Title: Coming Home

Summary: Kíli teaches Thorin that children may outgrow your lap but they will never outgrow loving you.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hobbit. Never will (except on DVD)

A/N: NO FLAMES! Not accepted.

It wasn't like the way it was when they were kids. Fíli and Kíli would have fallen asleep in Uncle's lap every other night when they were children but this was different. Uncle was more stoic and more stubborn and angry than normal. Though to be true Kíli could only remember his Uncle smiling once.

Kíli sat between his brother's knees watching Thorin as Dwalin discusses something with him. Thorin never smiled now. Fíli's fingers carded through Kíli's hair catching now and then on tangles that seemed to reform after his brother untangled it.

"You should let me braid it." Fíli said softly.

Kíli chuckled, "You'd pull it out, Brother."

"Do you not trust me, Kee?" Fíli replied with a smile that Kíli couldn't see but he heard it.

"Never." Kíli replied with the same smile on his face, he tilted his head to look at Fíli who simply grinned and winked at his younger brother. Kíli thought back as his gaze returned to his Uncle of all the times Thorin had yelled his name during the quest. There were several times he'd had his name yelled. Kíli counted it several times. Both hands didn't cover it. He shifted slightly his back stiff from their time in Thranduil's cells. They'd escaped and made it to Beorn's and now after recovering for a while there they had then moved on. They sat around the fire that burned bright in the darkness of night – making all of them warm and lit their skin with an eerie orange glow.

Late the next day rain was brought upon them. Groaning they made their way as fast as they could towards the mountains, quickly finding a cave. Dwalin and Thorin made sure it was safe and big enough for them all. The dwarves and Hobbit all clamoured inside, a fire was quickly started and they all crowded round it some shedding their outers in favour of drying them off. Luckily some coats had not been soaked through as they were leather but ones like, Ori, Bilbo and unfortunately, Kíli did not have the leather luxury that had been gifted to Dwalin, Fíli and Thorin. Once everyone settled down to sleep for the night – Thorin kept first watch – Kíli felt the cold start to seep into his skin; it was as though he was filled with ice. He shivered trying to shift closer to Fíli but then seemed to remember his brother had set up his bedroll on the other side of the fire by mistake. Fíli had ended up sleeping next to Bilbo instead of his brother.

As Kíli tried to curl in on himself he felt something heavy and warm placed over him. Turning to thank whoever was responsible he found his Uncle standing over him, now devoid of his coat. Kíli frowned worried his uncle would not be warm enough but Thorin just gave the younger dwarf a cool smile and returned to the fire to continue his watch. Kíli snuggled into the warmth of his Uncle's coat and smiling softly. That was something that hadn't changed.

Kíli remembers being sick when he was younger and when he broke into a coughing fit, alerting his uncle and Fíli to his presence on the training field when he shouldn't have been, his Uncle had relented to the puppy-eyes of his youngest nephew and wrapped him in his jacket telling him to stay warm. Kíli fell into dreams of when times were simpler. When he didn't have to worry about propriety or duty. When he was just Little Kíli. His Uncle's little archer.

It happened a little while after. Kíli was hurt. He wasn't yelled at as such, but he got a scolding. He sat by himself after, against a tree around the edge of camp. He watched the others as they ate – Bilbo brought him a bowl of stew – and then as they settled down for the night. Thorin again took first watch.

"Kíli? Come here." Thorin said as he took a seat by the fire, the younger got up and reluctantly took a seat beside his Uncle. Thorin was silent for a long time, but at least by having Kíli beside him, he knew the young dwarf was warming, even in the dying embers of the fire.

"How is your arm?" Thorin asked; referring to Kíli's wound.

"It is fine. Óin says it should heal well, it was not deep, nor infected. I'll live." Kíli said.

"Good. I would hate to lose our Archer." Thorin said softly.

"Thorin…Uncle-" Thorin cut the young dwarf off seamlessly.

"I'm your King first Kíli." He growled lowly.

"No. You're my Uncle first. When you're crowned I'll refer to you as 'your majesty' but in private you'll always be 'Uncle'." Kíli said, "doesn't matter what you, or Balin or what Dwalin says – you're just Uncle Thorin to me and Fíli. It won't matter how old we are."

"What do you mean?" Thorin asked as Kíli shifted slightly closer to him for more warmth.

"Fíli and I may have out grown falling asleep on you knee Uncle, but we haven't outgrown anything else. We still relish the smile that you give us when you're proud of us. The nod you give when we say the right thing. The look you give Fíli after he's done something particularly Prince-like is something I've always wanted to see directed at me." Kíli said; his tone was almost like he pleading with Thorin to show him at least one ounce of gratitude. Just once.

"Kíli…I have tried to be a father to you and Fíli…" Thorin began.

"Fíli and I don't want another father; you just want our Uncle back. The one who would sit with us in front of the fire and tell us tales of Erebor. Of the great Dragon. Of all the Orcs he'd killed, of all the goblins he'd slain. We loved the tales of Thorin Oakenshield. And we still do, although we have outgrown your lap we'll never stop loving you Uncle." Kíli said, Thorin smiled softly and wrapped an arm around his nephew, when Fíli woke for his watch several hours later, he found Kíli fast asleep next to Thorin – still wide awake – but his fingers carded gently through Kíli's hair where his head rested on his uncle's knee.

"Uncle? It's my turn for watch." Fíli said. Thorin gently manoeuvred Kíli so the elder brother could take his place, but Fíli shook his head.

"I don't think he'd going to let go anytime soon." Thorin looked down to his tunic where Fíli indicated and Kíli had indeed gripped his tunic so tightly Thorin wasn't getting away. He smiled and took the younger dwarf to his bedroll where Thorin removed his jacket and draped it over his nephew once more as Kíli's hold on Thorin's tunic loosened and the older gave Kíli's forehead a kiss before going to his own bedroll.

Fíli turned to glance at his brother and when he got a thumbs up from him he smiled. Thorin had finally understood that all the boys wanted was their Uncle back. Their story-telling, goblin-slaying Uncle Thorin.

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