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For as long as Kili could remember he and his older brother had been, well, different.
Maybe it was because there were only one or two other younglings of their age in the halls of Ered Luin. Or maybe it was the way they had always been singled out from the others since birth, because their mother was very conscious of their royal blood.
Whatever the reason, everyone in the small, rough dwarven settlement knew about the extraordinary bond between the two brothers. They were a sort of single two-headed, dual-personality entity. Fili-and-Kili. Even when they were young enough that the relatively small age difference was painfully obvious, you couldn’t have one without the other.
When their uncle Thorin had presented his older nephew with a small wooden toy battle-axe he may as well have given the gift to both. For days the halls rang with the clatter of solid blows against the wooden bedpost, switching off with the lighter, glancing blows of the younger brother, gently coached by the elder.
It was Thorin who started their weapons training in earnest, demonstrating the intricate dance of sword work with two pairs of eyes fixed on his every move, one blue, one dark. When their mother, Dis, complained that he was starting Kili far to early—after all, the boy could hardly hold a pot-metal practice sword, let alone swing it—Thorin simply shrugged.
“What would you have me do?” he asked, to his sister’s annoyance. “Fili is ready for training, and if I don’t teach Kili as well then Fili will do it himself.”
They latched onto Thorin like a third parent, spending most of their free time in the hot metallic air of his forge, watching with interest as he created beautiful and deadly things for the men who lived in the nearby town. And Thorin watched as their heads turned, perfectly in sync in every motion, watching every move he made. It was almost as though the two were not separate, but simply two parts of the same whole.
He kept his observations to himself, and along with everyone else, assumed that they would grow out of it, given time.
***
It was when they were nine and fourteen years old, respectively, that Kili crawled into his older brother’s bed for the first time.
That was the moment when his childhood nightmares transitioned from “bad things happening to me” to “bad things happening to him”. He woke with a small mewl, the remnants of a dream-shriek. He curled on his side with a whimper, shaking all over. It hadn’t been only Fili that time, but also their mother, and Thorin, disappearing beneath the feet of the shadowy shapeless figures that were all his childish mind could show him of the dreaded orcs.
He stuffed a small fist in his mouth, muffling his tears. From the bed next to his came a rustle, and a concerned, sleep-blurred voice. “Kili? Kili, what’s going on?”
Kili rolled out of bed, stumbling towards that voice. When he closed his eyes all he could see was that beloved face disappearing under booted feet, screaming…
He pulled himself up onto the soft down quilt, pawing in the dark for his brother. For a panicked moment he couldn’t find anything but pillows and ruffled blankets, before an arm reached out to draw him in.
“What’s this?” Fili asked, fingers wandering gently over his brother’s face, wiping away the tears.
“I dreamed of the battle,” Kili whispered, burrowing closer, pressing his face into his brother’s warm body. “You were slain. And mother. And uncle.”
Fili made a low, soothing sound, pushing and pulling at him until he was better arranged, curled against his brother’s chest. “I’m still here, Kili. Still here. See?” A hand tangled in his dark hair, tugging lightly.
Kili reached up, finding a lock of wavy, undone braid and pulling himself. Fili gave a muffled giggle, thumping his shoulder. “Go back to sleep, brother.”
And Kili did, hand still gripping his brother’s hair, feeling the gentle pressure against his scalp as his brother shifted and pulled a bit. After that, when their mother came to wake them, more often than not she found them in the same bed, each with a small lock of hair in a firm grip.
***
It was when they had both hit adolescence that the whispers started. Dwarves were, on the whole, more interested in gems and metals than the doings of others, but they still noticed the looks, the touches, the bond.
Inappropriate said some, unnatural muttered others.
The brothers were oblivious, lost in a world that had room only for their pranks, their training, and each other.
It was one day when they were practicing that everything changed. It was the day the young Kili had picked up a solid short-bow for the first time. He had grown tired of sword-sparring with his brother, who had a natural gift for the weapon, and selected a hunter’s training bow from the weapons available to them. He announced that he would be the best archer that Ered Luin had ever seen, much to Fili’s amusement.
In the absence of an instructor, Kili worked out himself the grip, the draw, and fitted a dull training arrow to the string. He drew it back as far as his shaking arms could pull, loosed—and watched mournfully as the arrow clattered to the stone floor less than a yard away.
Fili let out a loud bark of laughter, and Kili lowered his head, biting the inside of his cheek hard against hot, shameful tears. He raised the bow above his head with one hand, ready to smash it to the floor in a fit of childish pique, when fingers under his chin forced his face up.
Fili gently pulled the bow from his grasp, eyes fixed on his face and the barely held-back tears. Hesitantly, Kili reached out, gripping one of the long braids at the side of his brother’s face, and tugged lightly. Fili smiled, doing the same with a long dark lock.
It’s okay. I’m here with you. You’re here. Nothing else matters.
They rested their foreheads together for a long moment, sharing breath, as Kili felt the world align around him again.
Then the voices, the shouts, the cruel words.
A group of older dwarves, natives of Ered Luin who resented the encroachment of the Longbeard refugees into their ancestral halls, had come for weapons practice.
Kili couldn’t make sense of everything they said—‘pervert,’ he heard, as well as several lewd suggestions of what the brothers did after dark.
Worst of all, it was all directed at Fili. He glanced up at his older brother to see that his jaw was clenched, eyes wide, hurt and frightened. Instantly Kili’s rage drained away, and he shot a dismissive look at the other dwarves. He couldn’t take them all on—not that he didn’t want to try—and all he could do was get his brother away.
He grasped at Fili’s sleeve, ignoring the fresh wave of jeers and taunts, hauling him from the room. In the hallway he stopped, turning to face his brother, still gripping his clothing. Fili’s eyes were slightly wild, scared, as he looked down into Kili’s face.
Then the older dwarf sighed. He reached out to grab at Kili’s hair, pulling their heads sharply together. Kili relished the slight pain, breathing in his brother with every inhale, the tension melting from both their bodies.
I’m here. You’re here. That’s all we’ll ever need.
Fili pressed his lips against Kili’s temple, hard enough that the younger dwarf could feel his teeth, before stepping away and continuing down the hall, eyes calm once more. Kili followed, admiring his brother from behind.
He thought Fili was incredible, a perfect heir for their lost kingdom of Erebor. Even if no one else did, he would follow his brother to whatever end.
That night was the first time that Fili crawled into his bed, rather than the other way around. Kili awoke to the rustle of Fili’s heavy fur coverlet across the floor, and rolled over to face his brother. The blond dwarf looked tousled and tired, hair loose from its customary braids, as he held up the coverlet sheepishly.
“You looked cold,” he said, by way of explanation. Kili didn’t say a word, lifting his blankets to allow his brother to crawl in beside him, pulling the coverlet over to cover them both, curling around Fili’s shaking body as well as he could. He reached up to bury his hands in the thick, sweet-smelling hair, and felt the trembling ease. He fell asleep like that, holding his brother tightly, hand fisted in his locks.
I’m here. You’re here. We’re safe. Together.
***
They were more careful in public from that day on. With Fili’s gentle guidance Kili began the long process of mastering the short-bow. Fili stuck with his dual swords, not even picking up the sling that dwarves often regarded as a more ‘proper’ ranged weapon for their race.
“You can stay far away and hit your enemies without closing, brother,” he teased, ruffling Kili’s dark hair. “I’ll beat my enemies in a fair fight, thank you!”
As for himself, Kili took to dogging his brother’s steps. Wherever Fili was, in the main hall, speaking to their mother, learning smithing from their uncle, Kili was there like a small dark shadow.
Fili would be heir after Thorin, and he was constantly aware of that fact. Whenever the strain started to become too much, Kili could see it in the tightening around his mouth and eyes, the way his gaze started to flicker rapidly at every noise and movement. And when that happened he would reach out, grabbing a braid, or as his brother got older, a bit of his beard, and tug. And Fili would look at him with eyes full of gratitude, bump their shoulders lightly together, and go on with whatever he was doing.
I’m here. You’re safe. I’m here to look after you.
By the time they were both in their 30’s—still young for dwarves, barely out of adolescence—the other dwarves of the mountain halls were accustomed to the brothers’ rather odd relationship. The disapproving looks and mutters still followed them, but Fili was the only one who still took it to heart.
Kili took it upon himself to track down the worst offenders, the ones whose comments made his brother go pale with anger and hurt, taking them on in quick, quiet fights. This usually stopped the open hostility, and Kili couldn’t hold back his feeling of smugness, even when Fili told him off later.
“You’re not doing either of us any good,” he repeated every time, even as he tended to his brother’s bruises and scrapes. “You’re making the rumors worse.”
Kili just grinned, leaning to press their foreheads together, breathing in tandem. He could ignore the rumors. If anyone thought Fili would ever do those things to him they were horribly mistaken. Fili was perfect.
***
That was the state of affairs until they hit their fifties. It was at that point that Kili’s feelings toward his brother started to shift drastically. He had always loved Fili, now he started to realize that he loved him more than a brother really should. He admired his brother’s handsome face, grace with his twin swords, and the royal bearing that Fili made look so effortless.
Kili had no doubts about his own looks and abilities. He wasn’t exceptionally good with any proper dwarf weapon, only his bow. Though he gathered from the men and elves the small settlement traded with that they found his face quite comely, he wasn’t attractive by dwarf standards. His features were too delicate, his nose too small, and after one unfortunate incident with his bowstring he kept his growing beard trimmed short.
Fili took to wearing braids in his beard as well as his hair, and Kili teased him, saying it was only in order to make it easier for his brother to pull. He kept that comment private, in the darkness of their still shared bedchamber. No need for anyone to be making inappropriate assumptions from it. And he could most certainly not show Fili how much he wished those assumptions were true.
They still slept in a warm tangle, though their positions were forced to shift as Kili sprouted rapidly in height. By the time he was 52 he was several inches taller than his brother, though Fili could still beat him easily in a fair fight. And fight they did, on the rare occasions they disagreed. It was never serious, a swift tussle that ended with both lying panting and giggling on the floor, Kili pinned beneath his brother’s still greater weight, and they would forget their disagreement in breathless laughter.
If the fights usually involved more hair pulling than most the spectators always shrugged it off. After all, a fight between brothers couldn’t be expected to be handled with total maturity.
Kili knew why it was, though; it was their way of holding on, each grounding himself against the other. The sharp tugging pain held him there, with his brother, and they would always be safe together.
***
Yes, Kili knew what he and his brother had was different, but he didn’t think that much of it until they were both adults, in their sixties.
That was when, for the first time, Fili didn’t come back to their bedchamber one night.
He’d been drinking and singing with a group of youngsters, and Kili had taken himself off early. He wasn’t needed in his self-appointed role as his brother’s guardian right now; he could entertain himself for a while. He returned to their room long after dark, and saw that Fili wasn’t back yet.
He shrugged it off, stripping to his nightclothes and flinging himself into bed, leaving a space beside himself as always. It must have been several hours later that he awoke, shivering all over with a sense of wrongness.
It took him no time to figure out what the problem was. No warm body was pressed against his, no breath against his lips, no fingers tangled in his hair. No sound of breath from the other bed.
He rolled over, closed his eyes, and tried to force himself back to sleep. He had limited success, and he finally rose for the day when sunlight slanted through the small window of their chamber.
There was still no sign of Fili. Kili bit his lip, fetched his bow, and spent his day hunting on the mountain slopes of their home. He knew he had no right to be angry. Fili didn’t belong to him, and he could never give Fili everything he needed. All he was to Fili, and all he should be, was his brother. Not to mention that Fili was the heir to their throne, which meant that he was expected to produce heirs himself someday.
Kili aimed a vicious kick at a downed branch on his way past it, carrying his catch home at sunset. The wood splintered satisfyingly, and Kili took perverse pleasure in the pain that shot up his leg.
After all, he didn’t even know for certain where his brother had been last night. He may have passed out somewhere, or actually spent the entire night merrymaking. He was making a problem out of nothing.
He dropped his catch, three fair-sized rabbits, in the kitchens, grabbed a fist-sized loaf of bread and piece of cheese, and headed back to his own chamber. He found Fili seated on the side of his own bed, poring over a thick book. Kili tossed his bow into a corner, turning his back on his brother, and stripped in stony silence.
There was no sound behind him, though Fili must have finished a page by now, were he really reading. He turned to his bed, still ignoring the other dwarf, and arranged himself on it with care for his injured foot. Even so, he couldn’t hold back a hiss of pain.
That broke the impasse. Fili was instantly at his side, reaching to pull off his stocking. “What did you do, Kili?” he demanded, inspecting the dark blossoming bruise. The younger dwarf shrugged, looking closely at his brother. There was something…off about him. He refused to make eye contact, his braids were clumsily tied, and beneath the smell of ale…
Kili tugged his foot away, pain shooting through his chest obscuring that of his leg. Now Fili looked at him, shame clear in his eyes.
Kili turned away, lying back on his bed, sprawling out to pointedly take up the entire mattress. He could hear Fili moving around, preparing for sleep as well. It was after he blew out the candle and they had listened silently to each other’s breathing for several minutes when Fili spoke again. “Kili? I…I don’t want to sleep alone.”
Kili shut his eyes. No, he hadn’t been alone last night, had he? “I know, wouldn’t that be uncomfortable?” he snapped, rolling violently away from his brother and closing his eyes tight.
From the catch in Fili’s breath he knew exactly what Kili was getting at, and he stayed in his own bed. Neither of them slept much that night.
By the next afternoon every dwarf in the halls knew that the brothers had had a tiff. And there was no doubt in anyone’s mind who the wronged party was. In a complete reversal of roles Fili padded quietly in his brother’s footsteps, all trace of his self-confidence as Durin’s heir gone.
Kili resolutely ignored him, proceeding to breakfast in the dining hall, to weapons training, to luncheon, to his uncle’s forge, and to the training rooms again while pretending to be unaware of his blond shadow. He knew he was being unreasonable, and the glimpse of hurt he saw every time he accidentally met that intense blue gaze made his throat close.
He stayed stubborn for two full days, until they were back in the privacy of their bedchamber, preparing again for sleep. Kili stood for a moment, staring at his cold tangle of blankets, and quite abruptly decided that his hurt feelings were not worth spending another night alone. He turned on his heel and marched over to where Fili was shifting under his blankets, trying to get comfortable.
His movements ceased instantly when he felt his brother slide into bed behind him, reaching tentatively around to clasp his hands. Faster than Kili thought possible his brother had flipped around in his arms, grabbing two handfuls of dark hair and dragging their faces together. Forehead to forehead, nose to nose, Kili shivered as his brother’s unbraided beard tickled against his mouth. Fili felt right and smelled right, and his breath brushed Kili’s lips as he exhaled a great sigh of relief.
This was closer even than they normally slept, and Kili felt his heart race at the thought. It would be so easy, just a tilt of the head and he could—no. Instead he reached up to tug lightly at his brother’s beard. There was a muffled huff of laughter, and the hands in his hair gave another firm pull. It was I’m here and I’m sorry and I love you all at once.
***
From that point on, when Fili seemed to be eyeing a potential bedmate, Kili would find one for himself. He would leave Fili’s side with a tug on his hair, letting him know that everything was alright. By mutual, unspoken agreement they never brought these temporary bed-partners back to their own chamber.
Fili, as the handsome, young, charming heir of Durin could have his pick of the few females in the halls of the Blue Mountains. Younger, less attractive Kili settled for the males, if ‘settled’ was the word. He thought he preferred it this way, and his one encounter with a woman confirmed this. Lying next to a male, he could nearly imagine that the person sharing his bed was the person he desperately wished it was.
They would always return to their room after one night out of it, a quick laughing tussle would get rid of the scents and tangles of the night before. As Kili tugged the braids out of his brother’s hair, and suffered through tousling of his own locks, he could feel happiness like he’d never felt before.
They may muss your hair, they may get their awful smell all over you, but they will never leave a mark I can’t cover over with me.
It was a hunting trip that disrupted them. Out in the forest, on the slopes of the Blue Mountains, Kili had spotted a plump young deer. He raised his bow, glancing to the side at his brother. Fili already had a knife out to finish the kill.
Kili aimed for the doe’s chest, pulled back, and let the arrow fly, just as the deer startled at some noise behind it. The arrow thudded into its flank, not a fatal wound, nor even an immediately crippling one. With a growl of frustration Kili took off after the fleeing animal at a run. He couldn’t let it escape to be taken by some forest predator.
Fili was pounding at his heels, and Kili ignored his brother in favor of watching the deer’s trail up ahead. They broke out of the forest cover, and a deep ravine opened before their feet. The deer had leapt it already, and Kili gathered himself for the jump, heart pounding in his ears, nothing but the thrill of the chase in his mind.
He was almost at the edge when a hand twisted in his jacket yanked him back, and he stumbled. Another body crashed into him from behind, and he went tumbling to land right at the edge of the cliff. He swatted at his brother, struggling to rise and continue the chase.
It was when his hair was pulled hard enough that several strands parted from his scalp that the pain finally brought him back to reality. He lay on his back, panting under Fili’s weight as everything settled back into place around him. Craning his neck, he looked at the ravine again, and realized the distance was easily twice as wide as he could leap.
Fili was watching his face intently, and only let him up when the wildness left his brother’s eyes. “You complete idiot!” he hissed, cuffing Kili on the side of the head. “You were going to jump. Why would you do something so stupid?”
Kili bristled, but one look at his brother’s wide, frightened eyes completely derailed his indignation. Fili was never this harsh, especially not with his brother, except when he was scared. He was still yelling, insulting Kili’s intelligence, his looks, and his ancestry, apparently too angry to care about the implications to himself. Kili grabbed one of his beard braids, yanking until their foreheads cracked together, interrupting Fili’s tirade with a small grunt of pain.
Fili let out a long, shuddering breath, hands coming up to grip the sides of Kili’s head. Kili later had no idea what came over him. Maybe it was the adrenaline of the chase and close call still pumping through his veins. Whatever drove him to it, he felt himself yanking at his brother’s hair, hauling him in until their lips met.
It was clumsy, their noses bumped and teeth clashed but, oh, it was perfect. Fili’s mouth opened in a ragged groan, and Kili froze. He shouldn’t have done that. What was he thinking? His fears were quickly laid aside as Fili’s tongue traced his teeth and brushed his own. Strong arms drew him in forcefully and his hands were scrabbling at Fili’s back. Not close enough, not nearly close enough…
Finally need for oxygen drove them apart, shallow pants through noses no longer sufficient. Kili looked up at his brother’s face, at eyes lidded and dark with desire, at open, red, panting lips—and panicked.
He scrambled out from under his brother, tripped over his bow as he lurched to his feet, and sprinted for home, counting on his longer legs for escape.
***
That night Kili got spectacularly drunk. His mother finally located him in the early hours of the morning, in a dark corner of the kitchens, half sprawled on the floor, clutching vaguely at the still half-full mug of ale. She knelt, removed the mug from his hand, and gripped his chin to force him to face her.
“Your brother is upset,” she informed him, voice stern and questioning at once.
Kili smiled ruefully, trying to force her face into focus. “He would be, wouldn’t he? I’ve done…the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life.” He gestured expansively, and looked over in mild confusion when his hand unexpectedly hit the wall.
Dis jerked his attention back to her with a hand on his chin. She studied his face, while he tried to look serious. It was a testament to how upset he was that a cold shiver of distress could work through the warm contentment of the drink.
“Who was it?” Dis asked quietly. At her son’s confused look she clarified. “The only thing I can think of that could come between you two would be love. Who was it?”
He laughed harshly. “It doesn’t matter, it isn’t as if he’s interested in me, at all.” He stood, then swayed as the edges of his vision couldn’t keep up with the rapid motion.
Dis clicked her tongue in annoyance, ducking under her much taller son’s arm to support him. “Not interested in you? Nonsense. You’re as much Durin’s heir as your brother is, and just as handsome as well. The boy will come around.”
Kili smiled, wishing desperately that he had drunk enough to cover the flash of pain that went through him at those words. “Won’t,” he muttered rebelliously, and his mother didn’t bother to correct him.
Later he only vaguely remembered being deposited in his own bedchamber, handed over to his concerned brother. Hands other than his own stripped him down to his smallclothes, and he fell asleep tucked warmly against his brother’s stocky body, Fili spooning behind him to press gentle lips to the back of his neck.
***
Kili woke the next morning to the worst hangover of his short life. His head pounded, and he covered his eyes with a groan. A fist lightly impacted his upper arm, and he swatted blindly at the shuffling noises.
“Don’t do that, brother, you’ll make the head worse,” came the amused voice from beside him. “There’s a bucket on your side of the bed. Make sure you aim for it if you’re going to be sick.” There was nothing in Fili’s voice except concern and quietly suppressed laughter.
Kili groaned again. Fili was the sensible one. No matter what the circumstances, he wouldn’t have drunk himself into this state. Kili uncovered his eyes and sat up, opening his mouth. What he was going to say he didn’t know, and he never found out, as he made a frantic scramble for the bucket.
Fili chuckled, scooting over behind the younger dwarf, holding back his long dark locks until he was finished. When Kili looked back up at his brother it was with shame on his face.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have had that much, I guess.”
Fili smiled wider, reaching out to tug at his hair. “Of course you shouldn’t have. This is why you need me to look after you.”
Kili gave a weak smile in response, and reached for a mug on his bedside table. As he’d hoped, it contained water, and he rinsed his mouth before cautiously sipping at it. The pounding of his head faded a little. He looked up, and caught Fili watching him with an expression on his face that made his breath catch.
Well, there was little point in pretending that yesterday hadn’t happened. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, looking down again, though he could still feel that blue gaze on him. “I should have thought before I acted.”
Silence. Then—“Why did you kiss me?” Fili sounded like he was staying calm with extreme effort.
“Because I need you,” Kili whispered. “You keep me here. You keep me from doing anything stupid. You’re my everything. I know I shouldn’t have, I wasn’t thinking, as always. I’m so—“
“Don’t be sorry,” Fili interrupted him abruptly. “Don’t be sorry. What do you think I would do without you?” Kili’s head started up, and his mouth opened in protest, headache nearly forgotten. “You know I’m under more pressure than you are. I’m the heir, after Thorin. And I already have to act like it, look like it. You’re the only thing that keeps me sane, I think. And you would probably make a better heir than I do, anyway.”
Kili gaped at him, completely caught off guard, unable even to protest, he was so shocked. Fili gave a small chuckle, pulling his hair again. “Close your mouth, brother,” he said, wrestling Kili into a headlock and pressing a clumsy kiss against his ear.
“I’m glad you kissed me,” Fili whispered into his brother’s dark hair. “I’m glad you told me this. I love you.”
It took about thirty seconds for the full implications of that statement to work into Kili’s brain, and he swallowed back a lump in his throat, reached up, tugging at a blond braid. “I love you, brother. And no matter what happens, I’ll always be around to help you remember to have fun. Can’t have the King working himself to death.”
Fili chuckled, and Kili used the grip on his hair as leverage, trying to haul his brother around for a real kiss. Just before their lips met, Fili pulled away violently. “Ugh. Not now, Kili. Your breath still smells like sick!”
***
Despite that intimate moment, nothing changed between the brothers for several days. Kili threw himself into hunting small game for the kitchens, since while tracking in the woods he couldn’t think too hard about the situation. At night he lay awake, Fili’s head tucked under his chin, trying to make sense of it.
Since that day Fili had made no move to touch him beyond their normal tussling, not had he said anything about the conversation. In fact, except for the occasional stabilizing tugs at Kili’s hair, his brother seemed to be actively avoiding physical contact.
And Kili had felt his brother’s eyes on him at odd times, when Fili thought he wasn’t looking. There was love in that gaze, of course, but also a terrible fear, and Kili had no idea what that may have meant.
Had he been paying a little more attention to the warm body pressed against his, he may have noticed that Fili was as sleepless as he was.
At last, one morning, Kili lost it. Fili had gotten up at the first light of dawn, carefully disentangled himself from Kili, and was now seated on the edge of his own bed, pulling on his clothes for the day without a word. Kili watched him for a moment, before grabbing a soft-soled boot from the floor and lobbing it at his brother.
Fili raised an arm to protect himself, and looked over his forearm, startled. “What—“ he started, but Kili interrupted.
“What’s wrong with you?” he shouted. Color rose immediately into Fili’s cheeks, and he opened his mouth to say something, but Kili just continued over him. “You said you’re glad I kissed you, that you loved me. And I was supposed to just pretend that didn’t happen?”
He stood, suddenly quite conscious of the fact that he’d managed to pick this fight when Fili was fully dressed and he himself was in his smallclothes. He tried not to let the flash of embarrassment show, pacing angrily up and down as he gestured sharply with his points.
“You knew how worried I was that I had upset or offended you when I did that, and you told me exactly what I wanted to hear. I don’t want to be lied to, Fili!”
“Kili—“ his brother managed to get in as Kili paused for breath, but Kili wasn’t done. “I know you love me, but that’s not what I want!”
Suddenly Fili was standing as well, the expression on his face unreadable but so intense that Kili halted his tirade and took a step back. “What do you want, then?” And his voice was low and strained as he advanced on his brother, who was now thinking he should have kept his mouth shut.
“I-I…” Kili stuttered, taking another step backward, his calves impacting the edge of the bed behind him. He refused to be driven onto it, pressing his slight height advantage to look down into Fili’s face. The older dwarf stopped nearly standing on Kili’s toes, close enough to let his breath wash warm over Kili’s lips as he breathed “I said, what do you want Kili?”
He remained silent until the next breath ghosted over his mouth, and he had to either answer or bend to kiss his brother right now. “You,” he whispered, and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath. “Only you. All of you.”
With a tiny, almost pained whimper Fili launched himself into a kiss just as wild as the one of a few days before, Kili responding readily even before he recovered from his surprise. His mouth was forced open, tongues met, and both panted wet and hot into the kiss, and there was a bright pleasure-spark of pain as Fili’s teeth accidentally grazed his lip.
As quickly as he had lunged forward, Fili pulled away, resting their foreheads together. “I was afraid I may have misunderstood you that night. I’m older, I can’t pressure you, you would do things you didn’t want to just to please me…”
Kili leaned forward with a growl, nipping at Fili’s lips to silence him. “Don’t listen to that,” he murmured, allowing their lips to brush as he spoke. “People have always said that, and you shouldn’t listen to a word of it. You wouldn’t do that, not ever, and I know it.”
He was fumbling at Fili’s clothes now, yanking at them, frantic to have his brother undressed. Fili responded with a growl of his own, and Kili whined as he was hauled into a seated position on the edge of the bed by a firm grip on his hair. Then Fili was straddling him, kneeling with a leg on either side of his hips, and Kili threw his head back with a groan as they slotted together so perfectly.
Fili was rutting against him, biting at his neck, jawline, and ear. Kili grabbed his brother’s hips, pulling him in with a grip tight enough to bruise, then reaching up to tug at Fili’s still-loose hair. This had the opposite effect to the one he was expecting, and Fili pulled away firmly.
“We have to stop,” he panted, dodging Kili’s attempts to recapture his mouth. “I can’t…I can’t take advantage of you.”
Ah. That was the problem. Kili wrapped his arms firmly around his brother’s waist, lifting him and flipping around to drop him back onto the bed, leaning down to pin the older dwarf’s wrists over his head, eager to prove how not innocent he was.
“Mother will be in here in a minute.” Fili’s protest was interrupted by a loud moan, and from the way his hips were rolling against him Kili could tell it was halfhearted at best.
“You worry too much,” he said, shoving Fili more firmly into the mattress and going to work on his neck.
“You don’t worry enough.”
Kili grinned, moving up to kiss him again. “No such thing. We just have to be fast.” Fili groaned in protest, arching against him. “Mother will be in here soon, and I’ve waited too long for this to leave it for another day.” He set about divesting his brother of the rest of his clothes, Fili’s hands eagerly helping.
***
Thorin was the first to discover his nephews' new relationship, only a week or so later. He’d gone in search of them when they didn’t show up in the forge at the expected time. Their mother pointed him to the rooms used for weaponry practice, and sure enough he could hear their voices from behind one heavy closed door.
He smiled to himself at the clanging, thumps, yelps, and giggles. Probably sparring with swords then, since most of the small sounds of pain were coming from Kili. There was a particularly loud thud, an exceptionally shrill yelp, and then no more clattering of the blades. Doubtless Kili had managed to do damage to himself somehow, since Fili would never have drawn that sound out of his brother.
Thorin opened the door, about to summon his nephews to his forge. Of all the possible sights that could have greeted him, this was perhaps the one he expected least.
The practice swords lay forgotten on the floor, clearly abandoned as more interesting things arose. Fili was straddling his brother, grinding their hips together in a distinctly erotic way, pressing openmouthed kisses to the neck of a squirming, giggling Kili.
Thorin stared at them, struck speechless, knowing there was no way to mistake this for anything but what it was. Kili twisted, trying halfheartedly to free pinned wrists, and caught sight of Thorin in the doorway. Fili glanced up when his brother’s body went tense and rigid, and froze as well. Thorin watched as Kili’s face went bright red, while all the color drained from Fili’s.
Well. He’d known he was going to have this conversation with one or both of the brother’s eventually, but this exact circumstance hadn’t even crossed his mind. He cleared his throat, felt his own cheeks reddening a bit, and said “Fili. A word outside, if you please. Kili, stay.”
Fili scrambled off his brother, straightening his clothes hurriedly, now so pale that his lips had a greyish tinge. Kili rolled to sit up on the floor, cross-legged and hands folded in his lap. He tugged gently at the braid on the right side of his brother’s mouth, and Fili shot him a thin smile.
Kili watched as his uncle and brother left, Thorin pulling the door nearly shut behind them. It was several minutes before they returned, giving him plenty of time to wonder what was going to happen now. The whispers would get worse, the accusing looks and disgusted comments would increase, and he felt sick to his stomach at the thought.
Because for some reason those people always assumed that Fili was somehow corrupting him, hurting him. That couldn’t be farther from the truth, as Kili had discovered over the last few days. Fili was just as experienced as his younger brother, but he was absolutely terrified of taking advantage of Kili. Not to mention the extreme vulnerability that he would only show to his trusted brother. He worried constantly about his worthiness as the heir of Durin, and Kili was proud of the fact that he could make his brother forget about that, if only for a few short hours at night. But if the other dwarves ruined that for him, tainted their lovemaking with guilt…
Kili took a deep, shuddering breath. Fili couldn’t seem to accept that his brother needed him desperately, and clung to Kili as though any day he expected to be left alone. Kili groaned as something else occurred to him. What if Thorin sent Fili or Kili away? What would he do without his brother? Fili was always there to keep him from doing anything really stupid, keeping him grounded and his reckless nature under control. He stuffed a knuckle in his mouth, biting down to push away the whimper that threatened to escape him, dread washing through his body.
The door opened, and Fili slipped back in. His face had a greenish hue under the white, and he half-ran over to Kili, skidding the last meter on his knees to embrace his younger brother with desperation. Kili’s arms went around his shoulders, pressing their foreheads together and letting out a long breath.
“It’s okay,” Fili whispered. “He isn’t going to do anything or tell anyone.”
Kili let out a relieved sigh of his own, pulling Fili in for a slow, sweet kiss. “What did he say, then?” he asked. Fili took a deep breath and began speaking in a way that suggested he’d just carefully memorized the words.
“He said that, while dwarves are certainly more, ah, romantically active than the other races may think, we still are very possessive, jealous even, when we find the one that we will spend the rest of our lives with. Thorin’s words were ‘we love each other the same way we love the gems and precious metals we mine and smelt. It is deep, fierce, possessive, and lasts as long as we live, and when you find that love you will never feel even a spark for another dwarf.’” Fili looked a little embarrassed at the rather flowery language, though Kili felt a pleasurable shiver go through his body as he listened.
“Anyway, he said we couldn’t choose who our ‘one’ is, and most never find them. And that,” his ears went a bit red, “that if ours is simple bed games then we must stop it now before our reputations are ruined. And if it’s not,” he cleared his throat, refusing to meet Kili’s eyes. “If not, we need to keep it secret. Not everyone will accept it, though he says we ought to just count ourselves lucky that we found each other.”
He looked at Kili now, and there was a hint of desperate hope in his eyes that made Kili’s heart leap into his throat.
He can’t possibly…he does. Me! I’m…I’m not even a proper dwarf!
But when he stopped for a moment to examine his own feelings he received another shock. The young warriors and hunters he had at least been able to rouse some interest in before meant absolutely nothing to him now. And when he looked up into Fili’s face, pictured him kissing, touching, bedding anyone else he felt a cold, dark rage well inside him, unlike anything he had ever felt before.
And with a groan of relief and terror and shock he hauled his brother in by the hair for an openmouthed kiss.
“Mine,” he growled into Fili’s mouth, and the older dwarf tilted his head back in perfect submission.
“Yours.”
***
They were much more careful after that, and over the next decade they were fairly certain that no one else found them out. Their mother knew, of course, that was clear, though they couldn’t tell if she had figured it out herself or Thorin had told her.
Thorin himself left on some kind of venture soon after the incident, and they neither saw now heard from him for nearly ten years. Feeling giddy and silly one night as he undid and rebraided Fili’s hair, Kili asked jokingly if Thorin had ever found his ‘one’. Fili had pursed his lips thoughtfully, clearly taking the question much more seriously than his brother had meant it.
“I almost think that he has, but the closest he has to a ‘one’ is Erebor itself. Thorin’s entire life has been devoted to retaking the kingdom. Even teaching and training us was because he wants us to eventually aid him in that quest.”
Kili chuckled, dropping a finished plait and starting on the lock beside it. “Imagine, your ‘one’ being a mountain. No conversations, no kisses, no—“ he made progressively lewder comments until Fili laughed, yanking at his still unbound dark hair to make him stop.
Almost ten years to the day since he had left, Thorin returned, more haggard looking than ever before, with rage burning behind his blue eyes. Fili and Kili gathered that he had gone seeking a company of warriors to retake their ancient kingdom and the results had been…disappointing, to say the least. Fili attached himself to his uncle’s invisible wake, trailing him through the settlement, with Kili as always never far behind.
They knew that the next time Thorin left these halls, for good or ill he would not be returning. And that they, as his heirs in the line of Durin, would accompany him. Or rather, Fili would be coming as his heir, and Kili because you could never have one brother without the other. And the brothers would stand behind Thorin, with the occasional tussle or stabilizing tug at each other’s hair, and would follow him to the end.
Whatever that end may be.