Khiluz

(Family)

As was to be expected, I still don't own anything (sadly).

Written for Nári.

Family quarrels are bitter things. They don't go by any rules. They're not like aches or wounds; they're more like splits in the skin that won't heal because there's not enough material.

~ F. Scott Fitzgerald

~ooo~

The young dwarf prince stood with his forehead leaned against the icy window and watched the first feeble rays of sunlight fight their hopeless fight against the seemingly ever-present thick wafts of mist that sluggishly crept along the canals and streets of Laketown. A few ice flowers had formed on the lower pane and window sill. Winter had finally caught up with them. Very soon the first snow would fall and would seal the paths to the Lonely Mountain, would trap them here in this god-forsaken, fish-infested hellhole, cut off from their family and friends. He snorted. Family. What did that even mean? Certainly not a lot to their uncle. Not of late, anyways.

A new wave of anger and confusion washed over him and it took considerable strength to not just ram his bare fist into the fragile glass in front of him. He would probably end up with half of the shards stuck in his hand and arm, but he knew he'd welcome the sensation.

Instead, he turned around with a sigh and walked toward the small cot their involuntary host had set up for his brother.

Kíli was deathly pale. Dark circles had formed around his sunken, hollow eyes that contrasted starkly against his skin.

But he had stopped tossing and screaming. His breathing was even, if somewhat laboured, and he did not seem to be in pain.

~ooo~

Our most basic instinct is not for survival but for family. Most of us would give our own life for the survival of a family member, yet we lead our daily life too often as if we take our family for granted.

~ Paul Pearshall

~ooo~

Fíli shook his head. He had never been particularly fond of the elves, and his opinion had not improved much since their stay as king Thranduil's "guests". He liked the dreamy looks his brother darted at a certain pointy-eared redhead even less. They would have to have a serious talk about that one of these days. Maybe it was a good thing their uncle was too concerned with other matters these days to notice the obvious. When the she-elf had suddenly shown up on their doorstep, he had, naturally, not been overly pleased. But he could not help admitting that she had been… useful. At least she had been around to help, unlike some members of their family.

The fact that she was a silvan elf and his brother a dwarf did nothing to help his uncle's cause.

If anyone had told him that a year ago, back in the Blue Mountains, he would have laughed. If anyone had told him that his uncle would abandon them in a foreign place and leave his brother's life at the mercy of selfish men and cold-hearted elves, Thorin would have laughed as well, wouldn't he? He had been a different man then, Fíli realized. Bitter, yes, strict, but also loving and caring in his own sullen way. He loved his sister dearly and when her husband had died, he had helped her raise her two boys. He had become like a father to them and Fíli and Kíli had worshipped him.

They had listened to his stories of far-away kingdoms, mythical dragons and halls filled with gold with the fascination and glowing eyes only immanent in children.

And here they were – and their uncle had chosen the gold over his own kin. Fíli briefly wondered what their mother would have to say about that. He pictured her running after her brother with a rolling pin – or maybe a hatchet? (knowing his mother, it could very well be both) – throwing curses at him that would make even Master Dwalin blush. The image brought a small smile to his lips. His mother was a force to be reckoned with. She was a gentle soul, but once she was truly angry, you didn't want to be on her bad side. The young prince didn't envy anyone who was. In fact, she probably could have conquered the Lonely Mountain single-handedly in that state and Fíli might even have ended up feeling sorry for the dragon. With a pang he realized how much he missed his mother. He had never been away from her for more than a few weeks. Now he hadn't seen her in over six months. Where was she now? What was she doing? Was she thinking of her sons?

~ooo~

To us, family means putting your arms around each other and being there.

~ Barbara Bush

~ooo~

A small noise tore him from his gloomy thoughts. It took him a moment to realize that Kíli was shivering in his sleep.

The fire had burned low and the damp cold was creeping into their very bones. With a muffled curse, Fíli went to put some more wood on the fire in the small hearth. Like everything else, even the wood was slightly damp. It smouldered more than it burned, but at least it burned at all, which was – in his opinion – a minor miracle.

With a worried look, he noted that the stack of wood had grown alarmingly small over the course of the night. Bard was out doing Mahal-knows-what and he had absolutely no idea where he could possibly find more branches. He had not seen any trees, which had not come as a surprise. The blond dwarf frowned. How anyone could live in this place voluntarily was beyond him.

The sooner they got out of here the better. But then what? Would they just follow the rest of the company and act as if nothing had happened?

A hundred questions arose in his mind. Had they reached the mountain by now? Had they found the door? Were they well, or had the dragon made short shrift of them and devoured the company (along with their burglar) for a late-night bite? Stories of the so-called dragon sickness kept pushing their way into his consciousness, but he tried to brush them aside. The more he thought about it, the less he was able to ignore the signs that were staring him right in the face. Fear for his uncle began to mingle with the fear for his brother like an icy liquid in his heart that seemed to slowly seep into the rest of his body and drown him from the inside.

He carefully sat down next to Fíli and gently wiped a wayward strand of raven hair out of his face. Strenght, little brother, he thought. Don't you dare leave me here.

With a last worried glance at Kíli, he slid down to the cold floor, rested his head against the cot and tried to make himself as comfortable as possible as he tried to get some sleep.

He could hear Oin and Bofur snoring quietly in the adjoining room. It was an unusually comforting sound. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as his eyes closed sleepily. Not all of their family had abandoned them. Not all was lost. He would take care of his brother first, and then they would take care of their uncle – by whatever means necessary.

A tiny part of his sluggish brain dared to point out that maybe the reunion would not go as smoothly as he might wish. That maybe he had acted out of line when he had stood up to his uncle and disobeyed his orders in the presence of the people of Laketown and the entire company. He pushed the doubts aside with fierce determination. No, he thought stubbornly. I belong with my brother.

With that last thought firmly fixed in his mind, he fell asleep.