Work Text:
Kili watched in helpless horror as the guards beat the peasant boy to death in the alleyway.
His feet were rooted to the spot. He was unable to intervene.
There were too many of them. Six fully-grown men clad in armor, armed with steel that could cleave a weaponless, sixty-year old dwarf lad in two like a hot knife through a lump of butter. They left the swords in their sheaths as they beat the screaming boy with their fists and boots, but the end result was the same. Just slower.
It was brutality carried out in the name of justice. The crime of a stolen loaf of bread to fill a hungry mouth was punished with a beating so bloody that the boy would be crippled for life if he survived the assault. But the boy was thin, stunted. A lad who had lived a life in starvation and who had wanted nothing more than to cling to existence. His sense of entitlement to keep his own life had led him into the petty theft that now resulted in the very end he had sought to avoid - death.
As much as Kili had wanted to help him live, there was nothing he could have done to save the lad from his fate.
When the boy’s cries went quiet, the only sounds Kili could hear were the wet thud of boots on already shattered bones and the rushing of his own pulse in his ears. Then laughter. The cruel words whose meaning he hadn’t caught because he was too fixated on the gruesome and violent end of innocence at the hands of the people meant to protect it.
Only after the lad had stopped moving did the guards finally tire of their sport. One gave a final lackluster kick to what had once been the boy’s freckled face. Then they were finished. Then they disappeared down the alleyway, back the way they had come.
When they had finally gone, Kili slipped out of his hiding spot behind the back steps of the tavern. He skidded across the blood-slicked cobblestones and crashed to his knees beside the dying boy.
His hands trembled and he feared to touch the Man child, for he knew that moving a broken body might push the soul into its final resting place. Quite unintentionally, he could snuff out life in the misguided hope of saving it. But this boy was far too gone for help now. Everything was shattered. Everything bloodied. His fluids leaked out of him and disappeared down the drain some paces away. Kili’s eyes burned with tears as he reached for the boy’s hand. He intertwined his fingers with the pale, slender digits of the boy, and squeezed gently as the boy’s pulse in his wrist grew weaker.
“I’m sorry,” Kili whispered. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.”
He bowed his head and began to weep with his forehead pressed to the boy’s chest. The lad gave a last, gurgled breath. Then his chest went still. And finally, the heart stopped beating.
------
When he heard the door open behind him, he turned, expecting his brother’s return. Kili didn’t look at him as he kicked his way out of his muddied boots.
“Ah good, Kee,” he stood. “Have you brought the spices Mum requested? You can put them directly into the pot.”
It took a moment for Kili to register that his brother was actually speaking words. He looked over from his place at the door, then he stared at his empty hands. Then back at Fili.
“No bread, Kee? Or the spices?” Fili drew in a long, slow breath. “What were you doing with your time, if not shopping?”
“I...” Kili swallowed. He found it hard to move the leaden lump that had replaced his tongue. “I must have forgotten,” he finally said lamely. “I’m sorry.”
It was then that Fili noticed that one of his brother’s trembling hands was stained with what appeared to be scrubbed-off blood.
“Kili?” he approached him, reaching for the extremity, concerned. “Are you hurt, nadad?” He took the reddened hand in both of his own, turning it over to examine more closely. Kili wasn’t injured. “What happened at market?”
At his brother’s touch, Kili drew his hand away as if burnt. Then he shoved past Fili and stormed off through the kitchen towards the hall.
He was so close to losing control of his welling tears, and he couldn’t bear the thought of breaking down in the kitchen. If he did, Uncle Thorin might see him crying. Or Mother might be angry that he’d failed in such a simple task as buying spices. Or a loaf of bread that cost as much as a human life.
Kili couldn’t bear the thought of them seeing his weakness or his failures.
But even as he took off running through the hall for the room he shared with Fili, he suddenly regretted not taking his brother’s kindness. Sometimes that was the only shred of decency in a world so full of pain.
Fili watched with a frown as Kili bolted from the kitchen. But Mother’s instructions were still ringing in his ears, so Fili swept the vegetables into the boiling pot to join the venison. They’d have to make do without extra flavoring tonight.
Wiping his hands on a cloth, he set his jaw in determination and followed his brother down the hall to their bedroom. It wasn’t unusual for Kili to get into a tussle. He was a bit hot-headed from time to time. Uncle had tasked Fili with keeping an eye on his younger brother and Fili took that responsibility seriously.
“Brother?” he called, knocking first, for politeness sake. “Kili?”
After making it into the bedroom, Kili had crashed into the double bed and he’d drawn closed the curtains behind him, shrouding himself in the darkness. He hadn’t been able to stem the tears that had followed him into the shadow, and now, at the sound of Fili’s soft voice through the bedroom door, he knew that it didn’t matter anymore.
Fili had seen him in a moment of fragility. And when Fili noticed such moments, as he so very often did, he never let them go without first trying to bring Kili out of them.
Kili hadn’t locked the door, so Fili finally opted to enter. He found his sibling curled up on his side, weeping openly and hugging a pillow to his chest. Fili fell to his knees at the side of the bed. “Kee,” he asked gently, stroking his brother’s unruly hair away from his face. “What happened to you today?” He tried to catch Kili’s eye.
At the comforting touch of Fili’s hand upon his temple, Kili gave a low moan and buried his face in his brother’s shirt above his strong shoulder. There he descended into hitching sobs. In Fili’s arms and in the secluded sanctuary of their bedroom, he did not need to fear. There was never any judgement or ridicule or chastisement for Kili’s possession of too tender a heart for dwarves.
Fili didn’t hesitate. At the first pull of his brother’s arms, he climbed from the floor into bed next to Kili and embraced him tightly, hoping to soothe away whatever was troubling him. He caressed Kili’s face with one hand, wiping away tears with his thumb. He lay a soft kiss to Kili’s forehead.
“Dear Kee,” he breathed. “What has you in such a state?”
“I saw something,” Kili whispered. He sniffled heavily and wiped his big hand across his eyes. Then he finally met Fili’s kind, inquisitive gaze. “I saw something so terrible. I don’t know what to do. Oh, Fili...”
He trailed off as more hot tears poured from his eyes and down his face into his dwarfling stubble. He didn’t know what to say. There was no easy way to tell anyone, not even Fili, that he’d seen a helpless boy get murdered.
Fili pulled his brother’s head to his chest and held him tightly. “I’m sure it was horrible,” Fili agreed with him. “I should have been with you. D’you want to talk about it?” he wondered, rubbing soothing circles on Kili’s upper back with one warm hand.
“I don’t know,” Kili admitted. “Maybe. But right now, I just want a hug.”
Fili swept the hand that had been in his brother’ hair down his flank to his waist and drew Kili more tightly against him, rocking a bit, trying to calm him as he’d done when Kili had been a wee dwarfling and had become inconsolable. But his brother was far from a dwarfling now, he noted, burying his face in the depths of Kili’s raven tresses and taking a long, deep breath, willing Kili to breathe with him. “I’m so sorry, nadadith,” he apologized, “for whatever pains you. I would take it away if I could.”
Kili sniffled and shook his head against Fili.
“No,” he said sadly. “There’s no changing what happened. There never is.”
He pulled away enough so that he could look his brother in the eye once more. Fili’s blue eyes shone with caring, but also the knowledge that with age came the inevitable end of running from the truth. So despite his aching sadness, Kili wiped away his tears again and told Fili exactly what had happened.
“He was my age,” Kili murmured once he’d revealed the gruesomeness. “Or - well, you know what I mean. He was young, like you and me. They killed him for stealing bread.”
“Oh, Kee!” Fili exclaimed, laying his forehead against his brother’s. “That must have been terrifying. And I know you. You wanted to try to help him. Brother, I’m so glad you didn’t. You too would have been killed.” He sniffled. “I would die if I lost you,” he confessed.
“I don’t know, would I have been killed?” Kili frowned. “I know how to fight.”
“You against six Men?” Fili smiled gently. “You are a gifted fighter, indeed, brother, but those odds would not have been in your favor. There was nothing you could have done to save that boy.”
“I’ve been playing at swords for longer than those guards have been alive,” Kili spat bitterly. “You’d think I’d have had the courage to stick up for what was right. But I was scared. I was so scared, Brother!” He gave another moan and hid his tears behind his palms.
“You were cautious, not a coward,” Fili tried to console him. “A wise warrior chooses his battles. Those Men were out for blood, Kili.” Fili pulled his brother’s hands from his face. “You are no coward, brave brother,” he leaned in to kiss his forehead again, then both cheeks, with just the barest of touches. “You are I are so privileged, and fortunate, to have the family we do. That boy was not so lucky. If only he’d had a brother like you.” Fili kissed Kili on the mouth. “To look after him.”
Kili felt a little better with the tender brush of Fili’s soft lips upon his features. But still, he couldn’t shake the deep sense of unfairness that had made him a prince, that other boy a pauper, and the way that even he, Prince Kili, could not have saved an innocent life.
“I wish things were different,” he said at last. “I wish more people loved each other like you love me.”
“There’s plenty of love around us, Kee,” Fili told him. “That boy--he was probably stealing that bread out of love. Maybe to take home for a sick little sister...”
Kili gave a loud howl of misery. That hadn’t helped. If anything, it made it worse. He’d seen the loaf of bread lying in a pool of blood and shit and the rest of the filth of the city streets, wasted like the lives it might have saved.
“Men are so cruel!” he lamented. “How can they justify their violence towards their own people? I hate Men!”
“When I am king, no one in Erebor will want for nourishment or care... from the wealthiest to the least of the dwarrow,” Fili assured him. “I shall make you my advisor, and you will spend your days making sure everyone is content,” he twirled a tendril of Kili’s dark hair around his fingers. “You know, you sounded like Uncle just now.”
Kili blinked at that, startled for a moment out of his despair.
“I... I did? Really?”
“We can’t judge an entire race on the actions of a rare few,” Fili admonished gently. “Those Men were probably following orders themselves. And do you really think all those elves wished not to help our people when Thranduil bid them stand down?”
Kili frowned. He suddenly felt so ashamed for being as spiteful as he had been a moment ago.
“We are in a position to make a difference,” Fili told him. “You and me. We aren’t yet in a position of power, but we will be--some day. We would be remiss on our duties if we didn’t learn lessons along the way.” He caressed Kili’s jawline.
“I wish those lessons didn’t have to hurt so badly,” Kili murmured. He pulled Fili closer and cherished the warmth of his brother’s comforting touch. “But it always seems like the biggest lessons are the ones that hurt the most.”
Fili nodded in agreement, holding him more tightly. “Aye, brother. And something tells me there are harder lessons ahead for us. Are you ready for them?”
Kili didn’t answer that. He chewed on his lip and combed his fingers through Fili’s gold-spun hair and he touched the beard on Fili’s chin and the braided moustache upon his brother’s lip.
Fili wasn’t that much older than Kili. Just five years, insignificant for their kind. But Fili seemed so much more ready for the cruelties of the world, so much steadier in his actions and his decisions. Not a rash and childish and beardless second brother who was nothing but a disappointment to their family and their heritage.
Fili watched the emotions play over Kili’s face like a kaleidoscope. “I know what you’re thinking,” Fili said, voice hoarse. “You’re thinking I’m brave and full of confidence. But the truth is, I have that confidence because I have you. I know you are always at my back, ready to catch me if I make a mistake. My certainty comes from knowing I will not rule alone.”
Despit himself, Kili’s stopped crying at that. Though Fili would one day be King -- a monarch, the singular leader of their kind -- there did seem to be some truth to what Fili was now saying.
A king did not rule alone, not even Uncle Thorin. He’d gotten lucky, and had been skilled at the forge and diligent in his duties. But if it had not for the willingness of his people to believe in Thorin’s leadership, he would be just as powerless as the lowliest of dwarvish peasants. He might have had to resort to stealing bread just to keep on living another day.
But Fili, it seemed, recognized that a king’s power came at the behest of his people. A king needed his people. He ruled at the leisure of his people and for his people. Though Kili was Fili’s brother, he would one day be Fili’s subject, and he could not help but think that there was no more benevolent a leader than the king whom Fili would become.
“You’re right, Fee. ” Kili pressed a kiss to Fili’s lips and sniffled back the last of his tears. Then he found that his was smiling. It helped to dispel the remaining sadness within his oversized heart. “You’ll be a leader. You’ll need to take care of those who are defenseless. Please, brother. Be a good king. I know you can be. Please don’t use your power for evil.”
“Never, Kili,” Fili promised him. “I would never do that. Especially with you by my side.” He put a confident hand on Kili’s shoulder. “I simply cannot do it without you, Brother.”
“You promise we’ll be together forever?”
Kili slid his foot between Fili’s calves and intertwined his fingers with his brother’s. Their hands fit perfectly together, one the other’s complement, one the light to the other’s shadow, one the joy to the other’s grief. The one could not exist without the other, and they completed each other.
“You don’t get it, do you?” Fili chuckled. “I mean to have you as my...” he blushed. “As my partner.”
Kili gave a soft exhale as Fili explained it to him.
“Oh,” was all that he could think to say. He could be so dense sometimes. “I hadn’t thought of it like that. But now that you say it...” Kili trailed off as he felt the flush of warmth rising in his cheeks.
The thought was a kind one, a beautiful one. And why shouldn’t it be so? After all, they were so right for one another. It only made perfect sense.
“I think about it much more often than I should,” Fili confessed. “Your happiness is my first thought each morning. I have lived for you for so very long. I don’t wish to stop, Brother. I love you, Kee.”
“Really?” Kili burst into a grin and he kissed Fili hard upon the mouth. It was such a familiar sensation and one that was so very needed after a bout of sorrow. But when he parted his lips, yearning to deepen the kiss, Fili pulled away.
“You must swear to me that you will always be the tempestuous, tender-hearted pain in my hind quarters that you are today,” Fili eyed him solemnly . “Swear it, Kee.”
“I swear it,” Kili said immediately. “Though I don’t think I could be any different than I am, Fili. I don’t think I could be even if I tried.”
“I know,” Fili grinned. “I just wanted to hear you say it.”
At that, Kili gave an offended scoff. He punched Fili hard in the shoulder.
“You did that on purpose!” Then he clambered onto Fili and straddled him, pinning him down against the mattress. He scowled at Fili, who still wore that same knowing, loving grin. “It’s a good thing I love you too, otherwise I’d tickle the tar out of you and then do all sorts of naughty things until you begged me for mercy!”
Then before Fili could respond, he kissed his brother again. This time, he passionately pushed his way into Fili’s mouth with his tongue, not letting Fili’s mouth get the better of him again.
Suddenly, a deep voice boomed from downstairs, “Why is the stew burning? Kili? Fili?!”
Kili startled at the angry sound and he looked with horror at the bedroom door. Then he turned back at his brother.
“Oh, Fili,” he said gravely. “You didn’t!”
“Ah, drat!” Fili sat up quickly. “Mum’s going to flay me alive.”
Kili scrambled off his brother. He quickly leapt out of the bed and smoothed the rumples in his clothing as the angry thud of boots in the hallway grew closer. Fili was still half in the bed when the bedroom door slammed open and Uncle Thorin stormed into the room, deep scowl etched between his brows.
“What are you lads doing?” Thorin bellowed. “You’re supposed to be watching the stew, not shirking your duties to your family!”
“It’s my fault,” Kili covered quickly. “I... well...”
He dropped his eyes to the floor. Then he had a sudden idea. He quickly turned and pushed Fili back down onto the mattress and fixed him with a glare that said, Play along or I’ll gut you! When the flicker of understanding passed near imperceptibly through Fili’s eyes, Kili turned back to their uncle and put on his best liar’s face.
“I found something in the market that I found so curious that I... well, sadly, forgot about the spices and the bread. And then I ran home because I had to tell Fili, see. And when I got inside, I was running so quickly that I didn’t see Fili at the cauldron, and he didn’t see me before I crashed into him.” Kili shook his head with deep concern. “He has a hard time keeping his footing when he’s startled, and though I didn’t mean to, I knocked him over. And now he’s got this frightful bump on the back of his head. Oh, it’s terrible, Uncle. I don’t think he should get up.”
Thorin gave a low growl and narrowed his eyes suspiciously as Kili finished. But then, he gave a slow nod and chastised, “Kili, don’t run in the house. And Fili, learn to watch your surroundings.”
Then he turned his back on the two and as he departed, he hollered over his shoulder, “That doesn’t mean you’re not responsible for the stew tasting like a fire pit, Kili! Now, get out here! Come and eat the garbage that you’ve made of our supper.”
Kili glanced back at Fili, then tossed his head towards the door.
“Don’t look at me,” Fili shrugged innocently. “I’m to stay in bed.” He chuckled warmly. “Oh, Kili, you do have a mind for politics--at least when it comes to putting a spin on a situation.”
“I guess you do need me,” Kili grinned. He kissed Fili’s lips one last time before darting to the door. Then he looked back, gave Fili a beaming grin, and said, “It’s a good thing I need you, too. Otherwise, we’d be in a world of hurt.”
And with that, Kili bounded off down the hall after Uncle Thorin, hopeful once more for the future.