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Fili knows his first memory of Kili, he remembers it clear as the day it happened.
It’s a nice, gentle memory that’s, quite sadly, shadowed drastically in comparison to another. One attached to their father, the same man who waited with Fili for hours while Dis was bringing his baby brother into the world.
He can’t recall what had led up to that moment, what he had for breakfast or what song played on the radio during their drive to the hospital, only that he had been confused and excited; a mixture of emotions that, to this day, cause great exhaustion in Fili.
His uncle Thorin had arrived shortly after Fili’s father had sat them in too big chairs in a too white room. Fili thinks Thorin had been in the middle of getting ready for work, his hair had been loose and he hadn’t been wearing a tie, two details that he thinks make the day special in themselves. Thorin had been fun, playing with Fili and telling him stories, trying to distract him from the torturous wait until he could see his mother again.
He doesn’t remember the games or the stories, unimportant compared to his constant nagging of “Are you sure mummy isn’t sick?”
Crossing his arms over his chest and kicking his legs back and forth as they hung high from the ground below, it took him a moment to realize his father was no longer in the room, waiting with them.
“Where’s daddy?”
“With mummy, Fili.”
“Why does he get to see her and I’m stuck here with you?”
A slight chuckle from Thorin, “You’ll get to see them both soon.”
He stuck his lip out, pouting, unsure of his uncle’s words but proved pleasantly wrong, Fili thinks, for his next memory has them all together.
Thorin had led him to another too white room, this one with a too big bed, but in it was his mother and that was all the comfort Fili needed to let go of his uncle’s hand and run over.
He had noticed her damp hair and flushed face that made her look utterly exhausted, but her brilliant smile is what caught Fili’s attention, even before the bundle of soft blankets that lay in her arms, before her gentle voice rang in his ears, “Fili, darling, this is your new baby brother.”
Fili played with the loose threads of his jumper, brows knitting together.
Brother.
Fili knew that word. He knew what it meant and who they could be. Boromir, the older boy from Birmingham, had used it a lot when he talked about Faramir. Ori and Nori and Dori were always using it when they described each other. His own uncle Thorin was brother to his mother.
He had never seen the point to one, all they seemed to do were annoy and steal your favourite toys. In fact, he had boasted of not having a brother on more than one occasion.
A gentle hand on his shoulder caused Fili to look up, his Uncle picking him up, mistaking his reverie for being unable to see Dis and the baby.
The baby.
Kili was tiny, very soft looking and pink. Fili scrunched up his nose, taking in the sight. Feathery hair adorned Kili’s small head and big, chocolate brown eyes met his. In that moment, Fili loved him.
He reached his hand out, slightly aware of Thorin setting him down on the too big bed next to his mother. His father’s hand resting on her shoulder, his other hand cradling Dis’ own. Fili gently touched the soft down of sandy-blonde on Kili’s head, wondering silently if he would look more like their Mum or Da, before looking back at his mother and decidedly asking, “When will he be big enough to play with?”
Fili found out as Kili grew up that baby brothers were annoying and did steal your favourite toys. But they were always there to play with you and listened to you like no one else ever could, two things Fili appreciated the older he got.
Not eight years after Kili had been born their father had already become estranged. He seemed happy, Fili remembers, the first year after but then seemed to become a man that had never known Fili or their family in the first place. He rarely went to watch Fili’s football games and visited the house less and less, until he stopped showing up at all.
He doesn’t know when his parents got divorced, Dis doesn’t talk about it and Fili couldn’t muster up enough energy to care if he tried. Kili is the opposite, naturally, he always has been, and Fili still can’t see why he cares so much for a man who cared so little.
As Kili got older, blonde mane turning brunette then chocolate brown to match his eyes, growing in inches more and more until he was taller than Fili could ever hope to be, Fili’s adoration did not falter.
Even now, watching the seventeen year old Durinson show off his newest obsession, his two pet rats running circles around his arms, Fili can’t help but smile. He pauses, thumbing back a text reply to Legolas, before looking back up to his own webcam image in the current Skype call.
“Still obsessing over blondie?” Kili asks, humour in his voice.
“Whatever, at least I have a boyfriend. Your only love interests are your rats, baby brother.”
“I’m not a baby.”