll ask Dwalin to take her hunting in the forests with him when he next goes. She might like that.”

“She may.” Bilbo sipped his tea and said no more on the matter.

==========

“Amad, tell us about the sea?” Kili asked one night as their mother tucked her little dwarflings into bed.

Dis quirked her brow as she looked at her youngest. “The sea? Why the sea tonight, little otter?”

“‘cause we saw it!” Kili exclaimed. “Uncle Thorin took us down the other side of the mountains.”

“Kili! Hold your tongue!” Fili sat up and exclaimed a little sternly.

The younger dwarfling ducked his head. “What? It wasn’t a secret!”

Dis sighed. “Well, that explains all the sand. Quarry indeed.” She would be having words with her brother later.

“You’re not angry, Amad?” Fili asked.

“No, my little one. Not with you both at least,” she replied.

“So, story?” Kili asked tenaciously.

Their mother chuckled and sat on the bed with the dark-haired dwarfling. “Well, it’s not a story exactly, but perhaps I can tell you about the brother of our maker Mahal. Now, as you know, Mahal has two brothers. One is the ruler of the skies, and the birds, like our friends the ravens and the crows. The other is the Lord of the Waters, and is named Ulmo. Now he, he lives in the deeps under Middle-earth and he rules over not just the Great Sea, but all rivers and lakes as well.

“It is said that he speaks through the sounds of the water, and that the sound of his voice was as deep as the ocean. He was seldom known to take physical form, but when he did, he was described as having a great, dark foam-crested helm, and shimmering silver-green mail.”

“Oooh, like fish scales?” Fili asked.

Dis laughed. “Perhaps.”

“Ew, wouldn’t that make him really stinky?” Kili asked.

“Well, if you ever meet him, perhaps you could sniff him and find out.” Fili chuckled.

“I’m not sure I’d want to meet him,” Kili replied. “He sounds scary.”

His mother smoothed his unruly dark hair. “Aye, I assume he looked terrifying, but he alone most cared about the Children of Arda and was the one who protected them against the darker powers of long ago.”

“Did he care for the Dwarves?” Fili asked.

“I do not know,” Dis admitted. “But I do know that he was the one to instruct Felagund to build the ancient kingdom of Nar-u-kathan. King Felagund, as you know, was the first Elf to ever form a friendship with the Dwarves, namely, the Dwarves of these Blue Mountains and the old kingdoms founded here. And it was to him that the Dwarves gifted the Nauglamir. Perhaps Ulmo hoped that a strong alliance between Elves and Dwarves would help to strengthen the Children against the dark power of that time.”

“It’s a pity Elves and Dwarves don’t like each other now,” Kili said.

“It is, isn’t it?” Dis asked.

“Maybe one day they’ll like each other again?” Fili suggested.

“Aye, but that might be a long way away,” his mother said. “And never mention it to your uncle… As for Ulmo, it is also said that he is the one who bears away the ships of the Elves, when they choose to leave Middle-earth forever.”

Kili blinked. “Leave Middle-earth? But why would they want to do that? This is our home.”

Dis smiled a little sadly and tucked him in again. “Maybe one day if you meet an Elf, you can ask them.” She kissed his forehead. “Now, it’s time to sleep, my little dwarrows.”

Fili tucked himself in and smiled when he received his own kiss. “Goodnight, Amad.” Kili was already snoring. That night he dreamed of the sound of the waves, and grey ships sailing away on water that shone like clear glass.

==========

Chapter Text

There were some nights when Fili, unable to sleep, would make his way down to the crypts, specifically to where Thorin and Kili rested. Sometimes he would just sit quietly on one of their stone markers, recalling happier times spent with them; sometimes he would talk to them, tell them about his day and what problems he was facing. He never expected an answer back of course, but it helped to say it out loud. Sometimes he would cry and tell him how much he missed them.

It was a warmer Spring night, a couple of days after he’d spoken with Bilbo, that he went down into the crypts again where it was a little cooler, wanting more than anything to just sit for a while and be alone with his thoughts.

He entered silently, then paused when he heard what sounded like soft crying echoing around him. Quietly he stepped over to Kili’s stone, unsurprised by who he found there.

“Oh, Tauriel, I’m so sorry.” Fili didn’t even know what he was apologizing for as he sat beside her and wrapped his arms around her shaking body, letting her cry into his shoulder. She felt far too frail in this moment, too light, and he remembered what she had told him about fading. “Please don’t fade,” he murmured.

“I miss him so much.” Her arms were around his shoulders.

“I know. I do, too.” A single tear slipped down the king’s cheek, reminding him that it had only been a few months since he’d lost half of his immediate family.

She sniffed and pulled back, accepting the handkerchief Fili gave her with a weak smile. “Sometimes, I think I’ve finally accepted his death, like he would want me to, and I think I’m moving on. But other times, I think of him and… It hurts so much, Fili. And you and Bilbo are the only ones who understand.”

“I do understand.” Fili said.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not unhappy here, and everyone has been kind. I just… Kili and I wanted to see the world together. Stars and fire-moons and…” She shook her head. “None of it matters now.”

“Tauriel.” She looked at the young Dwarf. “I would not have you shut in the mountain and away from everything you hold dear. It’s not what Kili would want for you either. You will always have a home here in Erebor, but you are also free to travel where you wish, if it would ease your heartache.”

“Nothing save Kili returning to life could ease this pain I fear.” He squeezed her hand gently. “But I think you for your kindness. For now, I do not know where to go… save for one place.”

“Where is that?”

“The sea.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The sea calls to all Elves, Fili, some more strongly than others. It calls us to Valinor, the Undying Lands, where most Elves go to escape sorrow, and from which there is no returning.”

Fili’s eyes widened in sadness. “I would not have you leave us so soon. Especially not when… there are those who would miss you terribly.” It pained him to think of her so unhappy. “But my words still stand, and if sailing away would keep you from fading, then I will see to it that you reach the Havens safely.”

Tauriel cupped his cheek with one hand and kissed the other. Fili blushed. “I do not want to leave,” she said. “Eventually yes, it is inevitable, but not now, though a part of me wants to. I couldn’t leave you all behind.” She touched the stone marker. “I couldn’t leave him behind.”

“Go hunting,” Fili said.

She looked at him, puzzled.

“Dwalin’s organizing a hunting party to get some meat into the kitchens. Go with him. I feel getting out of the mountain and back into the world again will help you.”

Tauriel nodded. “I might take up that offer.” She studied him. “And what of you, Fili? Your own happiness, and nay, do not tell me you’ve been happy. I know what transpired between you and Sigrid. She told me.”

“I’m respecting her father’s wishes.”

“And what of her wishes?” Tauriel dried her eyes on Fili’s handkerchief. “She mentioned she had words with her father, and now seeks you out to speak with you. Will you talk with her?”

Fili sighed and smiled. “If it so pleases my lady.”

==========

As it turned out, she found him first, wandering the streets of Dale and checking on the stone- and reconstruction work, pressing his hands to the walls and letting the sounds of the stone and rock soothe him. She watched him from a distance, not approaching him yet. At first glance he looked no different from the other dwarves, dressed simply in plain fabrics and leathers, wearing his old boots, with nothing to identify him as being a king of his people.

The only thing that made him stand out was his rich golden hair, shining in the late morning sun and the youthfulness in his eyes.

She watched as he helped a group of dwarrows lift a heavy beam into place, putting in as much effort as the rest of them, none of them treating him any different just because he was Erebor’s ruler. She admired that about him - his people always came before any title - though she also wondered if he sometimes worked too hard.

He didn’t know it, but she often watched him as he went about the mountain. She had roughly worked out when he woke up and when he went to bed and knew he only got four to five hours of sleep a night - if he slept at all. She knew from overheard gossip that he’d sometimes been seen going down to the crypts in the middle of the night, and her heart hurt for how much he must still miss his brother and uncle, and how lonely he must feel.

She saw him smile and nod to the other dwarves as he dusted off his hands, but knew it to be merely the polite smile that somehow never reached his warm blue eyes. It made her feel a little less guilty for the row she’d had with her father the day before.

“What did you say to Fili?!” she demanded as she stormed into her father’s room.

Bard sighed. “Sigrid…”

“You must have said something to him because he won’t talk to me!” Her grey eyes were alight with anger and for a moment Bard remembered his wife. “What was it?”

“I just want you safe.”

“By not letting me have any friends?!”

“You have friends, Sig.”

“And Fili is one of them.”

A frown crossed Bard’s face. “Somehow I don’t think he is satisfied with merely friendship.”

“That’s still my choice to make!” Sigrid refused to back down. “I’m not a child, Da. I’m grown up, and I can make my own decisions.”

“But I am still your father, and I am trying to protect you!” Bard tried not to snap at his eldest child.

“Protect me from whom? Fili? He would never hurt me, he’s noble and he’s very kind,” she said with utter surety, thinking of how he’d helped Brenna to walk again, even though he was still mourning his own losses..

“He’s a Dwarf!” This time Bard did snap.

“I don’t care!” Sigrid snapped right back. “And I don’t care that he’s rich, or a king. I still like him. He could be a poor wood-carver and I would still like him.”

Bard forced himself to stay calm, moving closer to his daughter and placing his hands on her shoulders. Her eyes were steel as she looked at him, though he was far too hardened by battle and by life to be cowed by her angry stare.

“I do not disagree that he is what you say, Sig,” he said. “But you have not seen Dwarves when under the thrall of gold sickness. You have not seen what they can do.”

“Fili is not his uncle.”

“No, but he is of that line, and that line has always carried the taint of gold-lust.”

“Da, he does not have it. I can swear to you. He barely looks at gold; look at how he’s giving it away!”

“And he told me himself that he hears the gold call to him.”

Sigrid blinked then. Fili had never mentioned this to her. What must it be like for him? To hear that call every waking moment and have to fight constantly to resist it. Was that why he looked so drained, not just because of his dead kin?

“But he’s fighting it. He’s strong, and he’s resisting it, even giving the gold away in cartloads… Perhaps he hopes that it will lessen the pull of it.”

“He fights it now because he is young and strong. What of when he grows older, nearer his uncle’s age? Do you think he will be able to resist then? I do not want you to live your life in danger and fear.”

“But it is my life, Da,” she said, “And I must live it. I care for Fili. Maybe I do not love him yet, but I feel that I could grow to. And I do not fear him. I do not believe he will succumb.”

Bard squeezed her shoulders gently, trying to make her understand. “Thorin Oakenshield cared greatly for Mr Baggins and almost threw him from Erebor’s ramparts in the height of his madness. Do you think I want a similar fate for you?!”

“Do you know an orc hit me, and Fili tackled it away without a single weapon in his hands? Did you know he shielded me and Tilda with his body when more orcs came to attack us?” Sigrid stepped out of his hold. “I trust him. His brother cared nothing for riches because he loved Tauriel more. Fili is the same. He was not raised to love gold.”

The man gave a resigned sigh. “My doubt still stands.”

“I know,” Sigrid replied. “But I will not give up my friendship with him, nor discourage him if he wants to pursue anything more by way of courtship.”

Courtship.

Sigrid felt herself blush; she had never been courted before. There were lads that may have shown interest, but she had always been too busy looking after Bain and Tilda while her father worked to put food on the table to pay them any mind. And that was also the problem - they were boys. Fili had a maturity about him that Sigrid felt complemented her own - and it had nothing to do with him being a king.

However, first she needed to set things right with him.

Cautiously, she walked over to him, moving into his line of sight. “Good morning, Fili.”

He looked up and blinked. “Sigrid.” And she saw the moment when the mask of the king fell into place. “Good day, my lady.”

“Fili, please. Let’s not be so formal.”

“May I be of some assistance to you?”

She sighed, starting to feel a little bit frustrated with stubborn males, and briefly entertaining the mental image of knocking Fili’s and her Da’s heads together. “Yes, yes you may. To begin with, you can stop trying to pretend that we’re strangers who never faced orcs and a fire-breathing dragon together. You can also stop trying to distance yourself from me, because it won’t work, and you can jolly well stop doubting that you’ll fall into gold sickness and hurt me in some way.”

Blue eyes stared just a bit dumbfounded into her grey as she finished her tirade and took in a few deep breaths of air to calm herself.

“Your father told you then,” he said finally.

“To a certain extent,” she replied. “And I understand why you did what you did these past few days, but don't you think you should have told me about it and let me make my own choice as to whether I wanted to keep seeing you or not?”

Fili ducked his head sheepishly. “When you put it that way… I’m sorry, Sigrid.”

She softened a bit and lifted his head up with two fingers under his chin, feeling the scrape of his beard on her skin. “It’s alright. I know your intentions were good.”

“Your father’s fears are well-founded though,” he went on. “I do hear the call of the gold when I am close to it, and I don’t know what will happen the longer I have to live around it.”

“Fili, the only thing that will weaken you to its thrall is your own doubt. You must trust that you will be strong enough to resist.” Her thumb stroked his cheek, still mostly smooth with the firmness of youth. “And you must trust me to help you.”

He sighed, though his cheek colored under her touch. “It’s not something you should have to deal with.”

“And that, again, is my choice.” Her grey eyes held his. “It is early days yet, and you and I still have a lot to do to get our cities restored to their former glories. However, once that has been accomplished, should you still want to court me, I wouldn’t deny you the chance.”

Fili blinked again. “That’s rather forward, my lady,” he said, though a spark of merriment that Sigrid recognized from back when he’d first entered their house through her privy entered his blue eyes.

She smiled. “Do you disapprove?”

“Not in the slightest. It’s very dwarrow-like of you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Please do. It was meant as one.”

They smiled at each other, Fili’s heart and mood lightening considerably as he offered her his arm and she rested her hand in the crook of his elbow. He walked her through the streets of Dale, letting her know of the most recent repairs, what was finished, and what still needed work. Sigrid listened carefully and intently, recognizing what he was doing for her. She would soon be the Lady of Dale, and when her father was not around, the people would look to her. She had to know what was going on in her own city.

“Thank you,” she whispered to him as he finished explaining the repairs that were being done to restore the old market. “Most men would not think a young woman capable of understanding such things as construction and engineering, seeing us only as carers of the young, old and sick, and only capable of things like needlework and cooking.”

Fili frowned a bit. “That is not the way of Dwarves. Our dams are just as skilled with a mining pick, or constructing machinery as a male dwarrow is with cooking and knitting. Bombur’s cooking skills are hard matched, and Dori is a master crafter of garments. My mother - once we were grown - used to work in the mines with our uncle. She had a knack for picking out the best veins of copper, back in the Blue Mountains.”

Sigrid smiled. “I think I like the sound of your culture better than mine.”

“Well, there’s no reason you cannot learn from us. Any of the Company would be happy to teach you, or take you on as an apprentice.”

“Once both our cities are self-sustaining, I might take you up on that offer.”

==========

Chapter Text

Mid-Spring slowly saw color and life return to Dale, as completed structures were painted in bright shades, and more of its people left Erebor to take up residence in their new homes. Soon, Fili knew, Dale would thrive. He was still quite wary around Bard since the day they had exchanged words outside Erebor, though they both remained professional when speaking to each other on matters concerning their respective homes. Neither of them ever brought up Sigrid or the gold sickness.

The warmer weather, interspersed with the occasional showers of rain that were normal for this region, also saw human and dwarven farmers alike going out to sow what few seeds they had in the fields and the desolation surrounding them, under Bilbo’s careful guidance and instruction.

In addition, Dwalin reported that ever since Tauriel had joined them on their hunting expeditions, their success rate had improved, as she knew exactly which animals to hunt and which particular individuals to aim for.

“We cannot match her skill with a bow, lad,” Dwalin said to him one evening as they sat together in the Company’s private dining room, sharing a pint of ale. “She hits every time, and cleanly.” He shook his head. “I think only Kili could have kept up with her.”

They traded sad smiles. Fili knew Dwalin had cared dearly for his younger brother; had watched him grow, and trained him to use a sword, and taught him how to hunt long before they had met Arathorn by the river.

“He would have enjoyed hunting with her.”

“Aye. She’s taught me a thing or two about hunting, I must say,” Dwalin remarked. “Do you know she rubs herself with leaves and tree bark before we start the hunt? Says it helps her smell like the forest so the beasts will be less suspicious.”

Fili smiled a little more then. “Kili used to do that too.”

The burly warrior cleared his throat and took a long draught of his ale. “Bombur’s delighted to cook with meat again. We shall eat well, and with any luck should be able to preserve some meat for next winter.”

“That is good news.” Fili sipped his own ale. “And how is Tauriel otherwise?”

Dwalin gave this some thought before giving an answer. “I wouldn’t say she’s happy; she still mourns Kili, but she’s not crippled with grief either. If anything, she’s trying to live.”

“Has she mentioned the sea at all?”

“The sea?” Dwalin furrowed his brows. “Now that you mention it, she did ask if I’ve ever laid eyes upon it, and what it looks like. Sometimes I noticed her looking west. Does it mean anything.”

Fili nodded. “It does to her. There is a place the Elves go to, to escape pain and grief, across the sea. She sometimes hears its call.”

The other dwarf grunted. “Trust the Elves to go running off when things get difficult,” he said, though his tone lacked any real conviction or malice. “Tauriel is strong. We will teach her to endure like the Dwarves.”

“Well I won’t discourage you,” Fili replied. “I would hate to lose her.”

Dwalin drained his mug. “Ye should come with us one day.”

Fili laughed a bit then, “I will respectfully decline that offer, old friend. You know what a terrible hunter I am.”

==========

Hunting had never been Fili’s strong point, mostly because he lacked the patience to keep still - a trait that was erroneously attributed to his younger brother. In truth, Kili was far more patient, often lying in wait for a particular animal to come by before letting an arrow fly. Clearly, sneaking off to train with the Rangers had done some good for him. Kili’s skill with the bow far surpassed that of any other dwarf in the settlement, though Thorin was still not too keen on him using what their uncle still considered to be an elvish weapon.

Though he never complained about it openly, especially not when Kili was the one who often put meat on the table, even during the winter.

Fili fidgeted where he lay on his front on lush forest grass. They were currently hidden behind a fallen tree waiting for whatever animal Kili had heard to make an appearance in front of them so they could shoot it. Kili nudged him to be still, and he glanced at his younger brother, leaves and bits of twigs hanging from his dark hair after he had generously rolled on the ground - need to take on the scent of the forest, he explained. Most animals had a keener sense of smell than them.

The older brother fought the urge to sigh out loud, not wanting to scare the game away. Kili grinned at him, and Fili supposed this was how he often felt during lessons with Balin, where the golden-haired prince was always far more attentive. He gave his brother an imploring look to get on with it so they could bag their kill and go home, and Kili cheekily put a finger to his lips, requesting silence, before pointing to Fili’s left.

He signalled Fili to remain behind cover, while he nocked an arrow to his bowstring and shifted to a clump of bushes where he could crouch with his bow ready.

Fili glanced in the direction Kili had pointed out to him in time to see a large brown stag with huge antlers emerge from the trees. His eyes widened. An animal that size could keep them in meat for a good few weeks, not to mention the price they could get for the hide and antlers. He was just calculating how much they could get in coin and trade for them, when there came the sharp sound of a twig snapping and the stag bolted back into the forest.

He whipped his head around to see Kili toss the broken halves of a branch over his shoulder.

“Why?!” he asked, not caring if he was speaking out loud.

Kili’s dark eyes met his. “I could never kill something as grand as that. Fili, didn’t you see? He was in the prime of his life, healthy, still able to sire strong fawns. It would be a shame to end its life now.”

Fili tilted his head as they got to their feet to try another hiding spot elsewhere in the forest. “The Rangers teach you that?”

“Aye. Always look for the old, the weak or the injured. Give them a clean, quick death, and ensure the rest of the herd or flock remains strong.” He laughed at his brother’s disappointed expression. “Don’t worry, Fi. We’ll make sure you’ll still have meat for supper tonight. Plenty of other good game to be found - rabbits, pheasants; they’re numerous and easy to catch.” Kili lead them deeper into the forest. “How beautiful was that stag though? Oh, there was was no way I could have killed that beast.”

Fili could only shake his head at his kind-hearted brother.

==========

Kili would have loved this, he thought as he let his goat be led away and walked through the stables of the Elvenking. He and a small envoy from Erebor - namely Balin, Dwalin and Ori - had been invited by King Thranduil to return to the Woodland Realm, this time as proper guests to make up for the time he had imprisoned them, in order to discuss the progress of Erebor’s and Dale’s rebuilding since winter, and to see what supplies they still required in order to sustain their people.

Dwalin and Balin had gone up into the main halls, but Fili lingered with Ori to make sure the goats were properly groomed and fed - not that he thought the Elves of all people would mistreat animals - and to look at what other animals were housed there, mostly because he knew it was something Kili would have done. The largest stall housed a stag elk with broad antlers, though this one was smaller than the one the Elven King had ridden to Erebor. He wondered what had happened to the other.

“Killed in battle,” the king’s voice said from behind them, as if he had read Fili’s mind, which he probably could do, being an elf and all, the dwarf king assumed.

“I am sorry,” Fili said, as Ori reached up tentatively to stroke its muzzle.

“This is his younger brother.”

Fili tried to ignore the stab of pain that went through his heart, and stroked the proud neck gently. “He must miss him.”

“I suppose,” Thranduil replied. “Do you like beasts?”

“Not as much as my brother did. He would have loved to see all this.”

“Then I sorrow that he is not able to do so.” To Fili’s surprise Thranduil placed a hand to his heart and gave a short dip of his head. “Come, the animals will be fed well. It is time we looked to our own boards. You must be hungry after your long journey.”

Ori gave the elk a final pat and moved to follow the two kings. “Well, we had some cram on the way; bland, but it kept us going.”

“In that case I am glad to offer more palatable fare.” There was the barest hint of a smile on the Elven King’s face. “And not all green either.”

“Oh thank goodness for that.” Ori breathed a sigh of relief.

Thranduil led them into the main halls of his kingdom, and Fili took a moment to look around and appreciate the fine architecture - something he hadn’t bothered to do the last time they had been here, what with being tied up and near-dragged through, with the remnants of spider venom in his veins.

“Who governs Erebor in your absence?”

“My cousin Dain,” Fili replied, trying not to smile at how the elf’s lip curled up in disgust. He vividly recalled the verbal exchange at the wall. “He is staying in Erebor until my mother’s caravan arrives.”

“Then I shall plan my official visit to coincide with his departure.”

Ori had no such qualms about grinning outright. “Cousin Dain’s not that bad. A little uncouth perhaps, but he does have some manners about him.”

“I will have to take your word for it,” Thranduil replied. He gestured to two of his attendants as they neared the throne room, and the dining hall adjoining it. “They will show you to your rooms, where you may wash and freshen up before you join us for the meal.”

Fili bowed, Ori following suit. “Thank you, your highness, for your hospitality.”

Ori’s stomach gave an audible rumble then, and Fili had to choke back a laugh. “We definitely won’t be late,” the younger dwarf said, to the Elven King’s amusement.

Sure enough, not ten minutes later, the two young dwarves joined Balin, Dwalin and the Elven King at the table, earning a bit of a disapproving frown from the white-haired dwarf for their tardiness, though Thranduil seemed indifferent as he signalled the servers to pour the wine and lay out the food. True to his word there were a few dishes of meat amongst the trays of fruit and greens, much to Ori’s and Dwalin’s delight. They both proceeded to stuff their faces - Ori with a little more finesse - to Balin’s utmost consternation. Thranduil merely raised an elegant brow in curiosity and bemusement.

“We stopped at Rivendell during the early leg of the quest,” Fili said by way of explanation. “I guess they’re all vegetarian over there, because all they served us were greens.”

“Not even any chips,” Ori added. “It’s a good thing Nori had a few sausages on him.”

Thranduil disguised a choked off laugh as a cough. “Indeed.” He dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. “Please, tell me more about this lovely stay of yours in Rivendell.”

“Well, we might have broken some of their furniture,” Ori continued.

Balin studiously looked at his plate, cutting up his food and eating diligently.

“Dare I ask why?”

“We needed a fire to cook the sausages over.”

Fili couldn’t help himself - he burst into laughter as he remembered the expression on the elven attendant’s face when he came in to check on them the next day and found the charred remains of what had once been a fine stool and table set. Across from him, even Balin chuckled, and Thranduil allowed a bit of a smile to cross his face.

He looked nothing like the cold, angry king that stood before the walls demanding jewels. There was a warmth in him now that hadn’t been there the first time he’d come to the Woodland Realm as a prisoner, but Fili sensed a touch of sorrow there, too.

“Aye, if you thought us running off from your kingdom in barrels was bad, at least we didn’t bathe in your fountains,” Dwalin added. “Na-”

“There’s no need for so many details, brother.” Balin quickly cut him off.

“Spoilsport,” Dwalin muttered and went back to eating.

Once dinner was over, Fili excused himself, and with Thranduil’s leave went to look around the kingdom, purely to satiate his curiosity about the architecture of the realm. It was considerably different than what he saw in Rivendell, the Woodland Realm relying more heavily on the trees of the forest to give the kingdom its shape and direction.

One doorway led out into what looked like a garden - a clearing ringed with trees that offered a clear view of the night sky and the myriad of stars that twinkled overhead. It made him smile a bit and think fondly about how much Kili would have liked to see this, too. Especially after his talk with Tauriel had given him a newfound appreciation of the stars that he once barely paid any heed to.

In a corner of the garden, nestled in a network of roots and tree branches, was a tall statue carved in what seemed to be marble, of an elven maiden. Definitely Elven make, Fili thought as he took in the gentle curves and smooth lines. Dwarven statues tended to favour more angular lines. He wondered who the statue was of. Thranduil’s late wife perhaps?

“She’s very beautiful,” Fili said to the Elven King now standing framed in the doorway.

“She was.”

Fili cleared his throat and stepped away from the statue. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause you any discomfort by speaking of her.”

“On the contrary, I do not speak of her enough.” Thranduil moved silently to where Fili was, reaching to remove a stray vine that hung down the side of the statue. “Her beauty was merely an additional gift. She was strong, brave, yet kind. Far kinder than I ever was. She would not have hesitated to help your people against the dragon.”

The young king looked over at him. “Let us not dwell on past grievances.”

“A wise decision. Whatever there may have been between us, your uncle still taught you well.” He steered them to another part of the garden, looking up at the stars. “How fares Tauriel?”

“She is…” Fili began to say, then paused, wondering how to phrase it. “I cannot say that she is happy; she still misses him, but she is living. She has made friendships with some of the dwarrow and the people of Dale, and she goes hunting with Dwalin.”

Thranduil sensed there was more the king was struggling to say. “And yet?” he prompted.

“She spoke of fading.” Fili tried not to flinch as Thranduil gazed sharply at him. “She told me what could happen to her; I would not have it happen to her if I can help it… And she spoke of the sea. She said she can sometimes hear it calling.” Fili looked at the Elven King to see if this made any sense to him. “My lord, if I may?” The elf nodded. “You care for her. Why not let her come back to the Woodland Realm?”

“You have answered your own question, King Fili,” he said. “The Woodland Realm may be her home, but her heart will forever lie within Erebor’s stone. If she returns here, she will fade. That, I can assure you of. At least in your kingdom, surrounded by those that like her, she can be made to forget her grief for a while.”

“But surely my lord would be able to help her better than us mortals could?” Fili asked. “You and your son.”

Thranduil sighed sadly. “My son no longer dwells within these halls. He has gone to seek the Rangers.” Fili perked up at bit at mention of them “Nay, King Fili, Tauriel would not find comfort here anymore. She is best where her heart remains, until she heals completely, or until she finally gives into the call of the sea.”

And that way, he wouldn’t have to watch her fade - so that was the sadness, Fili realized. Losing his son, and the elf he’d raised almost like a daughter, in addition to losing his wife so many years ago. He must be so lonely, all by himself in this great forest with only reminders of those who had since left him. His attendants and guards respected and feared him too much to ever try to get close to him to lend support.

“You are welcome at Erebor anytime,” he found himself saying, and felt the elf’s keen gaze on him. “Whether as a king or as a… friend. It matters not to me, and I know Tauriel would be glad to see you again.”

The Elven King placed a hand over his heart once more and bowed to him. “Your generosity is kind,” he said, the closest to a ‘thank you’ Fili knew he could manage. “Perhaps for your coronation. You have more than proved that you are fit to wear your uncle’s crown.”

Fili returned the bow. “Thank you, my lord.”

“The halls are open to you, as are the library and stables. The guards will not hinder you, you may visit them as you wish, and for however long you like.” Thranduil turned to leave. “Though I will remind that we have official matters to discuss come tomorrow.”

Fili grinned then. “I promise I won’t stay up too late.”

==========

Chapter Text

The light smack to the back of his head was the only thing that kept him from dozing off face-first into his bowl of porridge. Fili sat up straighter almost immediately, about to scold Kili for hitting him, when he realized that his younger brother was on the other side of the table and there was no way he could have reached him. He gave his mother a sheepish smile and spooned some porridge into his mouth to keep from yawning.

“You were supposed to go to bed,” Dis said, as she ran a brush through Kili’s unruly hair.

“I did!” Fili protested.

“Oh I’m sure you did. You just failed to sleep a few hours.”

“He was trying to stay awake in case Uncle Thorin showed up.”

Fili glared at his dark-haired brother. “Traitor,” he growled.

Kili only grinned. “I told you there was no way he’d show up in the middle of the night.”

“Shut up.”

“Don’t fight.” Dis intervened. “Eat your breakfast. Kili, stop goading your brother.” She looked at her golden-haired son who was busy rubbing his eyes. “I have half a mind to tell Dwalin to cancel your training today.”

“Amad, no!” Fili went bolt upright. “I’ll be fine. Dwalin said he was going to teach me how to use the twin blades today.”

“I’ll not have you coming home with your arm dangling by a tendon because your reflexes were too slow to block.” Dis gave him a hard stare.

“Well, technically if that happened, he wouldn’t be coming home, he’d be taken straight to cousin Oin’s,” Kili said helpfully.

“Shut up!” Fili threw a bread roll at him.

Kili caught it lightning quick and broke it in half, smearing jam over the two pieces. “Thanks, brother.” He proceeded to shove a half in his mouth.

Fili sneered at him, then played his last hand. “If I don’t go, then Kili doesn’t get to go either!”

The younger froze with the second half of the roll partly in his mouth. “Hey!” He swallowed. “How’s that fair? I’m not the one trying to drown in his porridge.”

“I’ll drown you in a minute.” Fili growled.

“Boys!” Their mother’s voice boomed over theirs, and both young dwarrows instantly shut their mouths, Kili chewing on the last of his roll. “I am cancelling your training for today.”

“But Amad!” Kili started to protest, looking up at her with his big brown eyes.

“Quiet, Kili.” Dis wasn’t moved in the slightest. Those eyes worked on a lot of people, but not her. She gave a gentle tug on his hair to reinforce her point. “Now, there won’t be training today. However, I do have errands to run, and Balin mentioned you’re both behind on your history lessons…”

Both dwarrows groaned in perfect unison.

“Well, if there’s one thing that can put me to sleep…” Fili said, getting a flick on his ear for his trouble.

“Don’t be disrespectful,” Dis scolded. “It’s important you learn your family history.”

“Yeah, but it’s more interesting when Uncle tells it to us as stories,” Kili said. “Cousin Balin makes us study his dusty old tomes.”

“And I’m allergic to dust,” Fili said.

Dis snorted. “Clearly not when it comes to raiding Thorin’s old chest.”

“That’s different.” Kili grinned.

“How so?”

“It’s Uncle’s dust.” Fili matched his brother’s grin.

Dis swatted her sons over their fool heads. “Finish your breakfasts and get to Balin’s.” She picked up a tray of dirty dishes and headed into the kitchen.

Kili immediately got up and slid into the chair next to his brother as Fili sullenly finished his porridge. The older brother eyed his younger sibling suspiciously as the dark-haired dwarf grinned with a familiar sparkle of mischief in his eyes - the one that usually meant they would get in so much trouble later, but it would be worth it.

“What?” he asked in the end.

“I know when Uncle’s coming back?”

“When?” Fili couldn’t help himself.

“Some time this afternoon, maybe more towards evening.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, while you were busy trying to figure out how to wear clothes, a raven came by with a message for Amad. I just happened to be nearby.”

“I’m sure you did.” Fili rolled his eyes.

“He’s coming from the north.”

“Of course he is. South would mean passing the Grey Havens, and you know how he is about Elves.”

“Don’t we all.” Kili chuckled. “Anyway, I was thinking that…”

“Don’t say it.” Fili finished the last spoonful of his porridge. “I know what you’re thinking.” He pushed back from the table and stood. “Grab your gear and let’s go. We need to stop at the markets first. Might as well make a picnic of it.”

Kili all but beamed and dashed off to their room to grab his few weapons.

The rest of the day passed pleasantly enough as the two dwarrows left the main settlement and walked along the main road until they found a spot pleasant enough for them to have their picnic while still keeping watch on the road. Few travellers used that path anymore, most choosing to approach the Blue Mountains from the south, as the presence of the Elves guaranteed a safer path.

Only their uncle was stubborn enough to choose a riskier approach just to avoid any contact with the Elves.

By the time the sun had passed its highest point, they had finished most of their cheese sandwiches and the meat pie they had bought from Bombur’s stall, along with a couple of apples that Kili had managed to knock down with his slingshot, and a full skin of water. Fili had even managed to take a nap while Kili kept watch for any traveler or enemy.

The clatter of what could only be horse hooves on the path roused Fili, and he sat up to see Kili already on alert, no weapon in hand, but his dagger quite obviously gleaming at his side.

“Human,” he said. “Though not a Ranger - they don’t make that kind of sound.”

“Or Elf,” Fili nodded as the rider came into view - a simply dressed Elf on a white horse.

Both of them watched warily as the horse slowed and the elf hailed them with a wave of his hand. He didn’t seem dangerous. In fact, he seemed… sad. Fili frowned.

“Well met, good dwarrow,” he said in the Common Tongue. “I wonder if you could tell me how far to Mithlond from here.” He smiled, but Fili noticed it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Mithlond. The Grey Havens. Kili shifted beside him. “About a day’s ride or two south, depending on how fast or slow you go,” he said. “And whether or not anything attacks you.”

“Ah… that is good to know. I thank you.”

“You’re not from around here then?” Fili asked.

“Nay, I ride from Imladris. Rivendell in the Common Tongue. I’m afraid I wasn’t paying attention to the road and got a little turned about after I left Bree.”

Fili looked him over but didn’t see any packs or gear on the horse. “You travel light.”

“An error on my part. I misjudged how long it would take to reach, and I hadn’t counted on getting lost,” the elf replied.

Kili seemed to hesitate a moment, then gathered up the remaining sandwiches. “I don’t know if Elves eat normal food,” he said, “but here…” He offered the bundle to the Elf. “Best cheese sandwiches in Ered Luin.”

The elf looked genuinely surprised, but took the package from Kili, placing a hand to his heart and bowing as low as he could in the saddle. “I thank you for your kindness, good dwarrows, though I have nothing to offer you in return.”

Kili waved him off. “It’s fine.”

“Why do you seek the Havens?” Fili couldn’t help but ask.

“I wish to sail West,” the elf replied. “In the hopes that I may find some rest at last.” Neither dwarf looked like they understood. The elf smiled kindly at them. “I’m afraid I must leave you now. Thank you again for your kindness, and may Durin’s stars ever shine upon you.”

He nudged the horse into a canter and moved swiftly down the path.

“Well,” Kili said. “He certainly didn’t seem as cold and nasty as Uncle told us they were.”

“Yes, but don’t let him hear you say that,” Fili cautioned.

“I wonder what he meant by finding rest.”

Fili was about to answer him when both of them heard the sound of more hooves on the path, only this time, they recognized the pattern, and the familiar rider that sat upon the mountain goat’s back.

“Uncle Thorin!” they cried, as they ran towards him, all thoughts of the elf forgotten.

The elder dwarf dismounted and was instantly ploughed into by his eager nephews as the goat snorted in disdain.

“Fools,” Thorin said affectionately as he gripped each by the back of the neck. “You mother is going to skin you both.”

==========

“Your majesty,” the guard panted as he entered the chamber where Fili was in discussion with Balin and Dwalin. Frowning when he received no response from the king, he tried again. “My lord?”

Dwalin snorted and kicked Fili on the shin, making the young dwarf jump. The tall dwarf nodded to the guard, still waiting for Fili to acknowledge him. “He means you, lad.”

Fili blushed in embarrassment. “My apologies,” he told the guard. “Please, deliver your news.”

“The scouts up on the slopes spotted a large group heading towards Erebor,” he said, making Balin and Dwalin sit up straighter. “We sent a raven to scout on ahead, and the news has come back to us.”

“Orcs?” Balin asked, warily.

“No, my lords.” The guard shook his head. “It is the princess.”

Fili bolted from his chair, leaving Balin to thank and dismiss the guard as he sprinted towards the front gate. He heard a grunt behind him and turned to see Dwalin catching up to him, a bit more winded than Fili was.

“Slow down, lad,” he said. “She’s not here yet, but she should reach us within the hour. She leads many of our people so it will be slow going.”

They stepped out into the air that was growing warmer with each passing day, as Spring slowly crept towards Summer, Fili walking determinedly across the newly rebuilt bridge as he hand-gestured to the nearest guard who scurried off to carry out his duty. Above them, they heard a soft scraping before two very different heads looked down at them from the balcony of the old guardhouse

“What’s going on?” Bilbo called down.”

“The Lady Dis and some of our people from Ered Luin are arriving,” Dwalin called back.

“Fili’s mother? That’s wonderful!” Tauriel said. If she was nervous about meeting the dwarf princess, she didn’t show it. Instead she cast her green eyes ahead, then nodded. “Yes, I see them. My apologies for not noticing sooner. Master Baggins and I were having quite the discussion about some wine his father laid down.”

“It’s alright.” Fili waved off the apology. “Dwalin, assemble the Company and tell them of the oncoming arrivals. Most of the humans have returned to Dale now so there should be plenty of rooms freed up, plus the ones we’ve already prepared for them in advance.” He turned to the sound of hooves on stone.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” Dwalin asked.

Fili mounted his war-goat. “Going to see my mother.” He gently kicked the animal and was off down the road before Dwalin could stop him or say anything.

The goat, glad to be out of its stable and stretching its legs, gladly tore down the road with all the speed it could muster, and all Fili had to do was remain in the saddle and hold on to the reins. They reached the caravan of Dwarves with Dis at their head, in record time, and the dwarrowdam, on seeing the approach, gave a cry of joy and hurriedly climbed off her pony. Fili had just enough time to slow his goat before jumping off and running the rest of the way towards her.

“Amad!”

Dis found her arms full of her golden-haired son as he clung to her, tears streaming down his face as he brokenly whispered “I’m sorry” over and over again. She rubbed his back gently with one hand while gesturing with the other to a red-headed dwarrowdam to take point and lead the rest of the dwarves to Erebor.

“Oh my dear Fili,” she said. “My precious son, none of what happened was your fault. Do you hear me?” She pulled him back to look him in the eyes, though her own eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Do you understand?”

Fili gave a barely perceptible nod, and Dis knew her work was not over yet, but it would do for now. Later she would talk to Balin about what transpired that had lead to the deaths of her brother and youngest son and had also nearly killed her oldest. In that moment, however, she bumped her head against Fili’s and gave him a gentle shake. It was then that she noticed Fili wore no crown, and she raised a brow questioningly.

“I didn’t feel ready - still don’t,” Fili replied. “And I wanted to wait for you to arrive before any sort of coronation was done. Plus, not wearing it makes me a little more approachable. What good is a king if his own people cannot speak to him?”

Dis smiled warmly at him. “Wise words.” She released him and led him to where goat and pony stood idly grazing. “Dain’s?”

“He lent us a few for use here, and will send a few more once he returns to the Iron Hills,” Fili replied as he helped his mother remount her pony. “I’ve also sent a group south to Rohan to buy more horses and ponies for Dale and Erebor. They should return by Autumn.” He got back up on his goat and the two of them rode back at an easy pace. “Tell me of your journey,” he said, determined to put off telling her about the quest until he had at least a few pints of ale in him.

His mother seemed to understand as she nodded. “We actually set out towards the end of winter, as soon as the weather turned. As you know once you’re out of the mountains and crossing The Shire, winter isn’t so bad, though I’m very sure we gave them all something to talk about.” Dis chuckled. “Oh, and you must remind me to give my news to that Hobbit friend of yours, Bilbo you said his name was?”

“Aye, our burglar. Good to have in a pinch.”

“I see. Well, we camped mostly on the outskirts of Bree and then carried on to Rivendell. Interestingly enough we came across some trolls in the forests.” She slid a glance to him and Fili ducked his head. “Never seen stone trolls before.”

“That was Gandalf’s doing, and how did you know about Rivendell.”

Dis snorted. “Thorin may have been stubborn about seeking help, but we were travelling with dwarflings and elders, and after long days on the road, they were glad for a little rest.”

“Did they serve you green food?”

“Yes, and fish and some other meats. Why do you ask?”

Fili groaned. “We were less than gracious when Gandalf led us there. Uncle was livid and may have made some remarks…”

Dis shook her head. “Trust my brother to muck up diplomatic relations.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Fili muttered. “Go on, Amad.”

“Lord Elrond was kind enough to loan us a guide to take us through the High Pass over the Misty Mountains and show us the safest place to cross the Anduin with all our wagons and supply animals.” Dis stroked her beard thoughtfully. “You must tell me how you came to befriend that Beorn fellow, though he was most kind to us.”

Fili smiled sadly. “Kili loved his animals. It’s a wonder we managed to get him away from there.”

Dis nodded sadly, too, missing the brightness that was her youngest. “I understand you’ve mended things with Thranduil as well, if that elven escort was anything to go by. I am glad for them. Spiders were nasty things, but thanks to the elves’ help we had no casualties and only minor injuries. The elves promised to help the rest of the caravans following behind us.”

“We came to an understanding,” was all Fili said. “But first, let’s get you settled in and see to some dinner.” He nodded ahead as Dale and the Lonely Mountain came into view.

The dwarrowdam slowed her pony and took a good long look at the home she had fled when she had been but a mere girl. “It still looks as majestic as ever.” Though in her heart she wished it had not come at so high a price.

“We worked all through the winter, both in Erebor and Dale.”

“So I see.” She looked proudly at her son. “Not even a year as king, and you have already done very well. I am so proud of you, my golden boy.”

They stopped in front of the bridge and let the guards take their mounts away, while they crossed and entered the mountain where Balin stood in welcome. The white-haired dwarf bowed low as was proper gesture to a princess, but she dismissed it with a wave of her hand and pulled him into a hug.

“None of that, old friend,” she said. “We didn’t need it in Ered Luin, we do not need to be so formal in non-formal settings now.”

Balin only smiled. “Very well, princess. Mahal be praised that you reached us safe and whole.” He led them further into Erebor and to the royal wing. “Thankfully Smaug went straight to the treasury, so the upper residences were spared too much damage. We were able to clean out and restore your old rooms. As of now only the Company dwells down these halls.”

“They will do nicely, Balin. Thank you,” Dis said. “And what of the rest of our people?”

“Being settled into habitable rooms all around the mountain. We had some experience with a mass occupation over the winter, so we’re much better prepared this time around.”

“What news for tonight’s dinner?” Fili asked.

“Bombur is quite busy preparing a feast, though he says it’s only a small one. Simply the Company and the Princess, though Lord Bard and his daughters will also be joining us, and Bilbo and Tauriel.”

Fili blushed visibly at the thought of seeing Sigrid again - he had missed her while he’d been away in the Woodland Realm, and lately she had also been busy helping her father and the other women of Dale - though he was not too keen on the chance of another confrontation with Bard. Dis noticed the color on her son’s cheeks and raised a questioning brow at Balin, who shook his head.

“Very good. Thank you, Balin.”

“If there’s nothing else you require, then I must excuse myself to help Ori with registering the new arrivals,” the old dwarf said, and hurried off.

Fili looked at his mother. “Did you want to go down, to see…?”

“Perhaps that can wait until tomorrow. Let us not mar a happy arrival with sadness,” Dis replied.

==========

The meal was a relatively merry affair as far as Dis was concerned, and she watched the others at the table with keen eyes. The elf, Tauriel, sat to one end with Bilbo and Ori, and Dis studied her for a good long while, trying to get a measure of the one who had been so beloved of her younger son, and who loved him so much in turn, that to be apart even from his tomb would end her. Fili had near-pleaded with her to be kind to the red-head, and while Dis had no intentions of being intentionally cruel, she still wanted to know a bit more about her.

But perhaps that could wait.

What was far more interesting was Fili’s reaction to the young human woman who was seated beside him. There was a rosy color to his cheeks and he seemed almost shy when he spoke to her, while she smiled at him far more than she needed to and thought no one noticed when she touched his hand now and then. Dis’ eyes - the same blue as her son’s and her brother’s - slid to look at the bowman’s face, and noted the wary expression he seemed to be giving the pair.

“Lord Bard,” she said out loud. “I see that the restoration of Dale is coming along quite nicely. When do you hope to be finished?”

The man started at being suddenly spoken to, but quickly regained his composure and turned to the princess. “We hope to be completely out of your hands by the harvest at the very latest. As it is, most of Dale’s Folk have returned to the city and those of Laketown have started the rebuilding there, as well. Only those who still have a bit more healing to do remain, and my daughters. Master Dori keeps a strict eye on them.”

Dori raised his goblet to the two girls. “They are a pleasure to be around.”

“I hope they do stay a while longer,” Ori spoke up. “Because that means he mothers me less.”

A round of laughter went around the table.

“I like Mister Dori,” Tilda said. “He’s been teaching me to sew and patch up my own dresses so I don’t always have to look for Sig.”

“And you will find no better a teacher for that than Dori,” Dis said. “Learn well, child.” She looked at the older girl then and steel grey eyes met hers unwaveringly. Good, Dis thought. She has spine. “And what of you, lass?”

“Sigrid helps the healers and sees to the people. She helped with my healing when I was injured,” Fili immediately replied.

Ah, so she wasn’t imagining things.

“I can answer for myself, Fili,” Sigrid replied, and Dis mentally made notes. She had a strong spine, and they referred to each other by first names and a considerable amount of familiarity. “Yes, it’s true, I help the healers to look after the sick and injured. There were so many after the battle and the few healers we have were overwhelmed. I also make rounds to ensure our people are comfortable and have all they need.”

Balin smiled kindly. “She has been a big help to the king and her father. A true Lady of her people. All are fond of her, Dwarf and Human alike.”

Sigrid blushed and Fili just about beamed at the praise of her. At the end of the table, Tauriel and Bilbo also smiled.

“I see.” Dis nodded, her face betraying none of her emotions. The girl could be groomed to be a good queen if Fili sustained his interest in her. She pretended not to notice the hopeful look Sigrid gave him as she turned to speak to Bard again. “I hope my son has been building good relations with his neighbors.”

Bard let a small smile grace his lips. “Erebor’s new king has been most generous to Dale,” he replied. “In fact, it was his decision to open the mountain to us for the winter. Had he not done so, I fear many more would have perished from exposure to the elements and any roving orc packs, as Dale was in shambles after the battle. For that, I am grateful.”

So he had nothing against Fili as a king, Dis realized, but more as Fili the dwarf that seemed to have an interest in his eldest daughter. Fili meanwhile gave the man a gentle bow of his head in thanks, and Dis looked on with pride, though her heart ached at seeing her only living son have to wear the burden of the crown at such a young age. A metaphorical crown at least, as no actual crown graced his head. She would have to speak with him and Balin about what duties she could take off his hands.

Satisfied for now, she turned to the hobbit. “Master Baggins. I believe I have news that might be of interest to you.”

The hobbit perked up from his discussion of fruit trees with the elf and regarded the princess. She thought he gave a little flinch and noticed a sadness that passed his eyes, before he blinked and smiled at her.

“Well, I am all ears.”

“Myself and some of my company happened to stop by a tavern in your town of Hobbiton as we passed through the Shire.”

“Ah, the Green Dragon.” Bilbo nodded, ignoring the “I still don't understand why you'd name a place after a dragon,” from Nori. “Best ale and cider west of Bree,” Bilbo added.

“Well, as we ate, I couldn't help but hear some of the Halflings mention your good name, and the name of Baggins. It seems that some of your townsfolk believe you to be dead.”

Bilbo raised a brow. “Do they indeed?”

Dis nodded, tapping her chin as she tried to recall anything else of importance. “There was a female hobbit. Hmm, her dress was green, dark hair, funny looking hat on the head and the sourest face I have ever seen.”

“Lobelia Sackville-Baggins,” Bilbo growled the name, causing some of the Company to blink at their usually mild-mannered hobbit in surprise. “Go on.”

Somewhat amused, she continued. “She declared rather loudly that since you had not been seen since mid-summer that year, it was best to declare you dead, and your home abandoned and available to the highest bidder.”

Bilbo’s usually warm, merry eyes went cold in no little anger. “Oh really?” His voice was flat.

“I guess she took ‘over my dead body’ quite literally then,” Bofur laughed.

“I'll give her dead, by Durin!” Bilbo yelled much to the Dwarves’ amusement. “The only body they'll be dragging out of Bag End will be that miserable excuse for a relative!”

Balin chuckled as he passed the infuriated hobbit another pint of ale. “Alright, laddie, calm down. I’m sure your home will still be there when you get back.”

“And you know you always have a home here,” Fili said. “You are a Dwarf-friend of Erebor, and you will always have the loyalty of Durin’s line.”

Bilbo calmed considerably at that and smiled at the young king. “Thank you, Fili. And know that all of you are very welcome at Bag End as well.”

“I hope my news has not upset you, my friend,” Dis said. “That was never my intention.”

The hobbit waved his hand. “No, no. It’s alright. At least now I know what to expect on my return.”

“Maybe I should go with you,” Tilda spoke up again as Bard near-choked on his bread. “I can give that awful person a taste of some Dwarvish iron right in her-”

Dori cut her off as he turned a glare on his younger brother. “NORI!!”

“Oh good, here’s the dessert course,” Dis said.

==========

Chapter Text

Fili stood around in the hall as he waited the arrival of his mother. He turned when he heard the sound of footsteps that were too light to be a Dwarf and too heavy to be an Elf’s.

“Lord Bard,” he said in greeting.

“King Fili,” he replied, coming to stand beside him. “... You must be glad of your mother’s return to Erebor,” he said after a moment.

“I am. It’s good to see family again.” His tone remained light, though he was still wary of the man. They had not spoken informally since their disagreement on the hillside.

Bard let out a long breath. “I was too quick to judge you on the matter of the gold.” He looked at the floor before bringing his eyes up to meet Fili’s. “You are not your uncle, and you have proven you have the strength to resist it.”

“But you were not wrong,” Fili replied. “Neither of us can say what the future will bring. Even my great-grandfather resisted at first, perhaps. I do not know. Everyone says I will not succumb, but no one has given a thought about what happens if I do, except you. I need someone who will not be afraid to stand against me should I falter.”

The man nodded. “Let us hope it will never come to that. Dale values your friendship.”

Fili smiled a bit. “Just Dale?”

Bard’s lips quirked upwards. “Sigrid will not be swayed from you.” He took another breath. “You may court her, if she wishes it.”

Fili blinked then, and bowed low. “I thank you, Lord Bard.”

The man squeezed his shoulder, then nodded as his mother came down the hall towards them. “Be strong for her. This will be difficult.”

The young king sobered then. “I know.”

Bard bowed and took his leave and Fili offered his arm to Dis. She looped her arm through his and they headed for the crypts, Fili feeling her hand tighten the closer they got. He knew he had to support her, but how was he supposed to do that when his own heart still ached for his brother and uncle; when he would selfishly give up the entire mountain just to have them back. Sometimes he still asked himself: was the quest worth losing them?

They reached the entrance to the tombs and Fili stopped at the door. Dis released his arm and looked at him.

“I… You should…” Fili took a breath. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

Dis seemed to understand her son’s hesitance, and nodded. She headed into the room by herself while Fili positioned himself as guard so that she would not be disturbed - not that anyone else came down here, save for a member of the Company or Tauriel - and he tried to pretend the cries he heard were just underground air currents as they moved through the tunnels. He scrubbed a hand over his face, and it came away wet.

His mother came out some time later - how long, Fili didn’t know - and the two shared a wordless hug, drawing strength and comfort from each other. When Dis pulled back, her eyes were red and swollen, and Fili hugged her again, trying to reassure her she still had one son left. Dis’ hand stroked gently over his golden hair, and when she finally pulled back again, she seemed a bit stronger.

“This cursed mountain has taken far too much from me,” she said bitterly. “I only thank Mahal that you were strong enough not to follow them.”

“I wanted to,” Fili admitted. “Sometimes I still want to, especially before you arrived. I miss Kili so much, Amad.”

“I know, child.” Dis shook her head. “Curse that dragon, and curse the orc filth. Most of all, curse that thrice-damned gold.”

Fili nodded. “I cannot give it away fast enough, but Amad…” he swallowed tightly. “The sickness… What if it happens to me? What if I succumb? I don’t know if I am strong enough.”

Dis frowned. “You listen to me, Fili. I will lose no more of my family to that wretched treasure. You were not born here and subject to its call for most of your life. You lived a life where happiness came from simple things - family, food, friends. That was your treasure, and that is what you keep in your heart. Pride and wealth do not rule you like they did your forebears. You will NOT succumb to this, do you understand me?”

Something in Fili’s heart kindled then. It had been one thing to have all this told to him by others. It was another to hear it from his mother, the only remaining member of his immediate family. To hear those words in her voice made the ache in his heart lessen a bit.

He hugged her again. “I love you, Amad.”

“I love you, too, Fili,” she said. “Now come. We have shed our tears for Kili and Thorin. There is still much work to be done, and they would want us to get on with it.”

Fili smiled a bit. “Aye. Thorin would be impatient to get everyone settled in so that more hands could be freed to rebuild Erebor. The mines and forges still need much work if we are to get industry running again.”

Dis laughed as she and her son walked back up to the areas of the living. “Indeed… and you know what Kili would want?”

“Lots of things?” Fili asked as he joined her laughter.

“Kili would want you to wear a crown, as the rightful king of Erebor.”

==========

“Here, try it on, brother.”

Fili looked up from where he was wading knee-deep through a pile of coins to see his brother waving a small gold crown he had found in the massive hoard. Well, massive was an understatement. This was the biggest pile of treasure he’d ever laid eyes on, and it unnerved him how much his great-grandfather had managed to amass. Had it all come from Erebor’s mines and forges? Or what had they sold in turn?

“Brother?” Kili asked again. “Fi?”

Fili shook his head, snapping out of his musing and starting to make his way over to him. “Hold on, I’m coming.”

They had found a quiet corner of the treasury, behind a large mound of gold coins, to “search” as per their uncle’s order, to find this mythical Arkenstone neither of them could even imagine let alone recognize. In truth, they just wanted to keep some distance between themselves and the rest of the Company. Fili hadn’t liked the look he’d seen in some of their eyes.

He took the small crown from Kili’s hand and examined it. Gold of course, with an inlay of thin mithril going around it in a complex Dwarvish pattern. “I wonder who this was for.”

Kili shrugged. “I don’t think they’re coming back for it.”

“Well, the Elves still seem to want those white gems Uncle talked about.”

At mention of the Elves, Kili’s mood seemed to dim again, and Fili cursed himself for speaking without thinking. Of course Kili would still be thinking - and missing - a certain red-head he had fallen head-over-heels over, but surely he had to know how futile it was. Thorin - especially Thorin as he was now - would never even entertain the thought, let alone allow it.

“You think he’ll give them back?”

Fili frowned. “We both know he won’t, not when he’s like this. There’s no reasoning with him. I think he’s falling, Ki.”

Kili hunched over a bit more. “I know. I see it. He was already like this by the time we arrived. I know Bilbo warned us, but I didn’t want to believe it.” He sighed. “I think it’s affecting Gloin, too. Maybe Dori.”

The older prince tossed the crown away. “Sorry, Ki, but I don’t think I want to wear that right now.” He sat down on a pile of coins, facing his brother. “I can hear the gold call, y’know. It’s faint, but I think I can hear it. Can you?”

“I just hear a faint buzzing sound,” Kili replied. “Can’t hear any words though.”

Fili smiled a bit. “How could you? Your head’s full of that elf-lass.” He reached out and squeezed Kili’s knee. “Might be a good thing. Gold is not a pleasant sound.”

“Do you think I’ll ever see her again?”

“One day perhaps. She will live forever, after all. Maybe once Thorin has that silly stone of his again, he’ll calm down and you can talk to him about being an emissary to Mirkwood.”

Kili chuckled humorlessly. “Don’t let Uncle hear you call it a ‘silly stone’. He’ll get cross and yell at you for not respecting your family history.” He sighed. “I miss our Uncle, Fi. I don’t know who this person is that wears his face, but isn’t really HIM.”

“I know, Ki, but we must be patient. And we should also trust Bilbo. He’s gotten us out of scrapes before.”

“Well, yes, but somehow this doesn’t feel like just a scrape to me. This is like a… like a deep wound. Like my arrow wound - deep and laced with poison.”

Fili tried not to shudder at his brother’s words, because it was exactly what this felt like. Only they didn’t seem to have a magic herb and an Elven healer with them to draw out the poison. Instead, he poked Kili’s uninjured leg. “Careful, don’t get any more lyrical or the rest might think the elves have brainwashed you with poetry.”

Kili picked up a golden harp lying next to him and ran his fingers over the strings. “Remember when Uncle used to play that old wooden thing for us when we were little?”

“I do,” Fili replied, thinking back to happier, simpler times that he sometimes wished he could go back to. “And we tried to sing with him, only we were terrible singers.”

“Still are.”

“Nobody’s perfect.”

Kili gave him a half-smile. “Though I suppose we come close.”

Fili threw a handful of coins at him. “Ass,” he said good-naturedly. Then he cast his eyes about and picked up a pair of simple silver circlets. “Here. Let’s both try one on.”

“Silver?”

“Somehow I just don’t feel comfortable with gold. I don’t think I could ever wear it on my head and not be reminded of how it changed Thorin.” He shrugged. “Besides, I’d trade half this treasure right now for some good food, a mug of ale, a warm fire, and a nice bed.” He settled the circlet on his head as Kili did the same. “There, how do I look?”

“Almost as handsome as me,” was Kili’s reply. “Silver stands out on your hair anyway. Gold just gets lost in it. And it’s not like you can’t change the rules and wear whatever crown you want when you’re king.”

“See? You do have good ideas sometimes.”

“Hey!” This time it was Fili who had a handful of coins thrown at his face. Kili snorted at him and plucked a half-hearted tune on the harp. “Things will get better though, won’t they? We have Bilbo, and Gandalf will be back soon. Surely they can pull Thorin out of this… whatever it is.”

“I’m sure they’ll try, Ki,” Fili replied wanting to believe it as much as Kili did.

Kili was about to reply when he suddenly sat up straighter, taking off the circlet as he did so and gesturing to Fili to do the same. Someone was coming over. Dropping the items back onto the coins, they stood to make as if they were still searching, as Balin came into view. Fili could see the weariness etched into the lines of the old dwarf’s face.

“What is it?” Kili asked, even as Fili felt his heart drop to his boots.

“Thorin has summoned us to the gate,” Balin said. “The survivors from Laketown have reached Dale.”

==========

Fili stood in his room and stared at his reflection in the mirror. The dwarf that looked back at him didn’t look like the simple dwarrow lad from Ered Luin. He looked older, more weary and there was a deep sadness in his eyes that Fili knew hadn’t been there before they left the Blue Mountains. He shifted his shoulders under the heavy cloak, wishing he could have just worn his simple shirt and tunic, but those were hardly fitting for an occasion such as this.

There was a knock on the door before Balin popped his head in. “Everything is ready for you, my king.”

“I hope everyone’s behaving themselves.”

“They are,” Balin chuckled. “Dain and Thranduil insulted each other briefly by way of greeting, but both have been on their best behaviour since then.”

Fili shook his head. “One day they’ll either end up killing each other or kissing each other. I’m not sure which one is more likely at this point.”

“A matter to be debated at another time. For now, we must be on our way. Wouldn’t want to keep everyone waiting.”

Fili followed his dearest adviser out of the room and down the hall. “They’d wait another hundred years if it was up to me.”

“Unfortunately I don’t believe Lord Bard will be around that long, and he is as eager to see you crowned as anyone else.” Balin led him into a small chamber that adjoined the great hall where the coronation was set to take place.

Once they were within, he heard the trumpets begin a fanfare that would precede his appearance on the elevated platform that held the throne. Crossing the room to the door from which he would emerge, he opened it a crack to see what was going on amongst the guests. The Elves of the Woodland Realm and the folk of Dale and Laketown lined the two sides of the hall, while a mass of Dwarves from both the Iron Hills and the Blue Mountains, including Erebor’s former refugees, occupied the main floor in the centre. Bilbo, Dain, and the rest of the Company save for Bifur, himself and Balin, stood on either side of the stairs leading to the throne.

His mother already sat upon the dais, as Princess of Erebor. Tauriel he saw talking to Thranduil, and Fili was glad to see that he seemed to be treating her kindly, no trace of anger on his ageless face. Bard’s two daughters stood with him at the head of the Dale-folk. There was still a rustic quality about them - their garments were not as grand, given that seamstresses and tailors still didn’t have much to work with by way of fabrics - that Fili appreciated. His eyes settled on Sigrid, shining golden in a dress of steel-blue over which was layered a familiar blue scarf. She could have worn rags and Fili would have still found her beautiful.

Finally, his eyes rested on the small plinth between the throne and the chair Balin would occupy, on which sat a deep blue cushion bearing a simple circlet of silver. He swallowed tightly, as the trumpets changed their tune to welcome him to the hall.

Balin joined him at the door, and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It is time, lad.”

Fili nodded at him and squared his shoulders, as Balin opened the door fully for him to walk out. He kept his head held high, like he remembered Thorin used to do, and tried to keep his feet and his heart as light as Kili’s used to be, willing himself not to falter under the gaze of so many who would depend on him for their very lives.

He stood in front of the rebuilt throne, carved from the mountain’s own stone, and looked at his mother who was smiling proudly at him, before looking out over the gathered throng towards where Sigrid stood. Tilda beamed and waved happily at him, and he smiled back at her before turning his gaze to the young woman beside her, who very boldly blew him a kiss. Fili blushed as red as Balin’s robes, and his mother snorted in fond exasperation.

Balin stepped out to deliver a short welcome to Erebor’s people and her invited guests, before moving on to the main rites of the coronation. These would normally be chanted in Khuzdul, but Balin spoke in the Common Tongue for the benefit of those non-dwarrow in attendance. He turned to Fili as he ended, and Fili stepped forward to say his oaths, taking the words to his heart and swearing to do well by them.

As he spoke, he thought for a moment that he could feel Thorin and Kili beside him, giving him their blessing. Perhaps he would be able to do this after all.

“Kneel, lad,” Balin said softly as he lifted the crown from it’s pillow.

Fili’s knee had just touched the floor when the doors to the great hall suddenly burst open. Cries of surprise echoed around the room, and the hall rang with the sound of drawn weapons, before a voice boomed over the cacophony that had Fili jumping to his feet.

“PEACE! Peace, be at peace all of you.” The crowd of Dwarves parted down the middle to reveal a familiar pointed hat. “Pray, sheath your weapons. We mean you no harm.”

“Gandalf,” Fili sighed, then raised his voice. “Stand down!” He took a moment to be thankful that everyone listened to him, and silently praised the acoustics of the hall. Then he turned back to properly appraise the new arrivals.

The Grey Wizard it seemed had not come alone. Radagast the Brown and Beorn the Skinchanger walked behind him, and the three took up position with the company.

“I apologize for our tardiness, your highness,” he said. “But I fear we had to take the long way around yet again, as the rabbits still refuse to cross the lake on the barge.”

“Well, it’s not their fault!” Radagast puffed up in defense of his beloved animals as Beorn looked on in silent amusement. “Not all of them have learned to swim yet.”

Balin cleared his throat. “If we may continue?”

“Yes, yes, of course. Please.” Gandalf bowed and nudged his fellow Wizard to be quiet.

Fili knelt once more, and Balin gently placed the circlet on his head, declaring to the entire hall: “Rise, Fili, son of Dis, daughter of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain!”

==========

The feasting and celebrations were well into their fourth hour when Fili decided he needed a break from all the festivities to think a little and just breathe. He longed to change back into his work-clothes and build something, but had to settle for shedding the cloak instead. His feet eventually brought him to the gate where relaxing guards immediately snapped back to attention. He waved them off, along with their concerns that he shouldn’t venture onto the road without an escort. He was just about to snap at the insistent dwarf when he sensed movement behind him.

“Not to worry, I’ll be his guard.” Fili was not surprised to find Bilbo at his elbow. The Hobbit moved almost as silently as the Elves, which was the whole reason he had been chosen to be the burglar in the first place. “We’re both decently armed, and we won’t be going far anyway. Just a little up the hill. You’ll be able to see us the whole time.”

Without giving the guards a chance to reply, Fili followed him out. “I owe you my thanks for that.”

“You mustn’t let them bully you,” Bilbo replied. “Remember, you’re the king. Well, you’ve been the king for a while now, but today it’s official. Even Thranduil seems satisfied. He seems to hold you in high regard.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

They sat down on a rock together and took out their pipes, and Fili took the moment to observe the land. Summer was spreading its warmth through the land. The grass was growing longer in places and the wildflowers were gaining more color. The fields that they had managed to farm near the river were already starting to sprout crops.

Beyond the fields, Dale glowed with life and color, as more buildings were painted, and houses turned back into homes. A few already sported window boxes filled with vibrant flowers and fresh herbs, and slowly, its markets were starting to come back to life, too. Erebor would have to be ready. Laketown had progressed to mid-construction with the help of the wood elves and some fishermen had returned to what dwellings were already finished, so every other week, Dale and Erebor received a good supply of fish, for which Fili paid for generously.

“Y’know you really need to do something about Ravenhill,” Bilbo spoke up as he blew out a smoke ring. “That’s the only place left that’s not been rebuilt after the battle.”

Fili flinched at mention of its name. He hadn’t thought about, nor indeed even looked at that hill since the day he had ridden up to it on the back of a goat, with his uncle, his brother and Dwalin. Since the day…

“Let it rot.”

“That’s not like you.”

“I have no need for that cursed place.”

“You had the ruins of Laketown razed to prevent orcs from turning it into a place where they could gather. So far, we have been lucky they chose not to do so with Ravenhill. Now you need to decide whether to demolish it completely, or resettle it.”

Fili rested his head in his hands, feeling the cold silver against his fingers. “You know, I came out here to get away from responsibilities for a while. Not to take more on.”

Bilbo looked at the young dwarf and sighed. Sometimes he did look a bit too young to bear the crushing weight of a mountain. “You have to let them go, Fili.” He gently rubbed the king’s back. “Horrible things happened up there. I know. I was there. I watched what happened to you, if you remember. You and… and Thorin.”

“You speak of letting go, but you haven’t let go of Thorin, have you?”

The hobbit looked down at his feet and the grass between his toes. “No… and I don’t know if I ever will. He was… He was a…”

This time it was Fili who gently patted the hobbit’s back. “I know.”

“You have to be stronger than I am, Fili. You have to settle Ravenhill.”

“It’s that important to you?”

Bilbo frowned and looked at him again. “Not to me… not… I just don’t want Erebor to be attacked again, like it was in the winter.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how to explain it, but having listened to Gandalf and Radagast talking… there maybe more battles to come. Erebor needs to be ready. Dale, too, but Erebor all the more because you’re the fortress should things get dire.”

Fili looked serious now. “You speak of that enemy the wizards have mentioned?”

Bilbo gave a half-shrug. “I can barely understand half of what they’re saying even on a good day, but better to be safe than sorry, as they say.”

“I’ll bring it up at the next meeting.”

The hobbit nodded. “Good. Now that that’s settled, I think it’s time I told you that… I’m leaving with Gandalf once he’s ready to leave Erebor.”

The dwarf king smiled sadly. “I thought you would.”

Bilbo knocked the ash out of his pipe a little harder than intended. “It’s not that I’m glad to go. It’s just that, after the news your mother brought, I need to get back there and see what has become of Bag End, and maybe fight a few battles of my own - though less bloody I hope.”

They shared a laugh, and Fili clasped his shoulder. “I hope you haven’t lost your home while you helped us reclaim ours. But should you run into difficulty and need help, just send word and we will come.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, as a last resort.” Bilbo reached over and patted his cheek fondly. “It’s not goodbye forever, you know that. I’d love to come back and visit in a few years’ time, see how much you’ve done with the place.”

“And you will always have a home here, Dwarf-friend.”

“As you will, at Bag End. My door is open to you and the rest of the Company any time. So don’t bother knocking.”

“I will miss you, Bilbo Baggins.”

“I’ll miss you, too, King Under the Mountain.”

==========

Chapter Text

A week later, Fili watched as Skinchanger, Wizards and Hobbit rode off from the gates of Erebor, his heart heavy as he bade farewell to their beloved burglar along with the rest of the Company. Bilbo had already said his goodbyes to Tauriel before heading to the gates, and the elf had then retreated to her rooms. Dis had promised to look after her.

As their retreating figures grew smaller, the Dwarves filed back into the mountain a few at a time, comforting and supporting each other at this new loss, for they had all come to love the little hobbit in their own way. At last there was only Fili left, and he only stirred when a gentle hand touched his shoulder.

“Sigrid.”

“I’m here for you, Fili.”

“Will you walk with me? There is something I could use your thoughts on.”

“Lead the way,” she replied without hesitation.

He studied her for a moment and she raised her brows at him as if asking what he was waiting for. He gave a helpless smile and shrug before offering her his arm and leading her out, again heedless of the guards’ warnings to take an escort for protection.

“They’re going to scold you one day,” she said.

“I don’t need babysitters. I’m quite capable of looking after myself; I’ve done so for the last eighty-odd years.”

“No one doubts that,” she replied patiently. “But you’re the king now, and it’s their duty to protect you. Who will lead them, if something happens to you?” She held up a hand to stop him speaking. “And don’t you dare say your mother or Dain. I never took you as someone who shied away from the responsibility and care of your people.”

Fili flushed and ducked his head. “No, you’re right, and I don’t. To be honest, I’m just not used to it. I grew up with little, Sig. We weren’t much better off than when you lived in Laketown. Going from that to… wearing a crown and having guards. It’s strange.”

“I understand that, Fili. I really do. I’ve gone from a simple girl of the Lake, to Lady of Dale. It’s something I’m getting used to as well, but you just have to adapt.”

“It’s a little harder for Dwarves. We are stone.”

“Is that a poetic way of saying you’re all just stubborn as rocks?”

He laughed. “You have a clearer way of putting things.”

“I suppose so.” She squeezed his arm as they crossed a narrow bridge over a river. “So is it that you can’t change, or you just don’t want to?”

Fili took a moment to think about this. “Somewhere in the middle, I suppose.”

He started to lead her up the steps that were cut into the hillside - seemingly endless flights of stairs that wound up the side of the slope beside a waterfall that poured down into the river below. Sigrid followed him, the spray coming off the waterfall refreshing them both as they climbed. If Fili slowed the nearer he got to the top, she put it down as weariness from the trek.

“You don’t have to do this now,” she said.

“If I don’t, I may never. And this is something I need to take care of before winter comes again.” His face was pale, and sweat dotted his brow as they reached the top and stepped onto near flat rock again.

It was much different than what Fili remembered it being almost six months ago. The ice and snow had since melted and grasses and weeds had sprung up amongst the fallen rocks and bare patches of earth. The bodies of the orcs, he knew, had been removed almost immediately following the battle and burned, while Azog’s body, Dwalin had said, had been summarily carved into several pieces before those were burned as well.

No traces of blood - neither Orc nor Dwarvish - could be seen, washed away with the rain and melting snow and ice.

Walking further along the near bank of the river that ran between the two watchtowers, Fili tried to focus on the ruins that lay on that side of the river. He only noticed that Sigrid was not with him when he turned to speak to her and realized she was not at his side. His face paling, he saw that she stood where Thorin, Dwalin and Bilbo had stood, looking up at the tower Azog had thrown him from.

He forced his eyes to follow her gaze and looked at the top of the tower - remembering clearly how he’d looked down at them, prepared to die. Though he hadn’t been truly ready for the pain that came with it. He shivered and sat on the nearest rock, staring down at the grass and forcing his heart to slow its frantic beating.

“Breathe, Fili. Just breathe. It’s alright.” Sigrid’s calm voice pierced the roaring in his ears as she soothed him gently. “We don’t have to go over to that side. Not today.” She sat beside him. “It’s alright.”

Fili finally raised his head to rest it on her shoulder as he leaned against her arm. “I don’t know what to do with this place. How can I, when I can’t even bear to look at it?”

“Then destroy it,” she said. “The towers, everything. Destroy it.”

“We still need it. It looks over everything; bird’s eye view and all that. It’s how Azog was able to command his forces. It would be folly to leave it unguarded and unused.”

“Bird’s eye view, you said?” Sigrid asked. “And it’s name - Ravenhill - were there a lot of ravens here before?”

“Oin said they used to live here in my great-grandfather’s time, before the dragon came. The Dwarves and Ravens of Erebor have always had a good relationship with each other. A few ravens still live in Erebor, along the mountainside, but none have returned here, that I know of.”

“Then maybe it’s time to give the ravens their home back.”

The young king tilted his head as he looked at her, then back out across the river, trying to imagine it - the towers gone, in their places great trees with a stone bridge across the river. The ravens would be the perfect sentries and guards to warn of encroaching danger. Where the river fell away into the waterfall, they would build two monuments of stone, one on each side, in tribute to the fallen folk of Laketown and Dale, and the Dwarves of Erebor and the Iron Hills. Yes. He would return Ravenhill to the ravens.

Sigrid watched him. “Fili?”

“You are one of the cleverest people I have ever met, dear Sigrid,” he said. “Also one of the kindest, and most beautiful.”

A blush stained her cheeks though she did not look away. “Oh, you and your flattery.” She chuckled.

“No, I mean it.” Fili’s face was wholly serious. “I would have died if not for you tending me each day. I would have gladly followed my brother back then.”

“Would you still? If it came to it?” she asked.

“Not so soon,” he replied, and found that he meant it. “It’s like you said, I’m not one to run away from my duties. I can’t leave Erebor and her lands undefended, not when I know there’s still a storm to come.”

“A storm?”

“Aye. Bilbo said the battle was just the beginning, and if there truly is more to come, then I want to be ready for it. I will not have Erebor fall in my lifetime. Though…” He took her hand in his. “If you are willing, it would please me greatly to have you at my side through it all.”

Sigrid blinked at him then, grey eyes widening as she met his earnest blue. “What are you asking?”

“I’m asking, Lady of Dale, if you would allow this fool king the honor of courting you.” Fili smiled then. “In the hopes that maybe one day, you would consent to being queen of Erebor.”

Her mouth dropped open, and Fili dared to lean in and kiss her softly, sighing happily when she briefly kissed him back before pushing him away with a laugh. “Stupid dwarf.”

“Is that a ‘yes’ then?” He grinned impishly

She shoved him off the rock. “I’ll let you figure it out.”

==========

Summer was ending when Fili went down to the crypts again, entering the silent chamber that housed the tombs of his uncle and brother. As he’d done so many times before, he sat beside Kili’s tomb, resting his head back against the stone.

“Just think, last year we were already on our journey to Erebor,” he said to Kili and no one in particular. “I still wonder if we would have gone with Thorin if we knew what would happen in the end. But that’s how it is, isn’t it? You can’t see the end till you get there, and if we hadn’t gone, we would have never met Gandalf, or Bilbo, or Tauriel or Sigrid.” He took the crown off his head and turned it around in his hands. “Still trying to get used to having this on my head, and guards following me around, but Dwalin says he’ll chain me to the throne if I dare to go running off on my own again. Balin is hoping Sig will be able to keep me in one place.”

A light scuffing made him peer over to the doorway.

“Come in, Tauriel,” he said.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” she said as she entered and came over to where he sat on the floor. “Dori’s going to scold you if you get dust on that robe. He just made it a week ago.”

Fili waved a hand. “I’ll wash it.” He looked at her. “Any news?”

“A thrush from the Woodland Realm brought a message: Bifur, young Bain and the others have passed safely through Mirkwood and will be on their way home shortly, with plenty of horses and ponies, and Dain says the goats should be arriving shortly as well. Bofur and Nori have been getting the stables ready for their arrival.

“Good news!” Fili patted the ground beside him for her to sit. “I’ll reply to King Thranduil later. What do you want to ask me?

Tauriel smiled a bit as she eased into a cross-legged seating posture next to him. “Ravenhill. I wonder if you might permit me to move there with the birds, once the trees have grown.”

Fili tilted his head. “You’re not happy here?”

“I’ve been very happy in Erebor, but I am still a Wood Elf, Fili. I miss the trees, though I thank you for giving me the stars. I would like to build a small dwelling there, to live amongst the trees once more.”

“But you’ll be alone.”

“Hardly. I will have the ravens. And all of you are more than welcome to visit me there. No, a home amongst the trees will heal my heart greatly if not completely.”

Fili nodded in understanding. “Then you shall have it. And the Dwarves shall help you build it.”

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

He grinned. “I won’t mention to Sigrid that you did that.”

==========

Epilogue

Spring was starting to return to the Lonely Mountain. Fili felt it in the air as he stood on his balcony and looked out over the landscape towards the lush green of Ravenhill and the bright city of Dale beyond. Tauriel would soon return to her forest home upon its slopes, having sheltered in the Mountain for the winter, and he made a mental note to send a messenger to Dale, to check with Lord Brand if all had been well there over the winter. He wasn’t too worried about the Woodland Realm - they had been here far longer.

He returned to his room, letting his eyes linger - as they always did, every morning - on the portrait of his wife of sixty years. It had been painted not longer after she had become queen. He rubbed his own beard - thicker and fuller now, though still short in tribute to his uncle; still golden though now shot through with a bit of silver.

“I wish you could see this morning,” he said to the image. “As I wish you could every morning that you are not with me.”

She now lay beside Thorin and Kili - her last wish. She had said her father would understand her wanting to rest within the mountain, rather than in Dale with him and her own brother. Her death had been peaceful, passing away in her sleep from old age, like her father before her and her brother after her.

There was a light knock on the door before it opened and a dark head of unruly hair popped in, brown eyes set in a youthful face scanning the room before resting on him. “Da?”

Fili looked to his son. “Yes, Kari?”

“The guard sent me to find you,” said the young dwarf - half-dwarf, Fili reminded himself. “There is a strange messenger at the gates.”

“Strange messenger?” Fili straightened, reaching for his coat. “Like a Wizard?”

“No, not the Grey or the Brown. The guards know them and would have let them enter without question. They say this one is clad in black, and they can see no face.” He scratched at the shadow of a beard only just starting to grow. “They seemed very frightened.”

Fili strapped a sword to his side and slid two knives under his coat, just in case. “Lead on.”

They hurried - though neither ran - to the main gates, Fili’s personal guard falling in behind him. As they neared the gate, Fili felt a chill blow through the hall that was unusual for Spring, and made the hairs on the back on his neck rise up in warning. He stepped past the doors and only took a moment to regard the figure sitting on a black horse across the bridge from him. Fili had no intentions of crossing it.

“Kari, stay inside.” His voice brooked no arguments.

“Greetings, to the King Under the Mountain,” the figure said. Definitely not a Dwarf, but Fili could not see past the black cloak to identify it as Human or Elf. The voice made his fingers twitch towards his sword, but he forced his hands to be still. “I come on behalf of my master to seek your aid.”

“In what manner and matter?” Fili asked.

“My master understands that on your journey to the mountain, sixty years ago, you befriended a halfling by the name of Baggins.”

Fili resisted the urge to have this strange being shot for daring to even mention Bilbo’s name. He knew there were archers hidden above him, all trained by Tauriel herself. “What of it?” he asked, putting all of Thorin’s gruffness into the question.

“During your time in the Misty Mountains, he picked up something, perhaps by accident, that once belonged to my master.”

“Who is your master?”

“My master is willing to offer you, King Under the Mountain, a great reward if you could but provide us with this halfling’s name, and where we might find him.”

Fili raised a brow. “A reward, you say? What might that be?”

“Nothing less than one of the Seven.”

There was a gasp from behind him, but Fili did not turn. “No.”

The figure shifted uneasily on his horse. “You would not benefit your people to have my master as an enemy.”

“Is that a threat?” Fili asked.

“Merely an observation.”

The king drew himself up. “Your master has been my enemy ever since the day he sent his orc-filth to these lands. Your master is responsible for the death of many of my kin! Did you think the Dwarves of Durin’s Line so easily bought? We do not betray one of our own, and we will never be enslaved to the will of your master.”

The dark figure hissed and looked to draw a weapon.

“Do that,” Fili said, “and you will not live to return to your master.”

“Fools!” it spat at them. “You will all die.”

“Begone from these lands.” Fili growled out.

The horse squealed as its rider wrenched its head around and galloped down the road. Fili waited till it was out of sight, before allowing himself to shiver. Then he turned and strode back inside, calling for guards.

“Summon Lord Brand from Dale immediately. Tell him to double the watch on the walls of Dale and prepare his people for evacuation to the Mountain.” He nodded to his son, Tauriel, and the rest of the Company that gathered. “Tauriel, ride to the Woodland Realm, alert King Thranduil. Before you go, tell the ravens to be vigilant for any host approaching from the south-east.”

“Fili, by the King’s law I am still banished from his kingdom,” she said

“I will give you a letter that will grant you entry.”

Tauriel nodded and bowed before striding off to do as he asked.

“Nori, get a message to Dain in the Iron Hills. Tell him to be on guard and to be ready for battle at any time.”

“Aye, your Majesty, but what’s the rush? You talk like there’s a war coming.”

Fili looked at all them sadly. “I’m afraid there is. The evil that Gandalf and Bilbo spoke of so long ago, the Battle for the Mountain, that messenger at the gate… I fear there is a greater battle approaching against all the Free Peoples of Middle-earth, and we have to be ready. We cannot - will not - be caught off-guard again.”

“That black rider mentioned halflings. He mentioned Bilbo,” Gloin said. “Our burglar may be in danger.”

Fili nodded. “Ori, Gimli, take guards and ride west. Get to the Shire and warn Bilbo. Better yet, bring him back here, or if danger reaches you first, get him to Rivendell. You’ll be protected there.” The named Dwarves bowed to their king and hurried away.

“Da, let me do something. I want to be useful.”

Fili looked at his son, almost the spitting image of Kili, bright-eyed and eager to help. “Alright. Get the archers trained and see to their watches. I also want you to take care of your aunt Tilda when she arrives. Be alert. I’m counting on you to defend those who will be unable to defend themselves.” He looked to the others. “The rest of you, make rooms ready for the people of Dale, and prepare the Mountain for war.”

The Dwarves obeyed their king and dispersed to carry out his orders until only one was left. She nodded proudly at him.

===========

Fili smiled grimly at Dis. “Amad…”

Dis cupped his cheek. “My dear golden boy. You are a good and brave king.”

“I didn’t do all of this alone, you know that,” he said.

“No good king rules alone, nor does he fight alone. Remember that.”

“Yes, Amad.” Fili hugged her tightly, then stepped back, steeling himself to lead the charge against the orc host advancing on Erebor’s gates.

“Be careful,” she said.

He nodded. “Keep an eye on Kari.”

“Always.” She cupped his face and drew his head down till they bumped foreheads. “Return to me, my golden dwarrow.”

“I will, Amad. I promise.”

~ END.