With encouragement from many different people I finally got this chapter written. My life is a little crazy at the moment, due to the fact that I upped and moved from the UK to Japan. Quite a change. So I now live in Japan teaching English at a Japanese high school. It's a big adjustment, living on my own for the first time and in a country that doesn't speak English as it's first language, plus my Japanese is pretty bad, but I'm getting used to it. Anyways, I've been here since the beginning of August and I had a bit of free time during the school's summer holiday to get this written. It was just going to be an epilogue but it got carried away. Majorly carried away! So there's going to be another chapter after this to finish everything off.

So I hope you enjoy this chapter and look forward to the rest. I hope it won't take as long for me to update it. Thanks to everyone for being so patient with me. It's a combination of no muse, no time and maybe a little (a lot) of laziness :P

However, I'm also in the process of editing the whole story, having read back over my work and cringed in horror at parts. So it's worth a re-read at some point when I finish swapping the old chapters for their edited versions...

Disclaimer: As usual, nothing owned here!

Enjoy!

Recovery, Forgiveness and a Glimpse into The Future

The next morning it was decided by the healers that Kíli was well enough to be moved back to his home, as long as he rested properly and did nothing to aggravate his injury. Fíli dived into mother hen mode and hovered close by as often as he could; ready to wait on his younger brother's every whim. However, for the first two days upon arriving home, Kíli was still very tired from his ordeal and slept for a lot of the day. So Fíli set up a stringent guard by his brother's bedside, ready to help or look after Kíli should the moment arise.

Balin and Dwalin were regular visitors, popping round on the pretense that Dís, of course, needed daily and maybe even twice daily updates on the state of the weaponry, forges, mountain defences, even food hall supplies. Dís however was not fooled. She knew how many hearts her son touched. Even Bofur, brother of Bombur, stopped by upon hearing the news of Thorin's nephew's accident.

For most of the visits, Kíli was fast asleep, though he awoke a few minutes before the strange hat-wearing dwarf appeared and happily, if a little tiredly, greeted the older dwarf. Every evening Thorin would appear for dinner, more often than not followed by Balin and Dwalin. Dís did not mind, they were all friends and she always cooked enough to feed a dwarf army. Plus the appearance of the three dwarfs helped to distract Fíli.

"How's the wee tyke doing?" Balin asked, drawing in a lungful of smoke from his pipe as he, Dwalin and Dís sat around the fireplace. Thorin had taken Fíli to the barracks to distract him with training. No weapons. They had both had enough of weapons for the near future. So Thorin concentrated on unarmed combat instead, which Fíli was taking to like a duck to water- as Thorin knew he would.

"He's getting stronger every day," Dís said. "He was awake earlier for a few hours and was able to eat a little. Thorin has kept Fíli occupied for most of today, which I think Fíli needed as well. He has been by his brother's side constantly for the last few days."

Dwalin nodded. "I saw them in the barracks. Fíli's form is good."

"He takes after his father and uncle in that regard," Balin chimed in. "And of course his mother. You are a Durín after all." He added quickly.

Dís raised an eyebrow and smiled knowingly.

"Mama?"

Dís shot around immediately at the sound of her youngest. Kíli was standing in the doorway to the bedroom he shared with Fíli, a blanket half wrapped around him, half tucked comfortingly under one arm. He looked a little pale but he stood steadily.

His mother moved to him at once, kneeling beside him and stroking his forehead soothingly. "How are you feeling Kíli?"

"Hungry," Kíli said, gnawing on his bottom lip.

"It's a good job I stopped Dwalin here eating all the pie tonight then," Balin smiled at the dwarfling as Dís carried him to the table, carefully setting him down. Kíli gave the white bearded dwarf a small smile.

"Where's Fee?" Kíli asked as he took a small bite of the food Dís put in front of him. In his groggy state he had reverted to using his brother's nickname. He clearly favoured his good side and sat a little awkwardly upon the chair. Dwalin moved towards the fireplace and snagged a large pillow from Thorin's chair. Balin realised his plan and with Dís' help, lifted Kíli and placed him upon the cushion, the softer material easier to lean against then the hard back of the wooden chair.

"Fíli is with your uncle," Dís said, coaxing her son to eat more. "He will be back-"

"Kíli!"

"-now it seems," Dís sighed as Fíli and Thorin arrived home. Fíli immediately noticed his brother was up and kicked his boots off hastily at his mother's warning stare, before hurrying over to the table to his brother.

"Kíli are you alright? Does it hurt? Should you be out of bed? Has he got a fever?" Fíli looked up at his mother anxiously.

"Fíli your brother is fine. Look, he's even eating dinner. Come and sit at the table and eat your own. Thorin you too," Dís said, noticing her brother's own, less than subtle hovering behind his youngest nephew. The dwarf leader blinked before nodding shortly and sitting down opposite Kíli, as Fíli had already commandeered the chair next to his brother in case he needed something. Ravenous from his day of training, the older brother still found time to help the younger brother, much to the amusement of the four older dwarfs around the table.

Eventually, Kíli had enough and cracked. He was tired and a little cranky from all the medicines he had been taking and his brother had pushed too far.

"Fíli! I'm fine!" Kíli snapped as his brother tried to hold his fork for him. "I'm not a baby! So leave me alone!"

The adults winced. His chastised brother shrank back, looking shocked. "Kíli…"

Kíli looked a little shocked himself out his outburst. He took a big mouthful of food just so he didn't have to say anything. There was an awkward silence hanging over the table as the adults knew better to interfere. This had to be sorted out by the brothers. Fíli looked stricken as he stared glumly at his own dinner, moving the food around the plate in a half-hearted manner. Dís surveyed her sons and sighed inwardly. The peaceful, contented atmosphere had disappeared.

"I can't eat anymore," Kíli announced. Fíli looked as though he was going to protest; his brother had barely eaten anything and needed to keep his strength up, but his mouth snapped shut. He did not want to antagonize his brother anymore.

Dís nodded. "I think it's time you went back to bed Kíli," she suggested gently, loathe to set off her grumpy son again. To her surprise, Kíli nodded without fuss, even letting his mother pick him up and carry him to his bed.

Fíli watched all this in silence, trying not to fidget. His brother would not let him look after him. He felt adrift and stared at his plate instead. Balin placed a comforting hand on the small dwarf's slumped shoulders.

"Give him time, laddie. He's had an exhausting few days. Dwarves are always crabby after they take the medicines Kíli has been taking. He'll be back to his normal self in a couple of days, you'll see. Then you can go back to mothering him as much as you want."

Fíli nodded slowly, still looking rather dejected.

"Fíli?" his mother called out. Fíli's head shot up, blonde braids swinging.

"Your brother wants you," Dís said with a soft smile. Those magic words seemed to jolt her son back to life and he pushed away his dinner, already hurrying across the room to the bedroom he shared with Kíli. Dís moved aside to let him pass and patted his head once before leaving her sons to it. They would make up as they always did and finally there would be peace in the Durín house.

Fíli stepped into the darkened room, lit only by a lamp on the bedside table. Kíli was already in bed, propped up on pillows. He looked tired; Fíli could see the bags under his eyes. He hesitated in the doorway. Then Kíli held extended a small hand, clearly reaching out for his older brother. Fíli needed no other invitation and was across and by his brother's side in a heartbeat.

"Kíli?"

"M'sorry Fee," Kíli whispered. "Didn't mean…just tired."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry too," Fíli said, taking and gently squeezing his little brother's hand as it sort his own. "I just…I couldn't protect you. The other day. It scared me so much Kíli…you were just lying there. And the blood and I thought…I thought…" Fíli could feel tears building as he remembered the heart stopping moment he had found his brother on the floor.

The brothers had not talked about the accident. They had not had time to heal, to forgive, even if both thought the other had nothing to apologise for. Now it was Kíli's turn to offer comfort to his older brother.

"It was my fault," he said, trying to sit up a little. "I was stupid. I was…jealous and angry. You didn't do anything wrong," Kíli said, sounding much more grown up than Fíli had ever heard him. "I didn't mean to be angry today. You protect me. But you can't be there all the time."

"I will always protect you," Fíli promised vehemently.

"If you let me protect you too," Kíli shot back. "When you need it."

Fíli nodded, choking a little. Kíli squeezed his brother's hand tightly as he yawned.

"You need to sleep Kíli."

Kíli rolled his eyes. "I know," he said. "You do too. Come here."

Fíli had no choice in the matter it seemed. Making sure Kíli was snuggly and securely tucked underneath the blankets, Fíli settled on top, careful to avoid his brother's injured side. They had not shared a bed in a few years, not since Kíli had been petrified the globlins would get him at night and sought out his older brother's protection.

"You'll get cold," Kíli warned sleepily, eyes almost shut. "Just get under."

Fíli blinked in surprise but he could not argue with his brother's logic. So he slipped underneath the warm woollen blanket, basking in the warmth and the knowledge that his brother had forgiven him. At that moment everything was perfect.

"Love you, you idiot," Kíli mumbled as he drifted off, one hand tightly wrapped in his brother's sleeve, as if to prevent him leaving.

Fíli felt his heart contract sharply. "Love you too, Kíli," he murmured.

Neither young dwarf realised that all four adults were standing in the doorway. Dís was dabbing at her eyes with the corner of her apron while Balin grinned unashamedly. Dwalin and Thorin may have looked unmoved but their stoic masks rarely shifted, no matter what they felt. And inside both felt deeply in that moment as they gazed upon the sleeping brothers, blonde hair mixing with brown as they slumbered peacefully beside each other.

Thorin sat by the campfire, staring into the dancing orange flames. He could hear the company talking and laughing quietly a little way away. Tonight he sat apart, as he always did. The solemn and aloof leader. Sometimes Gandalf sat with him, smoking his pipe in his wizardly way, entertaining himself and some of the dwarf with impressive smoke rings. However the wizard had gone off by himself again, to "scout ahead" he had said, disappearing into the gloom. Thorin had simply nodded; there was no stopping the old wizard when his mind was set.

Thorin looked up as he heard his youngest nephew's voice rise above the others of the company. Kíli was clearly protesting against something and it had the other dwarfs laughing uproariously as Kíli argued back. Thorin shook his head.

"You're quiet tonight." The log Thorin was sitting on shuddered as Dwalin dropped down unceremoniously beside his leader. "Quieter than usual."

Thorin grunted and glanced up at his long-time friend and right hand dwarf.

"It was a mistake," he admitted after a long silence between them. He looked back at the fire. Dwalin made no move to prompt him for his explanation, for which Thorin was glad. This was difficult enough already. "I should not have brought Fíli and Kíli as part of the company."

Dwalin stretched his arms, cracking a shoulder. "Seems to me, you'd o' had no choice," he said simply. "They'd a come no matter what. Even if you'd said no. The sneaky brothers would have come along anyway, one way or another."

Thorin glared at the fire, as though it was the bane of all his problems. "They are reckless and they are going to get themselves hurt. And I will not be able to protect them."

Dwalin raised an eyebrow. So that was what this talk was about. The uncle was feeling inadequate about protecting his nephews, rather than the leader berating his choice of company on their mission. Thorin was just wrapping it up and pretending it was something else.

"They're an asset to the company," Dwalin said gruffly instead. "And they both do you credit Thorin. They're ready for whatever lies ahead; you've made sure of that. There's nothing else you could have done."

Thorin reached into his boot and withdrew the dagger there, turning it over and over in his palm. In his nightmares it was still stained red, red with the blood of his kin, his youngest nephew. Of course it was a different dagger to the one Kíli had injured himself upon, as in a fit of rage Thorin had thrown it at the rock wall of the Blue Mountains; with such force the delicate blade had been dented. A dwarven smithy could easily have repaired it, but Thorin had left it.

"This journey…means everything to me," said Thorin at length. "To reclaim our homeland, our mountain, our lives…there is no cause more noble or right. I will not give up this quest for anything." He looked back at the company. "But for my kin…I made an oath to their mother, to my sister, that I would bring her sons home. Now I see I should never have made that promise. For I do not know if I can keep it."

Dwalin sighed heavily, examining his axe. "We all knew what we signed up for Thorin, Fíli and Kíli included. They know the risks. They will do anything to prove themselves, to you and to the rest of the company."

Thorin stared grimly into the flames. That was exactly what he feared his nephews would do.

"I'm sure there are other tales you can tell that are not about me and Fíli as dwarflings!" Kíli said heatedly as Balin finished his latest tale. The knife incident had left a puckered scar on Kíli's side, one of many that mapped his childhood and adolescence. However, it was the mental scars in the aftermath of the incident that had left the deepest mark on the whole of the Durín family.

Bofur grinned, adjusting his hat. "Well, if it's stories you want, I could tell some ones about Bombur and his-"

"NO!" the rest of the dwarves immediately protested, Oín throwing down his ear trumpet in horror to avoid hearing anything about Bombur's whatever, as several dwarves covered their ears. Dori hastily covered Ori's ears, much to the younger dwarf's consternation. Bifur was shouting something in inarticulate and waving his arms vigorously.

"No?" Bofur said innocently, twiddling the end of his hat. Bombur looked a little confused.

"No, it's quite alright," Balin managed. "I have many tales, many that don't involve Kíli and Fíli. How about the time when Gloín accidentally fell into a small wargs nest? Or when Dori gave the wrong herbs for a flesh wound to Nori and his tongue went blue for a week?"

"It was three days!" Nori argued hotly as the other dwarves laughed.

"Or I could tell some tales of Bag End, hmm? There are some cracking tales about the Shire," Bilbo piped up from his corner. The dwarves turned to the hobbit and he gulped. "Actually Bag End and the Shire aren't that interesting really," he decided, shaking his hands. "Please continue."

The dwarves then erupted into discussion about what stories should be told around the campfire at night. Several were ruled out immediately and Dwalin, who stomped back over, scowled threateningly at anyone who even dared raise an embarrassing story about his past, which was namely the cheeky Bofur.

"Alright, quiet dwarves, quiet, settle down there, settle down," Balin appealed for calm. "I have a story."

"And it's not about Kíli and me as dwarflings?" Fíli threatened, glaring at the white bearded dwarf.

Balin straightened his beard. "Upon my honour young Fíli son of Dís, it is not about you or your brother as dwarflings," he said with a little bow. Dwalin stirred at this. He knew his brother's tone when he…bent the truth slightly. He smothered a grin with a rough grunt. This should be good.

Slightly pacified, Fíli sank down next to his brother. The oldest brother was in two minds about the stories. On one hand, hearing tales of his childhood with his brother was just another way to cherish the special brotherly bond they had from times he could not remember very well having been a child. Conversely, Kíli was so embarrassed by his exploits as a child; he feared the rest of the dwarves would never take him seriously as a member of Thorin's company. So far Fíli had not come out too badly from the tales, mostly just mopping up after Kíli's messes. Fíli relaxed against the boulder he and Kíli had settled against when the camp was set up, nudging his brother slightly to relieve his irritated scowl. Fíli would not have had their childhood any other way. Except with Kíli injuring himself less often perhaps.

Balin harrumphed for a moment before beginning. "This story began many years ago, in the hallowed halls of the Blue Mount-"

"Are you sure this is not about us?" Kíli interrupted, eyes narrowing.

"Just hush and listen," Ori rebuked. "I want to hear the story!"

"Thank you Ori," Balin cleared his throat. "Anyways, as I was saying…"

A young dwarf walked through the mostly deserted tunnel of his home in the mountains of Ered Lindon. His hair, just now long enough to start being braided and decorated, hung in brown waves down his back. He had the hint of beard formation upon his cheeks and chin but to his consternation it was nothing like the magnificence of his older brother's or that of his friends. The dwarf was on his way back to the house he shared with his brother and mother. He had been musing about said lack of beard, when all of a sudden, he felt someone knock roughly into his shoulder, sending him staggering backwards slightly.

Glancing up angrily, Kíli saw that three dwarves were standing in front of him, blocking his way. There was plenty of room in the tunnel but they had purposely stopped him. His gaze flicked over them. They were bigger than he was, older too, by a good few years. He put them around Fíli's age, maybe even older. Their hair was braided, they had full beards, neatly trimmed and cared for, and their tunics stretched over bulging muscles.

"You should watch where you're going runt," one of the three growled at Kíli as they walked past, strutting as though his family owned the mountains. "Or you'll get stepped on like a bug."

Kíli bristled at the tone. All day he had been talked down to by older dwarves, who thought he was weak, or not strong enough, or too young to do something. Kíli was fed up of it. No one talked to him like that. "You should watch where you're going."

The three dwarves stopped in their tracks and slowly turned around. Kíli suddenly realised he probably (most definitely) should have kept his mouth shut. He knew these three dwarves. They were from a prominent family now residing in the Blue Mountains, having travelled from the Iron Hills a summer ago. Kíli had seen them training with the other dwarves in the barracks and they were a formidable trio. Kíli was by himself.

"What did you say?" the tallest of the three grunted, eyes narrowing under caterpillar eyebrows.

There was no going back now. Kíli squared his shoulders and tried to stand a little taller. Uncle Thorin's first lesson in training, never look intimidated by your opponent. Even, if they are a mountain troll. These three weren't trolls but they sure smelt as bad and were probably just as mean.

"I said, watch where you're going. It was your fault," Kíli said clearly as though they were dumb trolls.

The trio of heavyset dwarves exchanged looks. One of them cracked his knuckles threateningly.

"What are you going to do about it, pipsqueak?" Caterpillar eyebrows said. From Kíli's recollection his name was Nari, the oldest and biggest of the trio in front of him. It was rumoured Dwalin was training him in the barracks. Already Nari carried a hefty axe strapped to his back and two short swords at his waist.

"I've seen you about before," the second dwarf grunted, sizing up Kíli. His hair was coal black, beard tamed, braided and interweaved with silver rings. His name was Gotrek and he was almost Nari's size. "You're supposedly the nephew of Thorin Oakenshield."

"I am," Kíli growled back defiantly. His eyes narrowed. If they said one thing, one thing…

"I'd have thought on of the line of Durín would be able to at least manage a few inches of beard," the third smirked, stroking his own very fine (Kíli was loathe to admit) beard. Kíli couldn't quite remember his name…Troll Barf? No…Orc Spawn…Rock Runt…ah no it was Khîm. Kíli thought Troll Barf was infinitely better. He felt his fingers clench into fists as Khîm's comment struck a nerve. Without his brother to calm him down, Kíli was like a loose cannon these days. His temper was rising, bubbling just below the surface like an impatient volcano. His mother, Dís, often warned him that his temper would be his downfall and for her sake he tried to rein it in.

Nari smirked. "Look at him, he thinks he could take us? A foolish beardless dwarf even."

Kíli fists clenched tighter. "I thought Iron Mountain dwarves would not be such anvil dropping, perfumed oafs," he shot back.

"What did you call us?" Gotrek demanded, stepping forward menacingly.

"You heard," Kíli growled.

Gotrek snorted. "Thorin's line is nothing now. Reduced to toy makers and wanderers. The once proud line of Durín is crumbling into the dust!" he spat. "You and your pathetic willow-waisted brother-"

"Don't say anything about my brother!" Kíli warned Gotrek. "You elf-kissing tunnel worm!"

"Why you!" Gotrek howled in anger, lunging at Kíli, ham sized fist swinging towards Kíli's head. Kíli ducked and Gotrek stumbled forward slightly, having misjudged his timing. Gotrek swivelled around, searching for his target. "Your brother is nothing but a fatherless, clanless oaf and your uncle is a spineless oath-breaker!"

Kíli heard no more. Nobody insulted Fíli or Thorin in front of Kíli. Especially not Fíli. Nobody said anything about his brother. It didn't matter how big they were, or how many there were, Kíli was going to give them something to remember. With a roar of rage, Kíli barrelled into Gotrek, landing a solid punch to the other dwarf's chin. Gotrek's head snapped backwards and he yelled in anger. Kíli felt his knuckles throb with pain, Gotrek's chin was tough. Nari and Khîm needed no more goading but also waded in. Kíli flung punches left and right, giving as good as he got, when he felt a fist smash into the side of his head. He staggered sideways, vision going blurry for a moment. Another fist thumped into his stomach, winding him completely and he collapsed to one knee, gasping for breath. Nari caught the back of his collar, hauling him to his feet.

"Kíli?"

All four dwarves looked up instantly. Kíli could just about make out the form of another dwarf at the end of the tunnel. The voice was not too familiar and he squinted to see who it was. A small dwarf was standing there, with a round, pudding bowl haircut, wringing his little mittened hands. The intruder stood, a little confused, head tilted to the side as he surveyed the scene. His eyes widened as he took in Kíli's state and the three bigger dwarves surrounding him.

"Ori? Kíli croaked.

Ori looked petrified as he saw Kíli surrounded by Nari, Gotrek and Khîm. His eyes flicked o*ver the big dwarves before landing on Kíli stuck in the middle. Already Kíli looked a mess, his right eye was rapidly swelling shut, he had a bruise on his lower jaw and his lip was bleeding. Nari dropped Kíli who slumped to one knee, grabbing his ribs which ached from where Gotrek had rammed his knee a few moments earlier. "Who do we have here?" he asked. Ori was easy sport for such bullies as him, Gotrek and Khîm.

Ori brought out a small slingshot though his hands were shaking so badly he could barely hold it. Still he held his ground, eyes flicking from Nari to Gotrek to Khîm. Kíli shook his head, Ori would be pulverised worse than he would be. A beating Kíli could take would severely hurt young Ori. He would not let them hurt Ori. Nari advanced on Ori, a cruel gleam in his eyes.

"Ori, run!" Kíli managed to yell as Nari advanced on the little dwarf. "Get out of here!" With that shout, Kíli surged to his feet and swung out another fist, catching Gotrek on the nose. Gotrek bellowed in pain as blood spurted from his broken nose, Kíli's blow landed well. Khîm whirled around in confusion, beefy hand catching the side of Kíli's head and sending him flying to the floor.

As Nari hesitated, Ori let out a squeak and dashed down the next tunnel. By the time Nari decided to go after him, Ori was long gone; the slap of his boots on the tunnel floor a distant echo. Nari growled in anger, gritting his teeth at his lost prey. He rounded on Kíli who was gasping on the floor. Kíli raised his head a fraction, defiantly spitting out a glob of blood from where Khîm's fist had caught him.

"You'll pay for that," Nari grunted. He nodded to his companions who heaved Kíli off the floor, holding him up under his arms. Kíli struggled against their hold, spitting curses and kicking wildly. Nari sneered at his useless efforts. With blistering force, he slammed his fist into Kíli's midsection. Kíli's breath left him in a rush as he grunted in pain, despite trying to bite his lip to dampen the cry. He would not give them the satisfaction.

"The Duríns' need to be brought down. Their house is nothing anymore," Nari snarled, bringing back his arm to hit Kíli again. "We are the new way. The Iron Hills is where the strong dwarves are from. Thorin's line is broken." His punch threw Kíli to the floor again as Gotrek let him go. He hit the side of the tunnel with a thud, head snapping backwards as it connected with the tunnel wall.

Ears ringing, ribs aching and face stinging, Kíli snarled at his opponents, slowly wiping away the blood from his face with his fist, the iron taste of blood filling his mouth from the cuts to his cheek and lip. This was getting out of hand. In front of him was Gotrek and Nari and behind was Khîm preventing his escape. He would have one chance. Khîm was the weaker link. Gathering his strength and determination, Kíli let out a battle cry Dwalin would have been proud of and flung himself at Khîm. Following his uncle's and Dwalin's teachings for bigger enemies, Kíli went low, kicking out at his opponent's legs.

Khîm staggered in surprise, not expecting Kíli's sudden attack and went down with a thud. Kíli had little time to relish his victory as he began to move past KhÍm, a chain impacted the back of his legs, wrapping tightly around them, binding them together mid-step and causing him to crash into the ground. Nari was grinning and Gotrek congratulated him on his excellent throw.

"KÍLI!"

At Kíli's command, Ori fled the scene, flying down the tunnel as fast as his small legs could carry him. The image of Kíli, his new friend, bloodied and hurt on the floor of the tunnel was burned into his mind. As he scurried away an idea suddenly came to his mind. He turned around and ran in the opposite direction. The tunnels were getting crowded as he moved towards the heart of the dwarven stronghold in the Blue Mountains and he frantically pushed dwarves aside as squirmed through the crowds.

"Where is Fíli son of Dis? Have you seen him?" Ori demanded of a passing dwarf. The dwarf grunted and shook his head, moving on past Ori. He asked several more dwarves but all shook their heads, leaving him in their wake. Then, up ahead, Ori caught sight of a distinctive blonde head. Elated, he did his best to shoulder through the crowd, all the time calling out to the dwarf.

Fíli looked around as he heard a voice call his name. It wasn't one he recognised well. Glancing to his left, he saw a small dwarf struggling through the crowds, pudding bowl haircut awry, waving frantically in his direction. Using his broader body, Fíli pushed through the crowds and reached the shorter dwarf.

"What is it?" he asked as the shorter dwarf panted and got his breath back.

"Your…your…" the dwarf panted, hands on his knees as he wheezed.

Fíli studied the dwarf in front of him. He looked a little familiar. That haircut was difficult to forget. Ah, Ori, who's family was distant relation to his uncle, Thorin. The lad had just become friends with Kíli as they were of a similar age. Fíli wondered what Ori could want with him.

"Get your breath back," Fíli ordered kindly. "Then tell me what you want."

"It's…it's…your…your brother," Ori gasped out.

Fíli immediately stiffened. From Ori's state it didn't seem like good news. "What about him?" he demanded, brows narrowing. "Speak up!"

"You've got to help. He's…in trouble. Three dwarves…have him…in a tunnel near training hall…fighting," Ori managed. "He's hurt…"

Fíli felt his heart drop in his chest. Before Ori had even finished speaking, he clapped his thanks on the shorter dwarf's shoulder (making Ori wince) and was pushing through the crowds, blonde hair breezing around his shoulders like a lion's mane. His brother was in trouble. Fíli did not even have to think about it. Leaving the crowded halls behind him, he ran towards the training halls, glancing down every tunnel he passed, shouldering past other dwarfs, searching for his younger brother.

Hang on Kíli…

How do I always manage to end things on a cliffhanger? I think it must be a talent, but not a talent that my readers enjoy! Sumimasen! すみません (Sorry) I also have to practice my Japanese whenever possible...

Hope you enjoyed the chapter and all the feels between our favourite dwarf brothers (ok, Balin and Dwalin are close behind in second place) and between the dwarflings and their brooding uncle. Let me know what you thought in a review :)

Be back soon!

AldabaranFox