Of Beginnings
It was the day when Smaug the Terrible came.
Woods burned. Woman screamed. Chaos was everywhere as all things under the dragon's breath crumbled to ash and blood.
On that day the world of Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, ended.
He was a young dwarf prince left with nothing. There were only dead and pain behind and in front of him.
The dwarfs of the lonely mountain were wandering through the wilderness. No mountain. No shelter. No home. Just loneliness and the cruel open land ahead of them.
The loss of Erebor cut deeper than any sword could ever reach. And when the alliance with the elves failed them and trust turned into doubt and doubt was replaced by hatred a dark shadow loomed over Durin's Folk.
War was coming.
Orks had taken Moria and death reached out for Durin's line yet again.
With his grandfather slaughtered, his father struck by madness and his brother bleeding out in his arms Thorin felt only bitterness and rage. And with the last of his strength he stood up against the mighty orc Azog, leading his people to victory.
That was the end of the great war of dwarfs and orcs. The orcs were defeated, but the price was high.
The rest of Thorin's people settled in the Blue Mountains. War was over, but the pain remained and the loss was never forgotten nor was it forgiven.
And in the moment when all hope seemed lost and darkness ruled his heart with an iron fist his sister Dis came to him.
He remembered her gentle kiss on his forehead, while she was leading his hand over her own stomach. And there he could feel it. A soft movement against his battle shaped palm.
His eyes looked puzzled and Dis nodded gently with the wisdom just a mother could posses.
In the darkest hour she came to him and brought light. Hope had returned.
As he watched his sister and her husband smiling proudly at their first-born son, "Fili." Dis had named the little bundle in her arms, Thorin had smiled too.
Of Winter
Thorin watched carefully over his sister's happiness.
He always did.
The little family was growing peacefully in 'the poor lodgings of their exile', how Thorin liked to call the Blue Mountains.
He was happy for his sister and his brother-in-law. He truly was.
And seeing his little nephew, smiling up at him filled his heart with warmth and pride, he didn't know he possessed anymore. But there was also something nagging at the back of his head. It just didn't feel right.
It wasn't like Thorin was not included in the family. On contrary. His sister made sure he always had a place between them.
Thorin was there when the little dwarfling babbled his first words, or when Dis had shown him how Fili could walk his first clumsy steps into his uncles open arms, all by himself.
But it wasn't home.
He hadn't realized the invisible wall, which was slowly building up, separating him from the rest of his family, but now there was no denying it.
It was their life not his. And the feeling of not belonging that tormented his soul rose stronger with every passing day.
So when Dis announced with proud that a second bundle of happiness was on its way everything seemed perfect to them.
Thorin however had buried himself in the hard work of the forge and took long trips to the City's of Men. Of course not to far away. He had noticed the steadily swelling of his sisters belly too. It wouldn't be long till the child would be born. And not for all gold in the world he was gonna miss that.
It was a gray day when he returned to Ered Luin from another journey. The King without a mountain was tired and his muscles arched from the hard work. The head of his pony hung low, while the cold wind was tugging at his cloak. He shivered.
Winter was coming.
As soon as he saw the gates of the mountain he knew something was wrong. There were too many lights, too many torches, too many guards.
He spurred his horse and urged it to run as faster as it could till they reached the entrance.
Just before he could get off his pony Balin was at his side. His face was a mask of stone, ready for battle.
"Niri had fallen." The older dwarf said in a low voice. "Your sister's husband is dead."
For a moment there was nothing more than silence between them. Pictures of countless dead faces appeared in Thorin's mind. Now he had one more to add.
"Where is she?" Thorin finally demanded to know.
He felt his chest tightened in fear as Balin took his time to answer.
"Where is Dis!" He almost screamed, but he didn't wait for a reply and stormed of through the dark mines.
The image of his brother-in-law's lifeless body made him feel sick to his bones, but the thought of his sister was what drove him now. He opened the door to her small bed chamber. There was no candle lightened and he could barley made out the dark figure in the room.
"Dis..." Thorin called out in a soft voice.
Only silence greeted him as he stepped in.
He found his sister in a catatonic stage. Dis was clenched over her son with desperate fingers digging in his nephew's way to tiny back, rocking them both gently.
As she lifted her face to meet her brothers eyes tears streamed down her cheeks. Her hair hung in messy strains from her head and her breath hitched dangerously. It broke Thorin's heart to see his beloved sister in so much pain.
Fili looked helpless at his uncle. Fear and confusion mirrored on his little face. He was unable to cope with the situation. He didn't know what to do.
In two long steps Thorin was by their sides, holding both of them in his strong arms, while rubbing soothing circles over Dis back and muttering comforting words in their ears. He was letting his sister cry at his board shoulder, while slowly night turned into day.
At some point Dis had passed out of exhaustion and drifted into a restless sleep, still clinging to Fili like a life-line.
Thorin had left and walked down into the kitchen. He looked surprised to find Balin there. He must have waited for him the whole time.
The older dwarf handed him wordless an ale and Thorin took it quietly. For a long time neither of them spoke till a deep sigh escaped the kings mouth.
"What happened?" He asked in defeat, knowing that delaying the question wouldn't do him any good, nor Dis.
"A group of orcs attacked two days ago..."
Of Grief
There was nothing much Fili remembered before his brother was born. Just bits and pieces of a darker time. A time without laughter and smiles.
He remembered his mother crying. It felt like she always did those days.
Her gentle face, once full of life, had turned into a grimace of misery and pain. The dark circles under her eyes grew with every night and her now dull hair hung uncared over her slim shoulders. Fili was worried. His mother looked thin and pale, even with the huge stomach of hers...
She was sick, uncle Thorin had told him. Healers were now constantly rushing in and out of their home. Fili had heard them whispering in the dark of madness and death and it made his heart sink even more.
No day went by without shedding tears and Fili felt so alone. He didn't know what to do. How he could help, or made it better.
He remembered uncle Thorin moving in, taking care of both of them. But it wasn't the same...never would be.
Not so long ago everything was fine. His mother had told him he would soon be a big brother and not a single day had passed without him kissing his mommy's big tummy, smiling bright, while telling the baby in their to hurry up. He would even share his toys!
Fili desperately missed those times. Times when he was sitting safe between his parents, with a warm fire crackling and his ear pressed against his mother's stomach, feeling the soft little kicks of his sibling. It had always made him happy. Back then he was very excited. He couldn't wait for his brother to come out, and so was everyone else. They would have so much fun together, he thought by himself.
Mom once asked him what he would do if it would be a little sister instead of a baby brother.
"It has to be a boy! Girls are yucky." He had solemnly replied, which made both of his parents laugh fondly.
Now his mother barely spoke to him anymore, he barely saw her and she never smiled.
At the rare times when she had held him in her arms, crying for hours, he couldn't feel his baby-brother moving inside of her and he didn't care anymore...
"What name should we give him?" His father had wondered out loud.
Fili had thought long and deep over the question.
"Kili!" He finally said. "Cause it rhymed with Fili."
The logic behind that was flawless and his dad had ruffled his hair with affectionately.
"We will see about that little one." He had said.
"You don't like the name?" Fili had given him the best pouty face he could and his father had assured him that it was a wonderful name and that he would seriously consider it.
Now his father was dead. He would never come back. Never smile at him again and never be there. At least that was what they had told him, but Fili didn't believe it. Not a single word. He was sure his father would come home. He always did. So he had waited for him, even when they told him not to. He had waited all by himself. Alone and crying.
And then there was the funeral. His mother didn't want him to go, but uncle wouldn't have any of it.
"Let the boy say his goodbyes." He had told her in a firm voice. There was no room for discussions this time.
The next day Fili went down with them into the deep halls of their ancestors. Foreign sounding Songs for the death had echoed from cold stone walls. It had almost sounded like a long forgotten lullaby to him. He watched the lifeless body of his father being buried in a crypt, always cautious not to let go of his uncles strong hand.
They said he died with honor. Fili hadn't known what that meant. He still wasn't sure.
Once they came back home his mother had stared at him for a long uncomfortable moment. She hadn't said anything, but when she suddenly reached out with her skinny hand, he had flinched at her touch. She didn't noticed. Instead Dis just stroke over his blond hair, whispering his father's name over and over again.
This night Fili had woken by nightmares. There were a lot of them lately. He went to his uncle's room, searching for comfort in the dark hours. The little dwarf was not surprised to see him with his mother in his arms. She was crying herself into sleep like any other night.
Fili would never forget how she looked up at his uncles face and said in a dead voice:
"I can't. I just can't do it without him Thorin...It's too much."
Of Future
He loved his brother with all his heart. And Mahal knows he would do anything for him.
Fili stroke a strain of damp dark hair out of Kilis face and put a gentle butterfly kiss on his forehead to sooth away the pain. Not sure if it was his own or his brothers.
"Kili." He almost broke at the look of his baby brothers in his lap.
"Please. Kili stay with me. I need you. I can't do this without you."
A bitter smile was formed at the thought of the familiar words and the truth that went with them. For the first time he could understand and truly forgive them.
"Please don't leave me. Stay with me brother..." He begged with a hoarse voice filled with sadness and grief.
But Kili didn't reply. Hadn't done so in a long time. His skin was pale and covered in a thin layer of sweat. The fever that had taken him spread through his veins like poison, unforgiving burning the live away and leaving an empty shell.
It started a week ago, with nothing but a small wound enabled in his brother's side. There shouldn't be anything to worry about. Kili was no fool, didn't hide his injury from him or his uncle. And Oin had also seen to it. The wound wasn't deep...but after a couple of days it has gotten worse.
There was heat around the injured flesh accompanied by an angry red and purple color and even the fairest touch had pained his brother gravely, till the point he was no longer able to walk.
The infection had eaten away at him and now Kili didn't even possessed the strength to open his eyes anymore.
It scared Fili behind anything else seeing his brother, his other half, wither away in the endless sleep that had claimed him. He could almost give in the illusion that this was all but a bad dream. It had to be. His brother wasn't dying in front of him, no. He was just sleeping. So he began to hum the old lullaby his mother once taught him. The only one he knew.
He felt Kili relax in his arms and phantomed a smile on the motionless face, while his thoughts drifted to better times. Times long ago, hidden under a blanket of peace and comfort. Where Kilis laughter would still ring in his ears and would trail after every step he made. Where the future seemed bright like sunrays, promising of a better morrow. Where Kili was still...
He slowly rocked back and force. The lifeless body cradled in his arms and kept humming the lullabys tune with a broken voice and a broken heart.
Tears were streaming down his face and darkness was filling his soul.
When the sun touched the horizon and no strength was left in Filis own body he lay down next to his brother. Alway ensuring the hold on Kilis hand wasn't losing.
He kissed his brother for the last time and closed his eyes, trying his best to ignore the cold that now crawled into Kili.
He missed the burning heat fiercely now. Missed his shivers that had rocked the Younger's body in his sleep. He even missed the painful moans that had been forced out of Kilis throat.
But the most he missed his brothers warm breath...
