Lullaby: Song of Exile and Victory, a hobbit fanfic

Lullaby: The Song of Exile and Victory

Thorin folded up one of the maps and sighed, rubbing his forehead. How much longer could he live like this? Not long ago he stood in princely pride beside the grandeur of his father as the Elvenking himself paid homage to his grandfather. Thorin winced at the memory of both. The sickness, the greed, the strange lust that had overtaken Thrain grieved him to consider. He prayed daily to his ancestors that it would not claim him. And as for the other, that pointed-eared, cuckolding coward on that flea-ridden Caribou; he would get what he deserved. No aid, not even food or shelter or sympathy came from that wood-rotted rotter. The more Thorin thought about Thranduil's betrayal, the more he began to shake and he hated that; it was a sign that he was losing his temper and he lost quite enough already.

"Uncle?" an innocent voice said, breaking the dark thoughts seething in the dwarf-prince's mind. He turned and smiled brightly at the fair-haired nephew that he was now raising as his own. Not long before Erebor had been attacked by Smaug, Dis, Thorin's sister had given died while birthing a healthy and strong second son, Kili. This was his older brother, Fili, who took more after his father than his mother. Their father had been slain in the resistance against the dragon almost instantly when he foolishly stood with shield raised, ready to deflect the might of dragon fire. Fili rubbed his eyes, his tousled blonde locks a testament to a common and often very difficult ailment for Thorin to address with the two boys . . . "I can't sleep again."

Thorin sighed and knelt, looking into Fili's eyes. "Did a nightmare wake you?" he asked tenderly. Fili shook his head and folded his hands behind his back, twisting one foot at the ankle back and forth anxiously. Thorin put a hand under the boy's chin and looked more deeply into his eyes. "Were you awakened at all?"

"Why do you never smile unless you're with Kili and sometimes with me?" Fili asked in confusion.

Thorin's heart ached. "I smile equally for the two of you," he corrected. Fili looked down and nodded, but then repeated the 'why' of the question. Thorin placed both hands on his nephew's shoulders and smiled. "Because when I am with my kindred, when I am with my blood, I am closer to home than anywhere else in The Blue Mountains."

"You're unhappy," Fili observed keenly. Thorin stared at him in disbelief as the younger sighed and shrugged. He then looked up at his uncle, puzzled. "Where is your home?" Fili asked, cocking his head to one side. Thorin looked at him in surprise. "You keep talking about it, even with uncle Balin when you think we're not listening. But I am listening, Uncle, and I know that you won't be happy until you go home, so where is it?"

"It is not simply my home, Fili," Thorin said proudly. He heard a soft pat-pat-pat and watched as the younger, darker-haired, and sleepy eyed brother of Fili entered the room. He rubbed his eyes, yawned, and then grasped hold of one ear timidly (the Dwarfish equivalent to thumb-sucking for human children). Thorin sighed heavily and stood, walking over to Kili and taking him into his arms. To his relief, Kili had only followed out of brotherly need and laid his head against his shoulder, placing the fingers of the hand that had held his ear gently in his mouth as he half closed his eyes. Fili stood and watched almost sadly as his uncle turned back to him. "You have heard me speak of Erebor and our kingdom since before you could walk." He led the way to the crude drawing room. A large, round chair, big enough for a human but concave and filled with an enormous downy pillow covered in softest fur sat at the corner. Thorin moved towards it and gently pulled back the fur, placing Kili on the bedding then gesturing towards Fili. The younger frowned and folded his arms. "Come on now, Fili, you're too young to be up so late, but you're too old to not know when to sleep."

Fili groaned, but appreciated the not-so-hidden compliment in his uncle's command. He crawled into the nest-like chair (meant to act as a round-lounge for napping) and situated himself as Kili immediately grabbed for him and found a comfortable position clinging to his older brother. Fili didn't mind one whit and yawned as Thorin pulled the fur over them. He tucked the edges around them and stroked both their faces affectionately before leaning forward and kissing both on the brow. Fili simply smiled sleepily while Kili, feeling a new sense of playfulness each time he was around the braided beard that fascinated him, took hold of one dark lock of his uncle's beard and grinned at him. Thorin chuckled and softly curled his fingers around the hand of the younger, urging him to let go.

"Here now; it's time for both of you to go off to sleep," Thorin commanded.

"We need a story first!" Kili protested, clearly not wanting to let go until one was promised.

"You've already had your story for tonight the first time you were put to bed," Thorin replied firmly, trying as gently as possible to pull the fingers of young Kili free of his delicate facial hair. "I've warned you what will happen if you're told too many stories at night."

"My head will crack open and I'll forever have to wear a jaw-shroud to eat and play," Kili responded sadly. Thorin grinned at the boy's remembrance. It was a little lie, a strange lie, but one that did seem to get the two to be satisfied with one story a night. Kili refused to relinquish his grip, reaching up with his other hand and now taking his uncle's tunic as well. Thorin frowned and leaned closer, asking the boy what was troubling him. "You're not happy," Kili replied, nearly coming to tears as he said it. Thorin looked in concern at the child and then over at Fili.

"It makes us unhappy, too," he explained. Thorin's heart ached all the more. These two were more than nephews or sons to him, they were very much kindred spirits in so many ways. He breathed deeply and shook his head. "We can't sleep if you're too unhappy to sleep."

"Then that calls for but one thing," Thorin said. He glanced over at Kili who slowly let go of his uncle's tunic. "And if you'll let go for a moment, I'll make it right for us all." Kili nodded slowly and then carefully let go of the braid, stroking it softly as he did so. Thorin smirked and pulled a large seat over to the nest-lounge and then pulled out from behind one of the portraits an object that filled the two with joy and dreamy wonder. Thorin sat down, rolled up his long, blue sleeves, and placed his fingers gently on the harp. "Here now; this will bring us happiness, all of us. And afterwards we will sleep." The two nodded in unison, cuddling up and readying for the beautiful music that always flowed from the deft fingers of their uncle plucking gently at the harp's chords. He began with a simple tune and then, smiling and thinking of home, began to sing a song he himself had written just for the purpose of lulling the infant Kili to sleep. It had become so much more since then, but it still bore the same soporific effect on the two. He watched them relax and their breathing slow as he sang:

(To the tune of 'The Song of Exile' from 'King Arthur')

"Land of jade, and land of emerald,

Land that gave us wealth and wonder,

Land that fell 'neath fire and ferment;

We will reclaim our 'Lonely Mountain'!

We will go home!

We will go home, and reclaim the Mountain!

Lords of Kazhad, Line of Durin,

Arkenstone, your jewel and birthright;

Heed our singing, Heed our longing,

Bring us strength, to take back the Mountain!

We will go home!

We will go home, and reclaim the Mountain!

Bring us back home!

Bring us back home, to reclaim the Mountain!

Land of gold and land of silver,

Land that flows with joy and sorrow.

We shall reap its love and laughter,

When we reclaim our 'Lonely Mountain'!

We will go home!

We will go home, and reclaim the Mountain!

Bring us back home!

Bring us back home, to reclaim the Mountain!

Men shall return, their kindness rewarded,

The Elvcnking paid back betrayal!

Sun and Moon will shine triumph,

We shall be 'Kings Under the Mountain'!

We will go home!

We will go home, and reclaim the Mountain!

Bring us back home!

Bring us back home, to reclaim the Mountain!

When fair Erebor is before us,

We have gone home, to our lost Mountain

We'll slay the beast, that drove us henceward,

We will take back our long lost Mountain

We will go home!

We will go home, and reclaim the Mountain!

Bring us back home!

Bring us back home, to reclaim the Mountain!

When long journeys lie behind us,

We shall have hearth, and gold, and Mountain!

We will go home!

We will go home, and reclaim the Mountain!

Bring us back home!

Bring us back home, to reclaim the Mountain!"

Thorin looked back at the enormous nest-lounge and the sight of his two sleeping nephews. No, he realized, they were his sons now. The loved him, they were soothed by him, and they needed him, His troubles weighed upon them and his burdens were theirs. He removed his outer clothing, folding it neatly on the seat as he stood. He climbed into the nest-lounge, still clad in warm undergarb and slipping between the two easily, pulling the soft and welcoming fur around them until they snugly fit together like the creature that had sacrificed its flesh for their comfort. They shifted but did not wake, the presence of their sturdy guardian keeping them in a safe, sound rest. Thorin sighed and allowed the two to take their places against him that they had taken with one another, limbs curled around midsections and heads laid comfortably on his broad chest. He closed his eyes, the music and its truth still echoing in his ears. He knew his nephews had heard it several times and the same was true for them. Yes, this was their purpose and until their land was reclaimed this small unit, these three were themselves a home. But Thorin longed to show the two what they had never fully seen. Someday, he thought as sleep began to take him. We will go home, and reclaim the mountain.