Thank you everyone for your kind reviews! Here's part 2 of the two-shot, prepare for Durin feels galore ;) Please read the A/N.

2. Safe shores

Night was falling quickly. Kíli sat with his back against the huge tree with Fíli by his side. None of them spoke, and for once he was grateful for the silence. He didn't feel like talking, and Fíli didn't expect him to. There was an uneasy feeling in his stomach which he knew wasn't only because of his hunger. Thistle had been carrying most of their provisions, but that wasn't why the thought of his pony made him choke and bite his lip.

He had grown fond of the pony, and he replayed the events in his head, over and over, to find out what he should have done differently. He could have gotten to her sooner, he could have tied the reins more tightly in the first place, he could have –

"Don't."

His head shot up and he found Fíli eyeing him worriedly. "Don't, what?"

"Don't blame yourself. There's nothing you could have done."

Fíli squeezed his shoulders. Kíli noticed that the rest of the group was further away than usual, and he steeled himself for the conversation that was about to come. Fíli would be understanding as always, he would find comforting words and tell him again that it wasn't his fault. It wasn't just that, though. He was sad about Thistle, sure, but that was only part of why he couldn't get rid of that ache in his stomach.

When he closed his eyes, he didn't see the pony. He saw the deathly white face of his brother.

"Get some sleep, brother," Fíli murmured. "Tomorrow will be a long day."

Kíli only nodded. He knew that. But he didn't want to close his eyes yet. The sun was gone, but the sky was not yet black. There were a million different colours to it, and some stars were already shining palely between the clouds.

He rubbed his hands over his face to rid his mind off the haunting images. It reminded him of the teasing about his beard. He couldn't believe that it had happened just hours ago. He sighed quietly.

"Can't sleep?"

He should have known that Fíli wasn't asleep yet. He simply shook his head.

"Kee…"

It seemed as if the single words, his nickname, triggered whatever he'd tried to keep shut away. Fíli had always been the one to see through his façade and break any walls he would build to protect himself. His hands started to shake, so he crossed his arms before his chest. It wasn't enough to fool his brother, though, as he realised when suddenly a hand was on his shoulder. He flinched and for a short moment wanted to pull away. He even knew that Fíli wouldn't be offended. But he also understood that he wasn't the only one in need of comfort. And Fíli always found comfort in being there for others.

"I thought you were dead," Kíli suddenly found himself whispering. "For a moment, I thought you were dead, and I couldn't –"

He choked and fought down the bile rising in his throat.

"If you had died for me… because I was so stupid, so reckless… how was I supposed to live with that?"

"Well, I didn't die," Fíli replied calmly. "And if I had done nothing and watched you getting killed, then tell me brother, how do you think I would have lived with that?"

He didn't know what to say in return. He had always known that Fíli would give his life to protect him without so much as a blink. He had proven that more than once. It also worked the other way round. It was something Kíli couldn't logically explain. That bond between him and his brother was beyond the understanding of outsiders. He had the vague feeling that others might have an idea of it, if they had siblings themselves, but he didn't really believe that anyone else in the world was as close to a brother or sister as he was to Fíli. Two gems of the same rock, his mother had once jokingly described it. Kíli hadn't laughed then.

How was I supposed to live with that?

He could barely see now. The moon was shining and the shapes around him were a blur of black and grey, not completely molten with the darkness but not sharply outlined, either. The leaves rustled, and then Fíli was squatting before him. He couldn't see his face clearly, but he felt his hands on his shoulders.

"We are brothers, Kíli. With nothing between. We can talk all we want and make empty promises, but we both know that when it comes to making a choice, we will always lay our lives down for each other. So do not ask me ever again to not do anything in my power to keep you safe. In return, I will ask none of that of you."

Kíli took a deep breath and tried to keep his lips from trembling. He was a grown-up dwarf, he would act like one. Nothing bad had happened.

But he knew the truth. Though every word Fíli had said was true, there was another truth that the older one hadn't voiced.

"We are brothers, with nothing between," Kíli whispered and only now he curled his fingers around Fíli's forearms. The shivering had stopped; his body was calm, steadied by his brother's presence. "Nothing between, and if one of us falls, the other will soon follow."

There were few things he was as sure of as this.

Fíli didn't speak. There was no need for an answer, because they both knew that it was the simple truth. And so Kíli smiled for the first time in hours when Fíli silently sat down next to him, put one arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. Kíli rested his cheek on the leather coat and closed his eyes. He heard Fíli humming quietly. He recognised the melody. It was the song their mother had often sung to them when they had been children. Sometimes Thorin had joined in, too. And as Kíli now allowed sleep to claim him, he thought he could even hear their voices in his head.

The world was young, the mountains green, no stain yet on the Moon was seen...

-.-.-.-.-

Thorin knew he ought to sleep. Dwalin had volunteered for first watch, the air was filled with the noise of snoring and bodies shifting in their sleep, and the next day would be a tough one. But the previous events were still vivid in his mind and kept him from finding rest.

The dwarven leader rose to his feet. Immediately Dwalin turned his head, one hand on his axe. It brought a small smile to Thorin's face. Through all his worries and insecurities, his friend had been the one constant he could always rely on. He approached him, careful to tread quietly to not wake up any of the others. It was against the odds, of course, for most of the dwarves slept soundly and wouldn't wake if Durin himself appeared before them.

He sat down next to Dwalin, who had lit a small lantern to light the nearest surroundings, and stretched his tired limbs. Dwalin didn't ask questions, but wordlessly passed a flask to him. Gratefully Thorin took a sip from it. It was strong, and he felt himself relaxing as the liquid warmed his blood. He handed it back with a thankful nod.

For a while they just sat in silence. Dwalin had never been the one to push him into a talk. Instead he would wait for Thorin to speak up when he felt like it.

"I was too harsh with Fíli, wasn't I?" Thorin asked eventually. The realisation had come quickly, but he hadn't said it aloud so far. Now he didn't need to look left to know that Dwalin nodded. "I was wrong, I see that now. But maybe he'll learn from it."

"What do you think he'll learn?" Dwalin answered hesitantly. "He grew up following your orders and knowing that you expect him to obey your rules." He turned his head to face Thorin. "But don't think for one moment that this will ever keep him from doing anything he can to keep Kíli safe. You know he won't. It's not what big brothers do. If it had been Frerin in that river – what would you have done?"

The words hit the exiled king like a hammer to a stone. The subject of Thorin's little brother was one not even Dwalin often breached. Many decades had passed ever since that fateful day when the battlefield had been stained with Frerin's blood, but it still hurt to think of him. It wasn't the overwhelming agony of the first months anymore, more like a dull throbbing in tune with his heart that reminded him again and again that Frerin might still be alive if he had been a better brother.

He had tried, but he had failed.

"Fíli needs to learn that he won't always be able to protect him," he said. "No matter how hard he tries, there will come a day when it won't be in his power anymore."

"Aye. But until that day he will gladly lay his life on the line for Kíli, and Kíli for him. There's nothing wrong with that, Thorin. It's in their blood, in our blood. Mahal made us to care for our kin more than any man or elf ever would, it's who we are, and we should never fight who we are."

He took a sip from his flask and gazed in the direction where Thorin assumed Balin was sleeping.

"Wise words, my friend," Thorin mumbled as his eyes sought for his nephews. He knew they had talked earlier, until they had fallen asleep side by side with Kíli's head resting on Fíli's shoulder. Frerin had used to snuggle up like that.

"I promised my sister that I would keep them safe, and Mahal knows I will try, but what if…"

The unspoken question hung in their air for a moment. It was a thought he wanted to banish from his mind, but that still came forth to haunt him at the most unexpected of times. He had fought in battle, he had faced orcs and the dragon's flames, he had stood tall no matter what life had thrown at him. But the sheer thought of losing one of his sister's sons was more frightening than any dragon could ever be.

Dwalin's silence confirmed that his friend understood him as always. The seasoned warrior knew, better than most, that there was no use in saying that everything would be fine. They had learned, the hard way, that sometimes everything was not alright.

Thorin sighed. Sunset was still a few hours away.

"Get some sleep," he said and patted Dwalin on the back.

The tattooed dwarf narrowed his eyes.

"Wake Dori when you get tired," he ordered, and Thorin nodded dutifully. He watched Dwalin as he walked towards one of the larger rocks and sat down propped up against the stony surface. Thorin gazed at the small, dancing flame of the lantern. Nothing would happen that night, he was sure of that. His intuition was usually right.

He picked the lantern up, got to his feet and slowly made his way to the large tree beneath which his nephews were sleeping soundly. Kíli was still leaning against his brother, and his body was covered with a blanket that Thorin recognised as Fíli's. He wondered where Kíli's own was, before he remembered that it had most probably been lost together with his pony.

Quietly he shrugged out of his heavy fur coat. It was too warm anyway, he decided. He knelt down and carefully covered Fíli with it. The blonde blinked sluggishly, and his first look was to the side. He nodded to himself as he found Kíli still fast asleep. Only then his gaze met Thorin's.

"Uncle?" he mumbled, still half asleep himself, and then his eyes widened. "Is something the matter?"

Thorin shook his head.

"I didn't mean to wake you. Fíli, I want to –"

"I'm sorry, uncle," Fíli interrupted him. "I know I was wrong to disobey you. But Kíli… I couldn't do nothing. I'm sorry," he repeated.

"It is I who has to apologise," Thorin replied. "All your life I have talked to you of the virtues that matter. Loyalty, honour, a willing heart. You showed all of this today, not only when you jumped into that river, but also just now when you apologised. It takes courage and strength to admit mistakes."

"Uncle –"

"But you made no mistake today, my lad. You followed your heart, and that's what you should always do. Never change for anyone, and certainly not for me."

With these words he put his hands onto his nephew's shoulders and bent forward until their foreheads touched.

"I'm proud of you, Fíli. And I will make sure that you and your brother return to my sister safe and sound."

He wanted to say, "I promise", but suddenly found that he couldn't. His own words echoed in his head, his promise to his sister, and now he realised that that promise had never been his to give.

As he drew back, he saw Fíli watching him with both worry and a hint of pride. Beside him, Kíli moved in his sleep, causing the blanket to drop off his shoulder. Without missing a beat Fíli adjusted it, and only then he seemed to become aware of the coat covering him. He looked at Thorin in surprise.

"Thanks," he mouthed.

The older dwarf smiled.

"Sleep, Fíli. Get some rest."

He watched as Fíli pulled the cloak tighter around himself. Soon, the dwarf's eyes dropped close again.

Thorin sat down on a nearby log and listened to the soft noises of the night. The flame inside the lantern was still flickering brightly. It was only the beginning of their journey, and Mahal knew what still waited for them in the wilderness on their way over the Misty Mountains. But he could already sense the call of his home, and like a forge that was lit with just a small flame, that sensation was enough to kindle the fire in his heart.

Soon, very soon, he would bring his people home. That one promise he would keep.

Wherever you're going I'm going your way
Two drifters off to see the world

(Frank Sinatra, "Moon River")

A/N 1: "We are brothers, with nothing between. If one of us falls, the other will soon be following." is a quote I found on the tumlr page of i-just-have-feels, but I just noticed that the site isn't available anymore. Anyway, if you have Pinterest, just look for pin number pin/300967187573263041/.

A/N 2: The song that Fíli hums is the Song of Durin!

A/N 3: I hope you enjoyed this mini-fic and that Thorin isn't ooc, I never feel quite comfortable writing him because I'm never sure if I get him right.