Set just before The Hobbit, this will be a multi-chapter fic concerning how Fili & Kili joined the company. I have another story in the works as requested by I love filikili and am very happy to take requests from anyone else interested. Hope you enjoy.

Far from Home

He ground his teeth together, swinging the rock-hewn hammer down onto the still molten blade with uncharacteristic savageness, furiously trying to ignore both the throbbing, burning pain in his left shoulder and the mocking jeers of the older dwarves that worked the forge around him.

Plunging the rapidly cooling blade into a barrel of water beside the anvil, he flung aside the hammer in frustration, spinning on his heel and rapidly retreating from the forge to the catcalls and taunts of his fellow smiths.

Bowled along by his anger, he found himself pacing the long familiar halls of his place of birth. Eriador, the Blue Mountain stronghold of the dwarves, had been the sanctuary of his people for nearly a hundred years since the dragon Smaug had desecrated their homeland.

The dwarves native to that land – a little taller in stature than those of Erebor, with stout shoulders and hair black as pitch – had welcomed them grudgingly; taking pity on their unfortunate brethren, but allowing neither sympathy nor charity to pass to their smaller cousins.

Neither compassionate nor hospitable towards outsiders, the dwarves of Eriador lived relatively solitary lives in an exclusive society that resented outside influence, choosing instead to value archaic tradition over empathy.

In the hundred or so years that had passed, little had changed for the erstwhile refugees of the lonely mountain, whose children born under the Blue Mountains were similarly rejected.

Fili and his younger brother Kili were two of such dwarves; both born to dwarves made homeless by the sacking of Erebor in the stronghold of Eriador.

Fili in particular, whose golden brown hair singled him out for ridicule amongst his darker haired fellows, was subjected continuously to the bitterness and mockery of the dwarves of Eriador – a fact that would have bothered him little had the taunting not affected his kin and younger brother.

His mother, in the ground barely a decade, Aüle rest her, had despaired, having implored their Uncle to leave their refuge, leave the dwarves with hearts made of bone and lead their people to a better life elsewhere. But their Uncle's heart lay far to the east, his mind filled with memories of the splendour of home, his dreams filled with the glory of retaking the lonely mountain, his thoughts occupied only with the dragon and its cavern.

He paused, his feet having carried him unconsciously to his destination, to tap gently on the oaken door, not waiting for a reply as he shunted the heavy door aside with his good shoulder.

"You should be resting."

Kili looked up briefly from his lap, casually fletching arrows with his legs crossed, back propped against the rocky wall.

"I believe the same assessment was made for you, brother, though I am the one sitting calmly and you're the one working at the forge."

"My wounds were not so serious." Fili groused, suitably chastised.

Kili smirked, discarding a handful of owl feathers. "And yet I was not the one who nearly died from infection only two weeks ago. I'm surprised you can even move your arm."

Swiping his brother lightly, Fili threw himself down beside him, trying to suppress a wince as the movement jarred his bad shoulder. He brushed away the concerned glance thrown in his direction, chagrined by his inability to refute his brother's statement.

He rested his head against the cool stone, grumbling internally at the speed his shoulder was healing. Being useless was not a feeling he was accustomed to.

Gingerly, he probed the still healing wound with idle fingers, feeling it twinge and throb with the pressure. He wondered how long it would take to have full function of his shoulder again. Maybe it would never be the same. He shuddered with disgust.

Cold hands smacked his fingers away from the injury and he looked up to his brother's disapproving expression as he loomed over him.

"Leave it. It'll take longer to heal if you mess with it."

"Thank you doctor. And there was I thinking I was the older one of us. Clearly I was mistaken." He closed his eyes, tugging his arms around himself to retain heat as the bitingly cold rock leeched the warmth from his body.

There was a heavy sigh from Kili and he felt his brother haul himself to his feet, heard him patter quietly across the room. Then a thick warmth draped over him and he cracked his eyes open wearily to see Kili covering him with a heavy woollen blanket, most likely that which up until now had covered his bed.

He tried to protest, but the sudden warmth had rendered him mute, not to mention incredibly comfortable. He rested his head on his knees drowsily as Kili fussed with the edges of the blanket.

"I haven't been tucked in for more than a decade." He slurred tiredly. "And never by you."

The younger dwarf rolled his eyes, settling down stiffly next to his exhausted brother.

"Just go to sleep, Fili." He resumed fletching, tugging a small measure of the blanket over his outstretched legs to ward off the cold.

As the pile of arrows grew ever larger, a heavy weight began to rest against his shoulder as Fili gradually descended into sleep.

An hour later, there was a short, sharp knock on the door.

Thanks for reading. I'm happy to take fic requests from anyone interested. Please Review!