Chapter Text
Fiddling with the tattered fletching that he’d found, crushed and forgotten, at the bottom of one of his pockets, Kili huffed out a breath and shifted on the hard flagstones. It was hard to tell deep inside the mountain, but he was certain that he’d been waiting outside his uncle’s chambers for hours. Or an hour, at least. A long time anyway.
Long enough that one of the torches further down the wide passageway had guttered and gone out, and long enough that the guards stationed at the very far end of the passageway had changed shift. With nothing else to do, Kili had watched them, unable to make out who they were from the distance, but one of them had waved to him and he’d waved back, hoping they’d come down and talk to him. They hadn’t. And he couldn’t go to them because Amad had told him to stay put and behave, in the voice that really meant stay put and behave.
His head whipped up at the sound of footsteps and muffled voices from beyond the thick door opposite.
At last.
Tucking the ruined fletching away, Kili rolled to his feet. He busied himself knocking the worst of the dust from his trousers and tunic, and had just time to run his fingers through his hair to check it was tidy enough before the door began to swing open.
By the time Amad stepped out into the torchlit passageway, Kili had his hands clasped behind his back, feet firmly planted, and was ready to pretend he'd been stood there, patiently waiting, the whole time. But then Amad pulled Fili through the doorway and Kili forgot everything. He leapt forward and clutched at his brother’s forearm.
Fili stared at him, eyes wider than Kili had ever seen them before, and Kili’s heart dropped to his boots.
“Fee?” he whispered, ducking to get a better look at Fili’s downturned and bloodless face. “Fee, what happened?”
“Kili, don’t keep your uncle waiting.” Pressing a kiss to Fili’s temple, Amad pulled Kili’s fingers free and gave Fili a light push. As his brother moved on down the passageway, still without saying a word, Kili stepped after him, stopping when Amad tightened her grip.
“But, Amad—”
“But me no buts.” Steering him by the shoulders into the antechamber, Amad kicked the heavy door closed behind them. As the slam echoed around the stone walls, Kili cast a final look behind him and trailed after her across the chamber to his uncle’s closed study door, his mind whirling. What had they done this time? Maybe it was their nighttime adventure on Durin's day? Had Gimli snitched? Kili shook his head. His cousin wouldn’t have, but maybe they’d been spotted by someone who'd told tales instead of doing the decent thing and speaking to him or Fili. It wasn’t fair. They’d been so careful.
By the time Amad had knocked and Uncle Thorin bade them come in, Kili had thought of a few other possibilities other than Durin's day. Several, in fact. As he listened with half an ear to Thorin saying something to Amad about banging doors and the mountain falling down around their ears, Kili chewed on a fingernail and wished that he’d been given a few moments to whisper with Fili.
There was nothing for it but to tell the truth. Whatever it was. Amad beckoned him forward and Kili drew close to his uncle’s desk. They were going to be confined to the mountain again. He just knew it in his bones. And in such fine weather too. Gimli was going to be annoyed.
The door closed behind him as Amad left, and Kili waited, clasping sweaty hands behind his back. Since Thorin had returned to his paperwork and wasn’t paying him any attention, Kili took the chance to pull back his shoulders and tilt his chin, bracing himself to hear whatever it was that had so upset his big brother.
After what felt like forever, Thorin finished with the parchment, set it to one side, and leant back in his chair. Over steepled fingers, he said, “I trust you weren’t too bored waiting?”
“No, Uncle. I was…” Looking around the room for inspiration, Kili’s gaze was drawn back to the parchment with its rows of neat figures. “I was thinking over some problems Balin set for us this morning. At our lessons.”
His uncle raised an eyebrow. “Indeed.” He smiled, and Kili’s shoulders loosened only to tense up again when Thorin continued, “I, and I’m sure I speak for Balin too, am pleased to hear that you’re taking your studies so seriously. Take a seat, Kili. There’s something important we need to discuss.”
Feeling lighter, Kili closed the door to his uncle's chambers, carefully so it didn't slam, and walked as slowly as he could to the junction at the end of the passageway.
After saying a quick hello to the guards, Kili's smile faded away. He looked up and down the wide thoroughfare that separated his uncle's rooms from the rest of the mountain. The afternoon shift changes were in progress and dwarves flowed past in both directions, either heading deeper into the mountain towards the forges and mines or away towards their homes in the main settlement. But nowhere in the seething mass of his dark or red-haired or helmed kin could Kili spot a head of golden curls.
Still on tip-toe, he turned at a light tap on his shoulder.
"That way, lad," said one of the guards, pointing toward where the dim light filtered in from outside. “He’s got a bit of a headstart on you though. Everything all right, is it?”
“Yes. Our uncle told us that—” Remembering Thorin’s parting instruction to keep things to himself, Kili bit his lip and nodded. “Nothing.”
The guard raised an eyebrow.
“Nothing important anyway,” added Kili. “Just…” A flash of inspiration saved him. “He told us we had to study a lot harder.” That was true enough, and probably fine to say.
“Ah, that’ll be it. I thought your brother looked a bit preoccupied.” The guard nodded at his companion. “Fili always stops to have a word or two, but he walked right past us. Didn’t he, Dwati? As if we weren't even here. And I said, ‘Well, that’s not like him’, didn’t I?”
“You did.” Dwati nodded. “It’s not like him at all.”
They were both staring at him, and he couldn’t hang about talking any longer. Not only because he was bound to be keeping Fili waiting, but because the secret was burning a hole in Kili's chest. He stepped backward, colliding with someone coming the other way. "Sorry," he said as the dwarf rushed past without acknowledging him. "I have to go," he told the guards. "I'll…"
Turning, he left whatever he'd intended to say unsaid, since he didn't know what it was anyway, and hurried away, sticking close to the walls to stay out of everyone's way as much as possible. At last he made it to the end and ran down the wide stairway, through the hall that led to the mountain's wide-open gates, and out into the daylight. With a wave to the gate-guards, he bounded down the last set of stairs, jumping the final half dozen to land on the cobblestones.
He looked around, expecting to see Fili leaning against a wall, head tilted up to the weak winter sun and eyes closed, waiting patiently for him. Taking a second more careful look up and down the busy street, Kili frowned. Where was he?
The settlement was a sprawling place, and never more so than when you desperately needed to find someone. Peeping down the alleys between rows of houses, Kili made his way to the entrance of the market that was tucked between the jutting entrance to the mountain and the thick wall that encircled the settlement. It was busy with dwarves who had come off-shift within the mountain, and those shopping for some last moment fresh goods for their dinner. Weaving through the crowds, Kili’s heart sank as he approached the pastry stall set out in the shadow of the wall. Not only was Fili not here either, but Bombur’s stall was disappointingly empty with no sign of the friendly shopkeep. Kili’s stomach rumbled and he sighed.
Scuffing a heel against the cobblestones and thinking hard, he brightened with the realisation that he knew exactly where Fili would be. He hurried back through the market, taking a sharp right and running along the line of the wall toward the training yard. Of course, Fili would’ve headed straight to find a weapon and something or someone willing to be hit. It was what he always did when he needed to think things over. Or almost always anyway.
The sound of clashing metal and dwarvish yells filled the air as Kili drew closer. He shoved open the doors set in the high wall of the yard and stopped.
There were plenty of dwarves here too, but he could see straight away that none of them were his brother. Leaving plenty of space so as not to distract anyone, Kili picked his way around the sparring partners until he reached Dwalin who was standing with his arms crossed watching a bout. Perhaps Fili was in one of the private rooms set around the yard? All but one of the doors were closed so it was possible.
“Back again so soon, lad?” Dwalin looked him up and down. “Go on then. Run and fetch a sword. Quick.”
“Is my brother here?”
“Does that matter?” With a jerk of his head toward the weapons store on the far side of the yard, Dwalin frowned. “Go on. You were both mucking about earlier so you can give me a decent hour now, and he can give me his later. And it’ll be two hours if you’re not quick about it.”
“I need to find Fee first.” And he hadn’t been mucking about. They’d been working hard on Fili’s archery. That they’d been helpless with laughter about a particularly — even for his brother — poor shot when Dwalin glowered across the yard was hardly either of their faults. It was just bad timing. “Uncle Thorin spoke to us and—”
“What have you done this time?”
Insulted, Kili drew himself up to his full height and glared at his tutor.
It didn’t have the impact he’d hoped for when, in response, Dwalin grabbed Kili's jaw and tilted his head side to side. “It's going to take me a long while to get used to this. Tidy job though, you're starting to get the hang of it.” Releasing him, Dwalin waved dismissively. “Go on then. Off you go and find him. And take your scowls with you.”
Kili stomped back out through the gates and resisted the urge to slam the door behind him. Scratching at the still itchy stubble on his chin — would it ever stop itching? — he started in the direction of home.
But Fili wasn't at home, or in the other half dozen places Kili could think of.
Out of ideas, Kili wandered his way through the quieter streets in the direction of the main gate. He huffed out a breath as his eyes fell on the alehouse. It wasn't likely but he may as well take a quick look.
Cracking open the heavy door, he peeped through, his eyes taking a long moment to adjust to the smoky darkness.
“Kili.” A familiar shape waved at him from the bar. “Come on in.”
After taking a glance both ways along the street, to reassure himself that Amad wasn’t behind him, Kili slipped inside and made his way through the mostly empty tables.
“Hello, lad.” Patting the stool beside him, Molir raised a finger to the barkeep. "What’re you doing in here? For I know Dis will box your ears should she catch you in the alehouse in the middle of the afternoon.”
Amad would box his ears if she caught him in an alehouse at all. It wasn’t a welcome thought. Kili glanced over his shoulder toward the door, turning back at a thud to find a brimming tankard of ale on the counter in front of him. “You called me in!” Taking a sip, he licked the foam from his lips and remembered his manners. “Thank you for the ale.”
Molir shrugged. “Big day today. How are you feeling?”
It was Kili's turn to shrug as he took another slug of ale. The alehouse door creaked and Kili spun on the stool, his heart beating too fast, as a dwarf walked in. Not Amad. He breathed out and smiled at Molir.
“Good lad, there's not much phases you, Kili, eh? It's a big honour, and should ruffle a few feathers too.” Busy with filling his pipe, Molir chuckled to himself.
Eyeing Molir over his tankard, Kili frowned. “Do you know?” Uncle Thorin had said it was a secret from anyone who wasn’t family. Did the captain of the guard count as family? He hadn’t thought to ask.
Molir frowned back, setting his unlit pipe on the bartop. “Do you?”
“I don’t know.” It was an honest answer. “Have you seen Fee?”
“Headed out the gate an hour or so ago. Where are you going?”
Outside the cosy embrace of the settlement walls, the winds were fierce and there was the promise of more snow on the air. Kili called over his shoulder to the gate-guard. “Toward the valley, you said? Not west?”
“He headed that way anyway. Your amad know you're out here by yourself?”
Kili rolled his eyes. “Of course. I was a bit delayed, that's all. I'll go catch him up now.” Walking away, he picked up the pace and ignored the guard calling his name, pretending he hadn't heard by fussing with his bracer.
Once the road dipped toward the valley and he was well out of sight of the gate, he started running, knowing now exactly where Fili would be. At the next curve, he clambered over the ice-coated boulders that lined the road and struck out in the direction of their ridge.
As he ran through damp mountain grasses that brushed his thighs and tried to leap his way from dry patch to dry patch over the worst of the boggy spots, he mulled over Molir’s ruffled feathers remark and wished he’d thought to ask. Because he couldn't imagine whose feathers could possibly be ruffled. Everyone liked Fili, and, as far as he was aware, he hadn’t done anything to truly upset anyone.
Mistiming a jump, he landed half-on and half-off a tuft of grass, swearing under his breath when dark water splashed up his leg and into his boot. Never mind ruffled feathers. If he went home to Amad smelling like he’d been bathing in a bog, he’d be getting his ears ruffled.
He slowed down after that, picking his steps with more care as he drew closer to the ridge. The ground might be drier here but it was a foolish dwarf who ran too close to the crumbling edge. Especially when the rocks underfoot were iced and slippery. No sense in taking a tumble down the mountain.
“Fee!” he shouted, waving as he spotted his brother sitting on the large flat rock that jutted out over the ridge.
His brother looked over his shoulder and Kili pretended he hadn't seen the scowl. Running the last of the distance, all worries about a fall forgotten, he scrambled up onto the rock and scooted forward to sit beside Fili.
“You didn't wait for me.” Kili tried to keep the accusation out of his voice as he looked down between their dangling boots into the valley below. Picking up a pebble from the little pile by Fili’s side, Kili tossed it over the edge and watched it fall away until it disappeared from sight. “I looked everywhere for you.”
“Have you been drinking?” Fili didn't look happy. “And please don't tell me you don't have as much as a knife with you. And where's your cloak?” He shrugged out of his.
Kili wrapped the cloak thrust at him around his shoulders obediently, recognising that his brother needed to fuss. “Thank you.” He smiled at Fili, looking down again between his swinging boots when that failed to take the scowl from Fili's face.
They sat in silence, listening to the wind whistling underneath the rock, until Kili could take it no more. “Do you want to talk?” When that didn’t get an answer, he nudged Fili’s shoulder with his. “Fee? About us being princes now?”
Fili shook his big, shaggy head.
As Kili watched the mess of snarled golden curls being tugged this way and that in the mountain air, he frowned, pushing his own hair behind his ears and reminding himself to redo Fili's braids the moment they got home. They would need to start looking a bit more presentable now, at all times, their uncle had said so.
But Uncle Thorin wasn’t here.
Kili palmed a handful of pebbles. “I bet you can't hit that rock over there. The one with the white flowers.”
Lifting his head, Fili followed Kili's pointing finger along the ridge. His eyes narrowed and a flicker of a smile played on his lips. “What do you bet me?”
“The dishes.”
“For the next week.” Fili held out his hand. “Best of three?”