[Fic] what has passed, and what will be
Fandom: The Hobbit
Characters: Thorin, Fili, Kili, Bilbo, Thorin's company, Gandalf, Azog
Pairing: Thorin/Fili/Kili
Rating: PG-13
Word count: c.4000
Warnings: Canon major character death.
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine.
A/N: For the trope bingo prompt: "time travel".
***
Thorin whispers stories to Fili and Kili as they grow up, when the boys’ parents aren’t around, stories that they mustn’t tell to anyone else. The boys nod, wide-eyed and eager to hear the tales of brave adventurers, of the reclaiming of dwarf kingdoms and the smiting of orcs and dragons, stories that they won’t live to see themselves. The stories come from a book that Thorin keeps secret from everyone else, and Fili and Kili solemnly give their word that they will tell no one of these stories that he tells them, an oath that they keep from childhood til the very end.
The one story that Thorin never tells them nor anyone else is how he came by the book. It is leather-bound, cover dyed blue, beautiful but sturdy, and when it is given to him, Thorin himself scarcely believes what is happening.
He thinks it is a dream, or some conjured illusion, or even madness from the grief of losing his father to Azog’s blade not three days past when Balin appears to him one evening. It is not the Balin that Thorin knows now, but an older version of him, with pure white hair and a rounder stomach, but with that twinkle in his eye that is undeniably him, despite the seeming absurdity of his words, a twisted tale of strange magic and travels back from days yet to come.
“Prove to me what you say is true,” Thorin demands, and Balin smiles at him, fond and a little sad. “And explain how you came about here.”
“We had the help of a wizard. Gandalf the Grey.” Thorin knows the name well enough, from what his father and grandfather have told him, though not the man himself. Balin says that all the proof he needs is in the book, and tells him something from their past that only the two of them would know. It’s a story of the briefest of moments, one that neither will ever tell another soul. This is his friend for sure, and no matter how ridiculous the matter of travelling from the future to the past may seem, Thorin knows and trusts Balin.
“The rest is in there,” Balin says, indicating the book. “But I have little time left. This is important - you must never tell any other about this, or about the book.”
“Why not?”
“This is of the utmost importance, Thorin,” Balin stresses. “You cannot divert the flow of time, or else danger will fall upon everyone. Fate cannot be changed, no matter how much we wish it so.” A look of deep sadness flashes across his face and his eyes are serious, and Thorin nods.
“I understand,” he says.
Balin hesitates. “You must not let anyone else read the book. Remember that. But some of it...tell your sister-sons. They deserve the best of those stories, the ones that they will never hear of otherwise.” Balin smiles, though Thorin can still see the sadness in the lines of his face. “It it so very, very wonderful to see you again, Thorin.”
Thorin opens his mouth to ask Balin to make sense of the things he has said, but in the same moment, he disappears.
For a while, Thorin is still suspicious, and still thinks that perhaps he may have dreamed the entire exchange, but the book is there, solid in his hands. He doesn’t dare to open it for a few days, so it sits hidden in his room until he decides that if what Balin had said is true, he may need to see this contents of the book.
When he’s alone in his room one night, sure that he will not be disturbed, he carefully opens the book. The first thing he sees is a pocket with a few loose pages inside. They’re portrait drawings, Thorin realizes as he as draws them out. One is unmistakably a depiction of himself, but older, looking a little more worn, with streaks of grey in his hair. He finds drawings of numerous other dwarves, some of whom he already recognizes, and some that he does not. Along with them, one picture that he is drawn to in particular: a sketch of two young dwarves, one dark-haired and the other fair, arms thrown about each other’s shoulders. And lastly, someone not dwarf nor elf, no beard but with pointed ears and curly hair, and Thorin can only wonder who this little Halfling is.
The entries in the book are all written in the same neat, precise hand, one that Thorin does not recognize now, but will years later know as Ori’s. The first few are things from his past that he remembers, and soon he realizes that although written by the same hand, not all the words are just one person’s. He recognizes Balin’s voice in the some of them, his talent for storytelling evident in the words of the tales that he had lived through as well.
When Thorin reaches an entry that speaks of events that Thorin does not know, it becomes apparent that if Balin was speaking the truth, then this is something that is yet to come to pass, and Thorin closes the book and hides it away once more.
There must be a reason for this book to have come to him, but Balin did not say and Thorin does not know what it is, but he knows how dangerous knowledge of the future can be, and how strong the temptation to tamper with time can be. So when Thorin opens the book once more a few nights later, he does so because he cannot ignore that it was given to him for some purpose, even though he does not know what it is, but he resolves to progress through the book slowly and to keep Balin’s warnings in mind.
Soon enough, he finds Balin’s words to be true, and Thorin sees the events of that first unfamiliar entry unfold, insignificant but for the proof it provides of Balin’s claims. Knowing now that the book contains knowledge of the future, Thorin takes extra precautions to keep it safe and secret. For years, he keeps it from everyone, never mentioning it or letting anyone catch a glimpse. And all the while he works through it slowly, reading about these future events and still wondering why the book came to him, and what he is supposed to do with this knowledge.
When Dis falls pregnant, Thorin knows that the child will grow into a strong young dwarf, enthusiastic and loyal and hopelessly devoted to his younger brother when he is born five years later. Thorin says nothing of this to Dis, but it happens just as he knows it will, and Thorin watches them grow up, the closest of brothers.
Remembering Balin’s words, Thorin never shows his nephews the book either, but does tell them stories from it as they sit and listen, rapt. Balin had not told him of their futures, but Thorin knows from his tone and from what he has read in the book that there is tragedy ahead. He takes Balin’s suggestion to heart, telling the boys stories from his past, the great battles of the dwarves and their triumphs.
Not all his stories come from the book, though. Some come from his heart, when he speaks of the beautiful halls of Erebor, the kingdom under the mountain where he himself grew up, and once hoped to rule over himself. The home that was lost, that Thorin still yearns for now.
“Will you take Erebor back?” a young Kili asks, squirming with excitement where he sits next to his brother.
“We shall help you fight the dragon and the orcs!” Fili declares. Kili cheers his agreement and when he tugs on Fili’s hair cheekily, they play wrestle for a few moments, laughing.
“We will,” Thorin says, when they’ve settled down again. “The time will come when she is ready to welcome us home again, and we shall return to her.”
He knows this already, knows that twelve dwarves will come with him, that there are twelve brave and loyal and honourable enough to accompany him, and among them, the youngest of them all, are his nephews.
The book’s entries are chronological, but they’re scattered stories, glimpses of the future with wide gaps between, and Thorin is forced to read between the lines, to go blind through life at times, and at others expect what is to come. There are illustrations that accompany some of the entries, depictions of battles or encounters with curious folk, or just simple nights around a campfire with friends. Thorin finds himself drawn to one of these illustrations in particular - of himself and Fili and Kili, braiding each other’s hair. It is a long-standing custom between them, since he first taught them when they were young, a sign of their closeness. But this seems strangely intimate; there is a warmth in their eyes that goes deeper than the bond between nephews and uncle.
It scares Thorin more than any dragon could.
He watches as Fili and Kili grow even closer, brothers and best friends. They were almost inseparable even as children, the strongest of bonds between them, but as they mature, it grows into something more. Thorin knows that he should speak to them of it, to end it -- such relationships are not unheard of, but are not widely accepted, and though they do not flaunt it, they are heirs of the line of Durin. But Thorin sees how they only love one another more and more each day, and cannot bear to end this happiness that they have found.
What frightens him is his own longing to be a part of it, to have them look at him with that love in their eyes too. And sometimes he thinks that they do, when they are standing together and glance towards him, but he does not dare let those thoughts linger for long. But he is helpless to resist fate, and knows that is inevitable that he will give in to it.
It happens when the three of them are out hunting together -- already they are both skilled with a blade, and Kili has an unusual talent with a bow, and when they bring down an impressive stag together, Thorin tells them so. Kili grins and in his excitement, he first kisses Fili and then, when Thorin looks away, reaches up to him and kisses him also.
Thorin freezes, and Kili draws away, looking panicked and hurt, having acted on impulse but somehow not expected rejection. Fili puts a hand on Thorin’s shoulder and takes Kili’s hand with his other.
“We have seen the way you watch us,” Fili says softly. “Do you not feel the same as we?”
“It matters not,” Thorin says, and though he longs to give in, he cannot banish from his mind the thought that he is taking advantage, that they are too young. “I cannot.”
“You can,” Kili insists, and kisses him again, longer this time, and Thorin feels his resistance start to break. “You love us.”
“I do,” Thorin admits hoarsely. “Though I should not, in this way.”
“And we love you,” Fili says, kissing him as well. “And that is all that matters.”
Three months later, he asks them if they would be a part of his company to take back Erebor.
“Of course we will,” Fili says immediately.
“We would do whatever you asked of us,” Kili swears, and although Thorin knew that they would come, he cannot suppress neither the rush of pride or the shot of fear that he feels at their answers.
He knows how this quest ends. He knows how their line ends, but this is something that he must do, despite the consequences.
Thorin has taken them both to bed, and though the relationship must be kept a secret, he has only grown to love them even more and cannot help but feel that it is right. But still, the fate of his nephews is something that haunts him, and despite Balin’s warnings when the book was given to him so many years ago, he cannot bear the thought that he is the reason that they die so young. He arrives at the Shire with this on his mind, and he has been selfish enough.
When he meets Bilbo he recognizes him from the drawings in the book, and is afraid that he will be yet another person that he fails to protect. Thorin’s own pride and greed may be his downfall, but he cannot allow that to hurt those he cares about.
Everyone else is asleep when Fili and Kili try to take his hands and kiss him in front of the fireplace, but he turns away and tells them that it can’t go on. They think he’s joking at first, but he flinches away from their touches and offering no explanation, he leaves them standing side by side in the fading firelight.
In the morning, the two of them are quiet and subdued, and Bofur comments on their unusual demeanour. Fili shrugs it off, but the glance he sends Thorin’s way once Bofur has moved on is full of hurt and betrayal. Kili doesn’t look at Thorin at all, avoiding his gaze at all costs, trying to be stoic but unable to mask his emotions entirely.
Thorin wonders if they hate him for this. He hopes that they do, because then perhaps they won’t give up their own lives for his.
Before leaving, Thorin had hidden the book in one of Bag End’s little nooks, away from prying eyes. He has finished reading, and is unlikely to forget the forthcoming events, though he takes with him the drawing of Fili and Kili, beaming out at him from the page. He is certain that the book will be safe in Bag End until Bilbo returns. Perhaps when Thorin is gone, when Bilbo comes home at last, he will find it one day, and understand Thorin a little better.
He tries to keep Fili and Kili away, to shut them out, for their own sakes, but it is difficult when they are so near, and when they are in danger every day. His heart pounds in his chest when Kili leaps out fearlessly at the ogres, when Fili runs headfirst towards one of the wargs brandishing his sword - reckless, impulsive, brave, and stupid, and Thorin loves them.
In Rivendell, Thorin watches the rest of the company from afar, drinking and eating and laughing, Fili and Kili joining in, and he is glad that they can, even in this place that Thorin can hardly stand to be in. It reminds him how young they are, how free of the things that have weighed upon Thorin ever since Erebor was lost they are.
“You should talk to them,” Balin says, as he comes to stand beside Thorin. “They don’t know what they’ve done so wrong for you to treat them like this.”
“It is I who have wronged them,” Thorin mutters. “Not they.”
“But you haven’t told them that,” Balin reminds him in that soft but firm way of his. Their efforts to keep their relationship a secret were effective enough for the most part, but Balin has always had sharp eyes, and Thorin knows he must at least have some idea of what has happened. “You trust them in battle, but hardly speak to them otherwise.”
“It is necessary,” Thorin says roughly, as the laughter of the others floats through the otherwise quiet air of Rivendell. He turns away too soon; doesn’t see how Kili glances around for their uncle, forgetting for a moment what has happened between them, doesn’t see the way that Kili leans into Fili’s comforting touch when he remembers Thorin’s rejection of them.
He only wants them to live, to be able to know for themselves some of the stories that he had told them when they were just dwarflings. They deserve to live, not to waste their lives for his sake.
Then the thunder battle happens, and Thorin’s resolve has never been the strongest when it comes to his nephews, but it is when he sees them so in danger that he does break. He is filled with dread when he sees half the company crash into the rock wall, but it is Fili’s name that he shouts in horror, and hears Kili’s own panicked cry behind him. The relief when they find all the others alive is overwhelming, Fili groaning under the weight of the others piled on top of him, but otherwise unharmed. That night, when Kili and Fili drag their bedrolls to lie beside Thorin for the first time on their journey, he does not argue.
“Why?” is all Kili whispers to him in the dark, when the others are asleep, and Bofur on watch is too far away to hear.
Thorin takes a shuddering breath. “I am glad you are both safe.”
“What are you so afraid of?” That’s Fili, from Thorin’s other side. He reaches out hesitantly, putting a hand on Thorin’s shoulder, fingers brushing his neck, and Kili mirrors the movement.
“Only of losing you.”
Kili shuffles a little closer, moving his hand to link with Fili’s, where they rest with fingers entwined over Thorin’s chest. “You won’t lose us. Not ever.”
But Thorin will, he knows he will.
“We love you.”
“And I you.” He is a fool, he knows now, to have tried to deny this, to change fate when it would not be swayed. He has wasted precious time, but no more.
When they are cornered by Azog and the wargs, when Thorin realizes that this monster was not dead as he had believed, he cannot move. He is paralysed, clinging to his branch, and he hears gasps from around him, one of them from Fili, but he doesn’t look towards the other dwarves. He can only stare at Azog, who grins at him with gleeful depravity.
Thorin rushes through the flames towards the pale orc, and Kili shouts out to him, but he doesn’t turn back. The eagles are the ones to save them, to come and carry them away from the cliff and the fire, and Thorin is barely conscious. He cannot move or speak, but he remembers how Bilbo ran to his defense, and then Fili and Kili moments later, and now the only thing he knows is failure. He could not kill that monster all those years ago, nor today. He has failed to protect those that he should, that he loves, and all he hears before he passes out is Fili screaming his name.
He wakes to the sight of Gandalf leaning over to him, and though his immediate instinct is to reach for his nephews, he first asks after Bilbo, for he knows that he owes him apologies for his behaviour. He embraces the rather bewildered hobbit and intends to go to Fili and Kili after that, but then he catches sight of the mountain.
Erebor, he thinks, and words catch in his throat as he stares at the sight in the distance. It is still far to travel, and much to overcome, but close enough to see, and that is all Thorin needs for the moment. He glances behind him, to where all the others are staring towards the magnificent sight as well. Fili and Kili are wide-eyed and silent, and Thorin remembers that this is their first sight of Erebor. They have spent years hearing stories of Erebor, of their lost kingdom, and finally they are seeing it with their own eyes. Thorin closes his eyes briefly as he remembers that they will scarcely even know her before the end of their short lives, but he can no longer dwell on that.
This is Erebor that he can see, and if he is to fight until his death for her, then he will do so proudly, with honour and courage and love. And still he can hardly bear to think of Fili and Kili’s own deaths, but he cannot battle fate any longer, only enjoy what time he has left with them, and his company that now seems like family.
***
Bilbo goes home with stories he has lived in his head that he will never forget, love for his friends and grief for those that were lost in his heart, and the ring heavy in his pocket.
He goes home and the other hobbits stare at him when they see him, wondering what kind of troubles he’s gotten himself into on this adventure that he’d run off to, but Bilbo isn’t bothered by the whispers like he would have been before the quest. He has returned a changed hobbit indeed, but cannot bring himself to regret it, despite everything that he has seen. Gandalf stays for a while, having accompanied Bilbo back to the Shire, disappearing for some of the day but always returning in time for dinner. It is an odd experience, after their journey, to have Gandalf with him returning to this quiet life of a hobbit, but he appreciates Gandalf’s presence all the same.
It is strange, settling back into the comfort Bag End after so long on the road, camping out with his companions. Though he did miss it, he grows restless at times, often finding himself itching for things to do, even so soon after returning. Bilbo busies himself with cleaning, for dust has settled in his absence and a some small animals have made nests in empty corners.
He is surprised to find a large book in one of his cupboards, underneath a pile of blankets. Bilbo has certainly never seen it before, and old but beautiful thing, and he flicks through the pages carefully. One of the dwarves must have left it there, he realizes, as he reads stories about Erebor and great dwarf battles that he knows a little about from his companions. But he quickly becomes confused when he finds a drawing of himself in the book, one that looks like Ori’s work, though he’s sure that the dwarf would not have had a chance to complete such a thing in the short time that he was at Bag End, and not without Bilbo noticing.
Bilbo becomes even more concerned when he begins to read of their journey, for it is impossible that such an record would be here in his home, so soon after their quest was completed. As he continues, he finds himself reading an account of Thorin’s last moments, when he reconciled with Bilbo with his last dying breaths, but looked towards the still bodies of the brave, noble Fili and Kili in his final moments, with such love and grief in his eyes. Bilbo is astounded to find that they sound like his own words, and though he’s seen so many amazing, confounding things, he finds himself quite unable to make sense of any of this.
He’ll show Gandalf, he decides as he shuts the book, for the wizard is sure to know what to do with it.
Characters: Thorin, Fili, Kili, Bilbo, Thorin's company, Gandalf, Azog
Pairing: Thorin/Fili/Kili
Rating: PG-13
Word count: c.4000
Warnings: Canon major character death.
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine.
A/N: For the trope bingo prompt: "time travel".
***
Thorin whispers stories to Fili and Kili as they grow up, when the boys’ parents aren’t around, stories that they mustn’t tell to anyone else. The boys nod, wide-eyed and eager to hear the tales of brave adventurers, of the reclaiming of dwarf kingdoms and the smiting of orcs and dragons, stories that they won’t live to see themselves. The stories come from a book that Thorin keeps secret from everyone else, and Fili and Kili solemnly give their word that they will tell no one of these stories that he tells them, an oath that they keep from childhood til the very end.
The one story that Thorin never tells them nor anyone else is how he came by the book. It is leather-bound, cover dyed blue, beautiful but sturdy, and when it is given to him, Thorin himself scarcely believes what is happening.
He thinks it is a dream, or some conjured illusion, or even madness from the grief of losing his father to Azog’s blade not three days past when Balin appears to him one evening. It is not the Balin that Thorin knows now, but an older version of him, with pure white hair and a rounder stomach, but with that twinkle in his eye that is undeniably him, despite the seeming absurdity of his words, a twisted tale of strange magic and travels back from days yet to come.
“Prove to me what you say is true,” Thorin demands, and Balin smiles at him, fond and a little sad. “And explain how you came about here.”
“We had the help of a wizard. Gandalf the Grey.” Thorin knows the name well enough, from what his father and grandfather have told him, though not the man himself. Balin says that all the proof he needs is in the book, and tells him something from their past that only the two of them would know. It’s a story of the briefest of moments, one that neither will ever tell another soul. This is his friend for sure, and no matter how ridiculous the matter of travelling from the future to the past may seem, Thorin knows and trusts Balin.
“The rest is in there,” Balin says, indicating the book. “But I have little time left. This is important - you must never tell any other about this, or about the book.”
“Why not?”
“This is of the utmost importance, Thorin,” Balin stresses. “You cannot divert the flow of time, or else danger will fall upon everyone. Fate cannot be changed, no matter how much we wish it so.” A look of deep sadness flashes across his face and his eyes are serious, and Thorin nods.
“I understand,” he says.
Balin hesitates. “You must not let anyone else read the book. Remember that. But some of it...tell your sister-sons. They deserve the best of those stories, the ones that they will never hear of otherwise.” Balin smiles, though Thorin can still see the sadness in the lines of his face. “It it so very, very wonderful to see you again, Thorin.”
Thorin opens his mouth to ask Balin to make sense of the things he has said, but in the same moment, he disappears.
For a while, Thorin is still suspicious, and still thinks that perhaps he may have dreamed the entire exchange, but the book is there, solid in his hands. He doesn’t dare to open it for a few days, so it sits hidden in his room until he decides that if what Balin had said is true, he may need to see this contents of the book.
When he’s alone in his room one night, sure that he will not be disturbed, he carefully opens the book. The first thing he sees is a pocket with a few loose pages inside. They’re portrait drawings, Thorin realizes as he as draws them out. One is unmistakably a depiction of himself, but older, looking a little more worn, with streaks of grey in his hair. He finds drawings of numerous other dwarves, some of whom he already recognizes, and some that he does not. Along with them, one picture that he is drawn to in particular: a sketch of two young dwarves, one dark-haired and the other fair, arms thrown about each other’s shoulders. And lastly, someone not dwarf nor elf, no beard but with pointed ears and curly hair, and Thorin can only wonder who this little Halfling is.
The entries in the book are all written in the same neat, precise hand, one that Thorin does not recognize now, but will years later know as Ori’s. The first few are things from his past that he remembers, and soon he realizes that although written by the same hand, not all the words are just one person’s. He recognizes Balin’s voice in the some of them, his talent for storytelling evident in the words of the tales that he had lived through as well.
When Thorin reaches an entry that speaks of events that Thorin does not know, it becomes apparent that if Balin was speaking the truth, then this is something that is yet to come to pass, and Thorin closes the book and hides it away once more.
There must be a reason for this book to have come to him, but Balin did not say and Thorin does not know what it is, but he knows how dangerous knowledge of the future can be, and how strong the temptation to tamper with time can be. So when Thorin opens the book once more a few nights later, he does so because he cannot ignore that it was given to him for some purpose, even though he does not know what it is, but he resolves to progress through the book slowly and to keep Balin’s warnings in mind.
Soon enough, he finds Balin’s words to be true, and Thorin sees the events of that first unfamiliar entry unfold, insignificant but for the proof it provides of Balin’s claims. Knowing now that the book contains knowledge of the future, Thorin takes extra precautions to keep it safe and secret. For years, he keeps it from everyone, never mentioning it or letting anyone catch a glimpse. And all the while he works through it slowly, reading about these future events and still wondering why the book came to him, and what he is supposed to do with this knowledge.
When Dis falls pregnant, Thorin knows that the child will grow into a strong young dwarf, enthusiastic and loyal and hopelessly devoted to his younger brother when he is born five years later. Thorin says nothing of this to Dis, but it happens just as he knows it will, and Thorin watches them grow up, the closest of brothers.
Remembering Balin’s words, Thorin never shows his nephews the book either, but does tell them stories from it as they sit and listen, rapt. Balin had not told him of their futures, but Thorin knows from his tone and from what he has read in the book that there is tragedy ahead. He takes Balin’s suggestion to heart, telling the boys stories from his past, the great battles of the dwarves and their triumphs.
Not all his stories come from the book, though. Some come from his heart, when he speaks of the beautiful halls of Erebor, the kingdom under the mountain where he himself grew up, and once hoped to rule over himself. The home that was lost, that Thorin still yearns for now.
“Will you take Erebor back?” a young Kili asks, squirming with excitement where he sits next to his brother.
“We shall help you fight the dragon and the orcs!” Fili declares. Kili cheers his agreement and when he tugs on Fili’s hair cheekily, they play wrestle for a few moments, laughing.
“We will,” Thorin says, when they’ve settled down again. “The time will come when she is ready to welcome us home again, and we shall return to her.”
He knows this already, knows that twelve dwarves will come with him, that there are twelve brave and loyal and honourable enough to accompany him, and among them, the youngest of them all, are his nephews.
The book’s entries are chronological, but they’re scattered stories, glimpses of the future with wide gaps between, and Thorin is forced to read between the lines, to go blind through life at times, and at others expect what is to come. There are illustrations that accompany some of the entries, depictions of battles or encounters with curious folk, or just simple nights around a campfire with friends. Thorin finds himself drawn to one of these illustrations in particular - of himself and Fili and Kili, braiding each other’s hair. It is a long-standing custom between them, since he first taught them when they were young, a sign of their closeness. But this seems strangely intimate; there is a warmth in their eyes that goes deeper than the bond between nephews and uncle.
It scares Thorin more than any dragon could.
He watches as Fili and Kili grow even closer, brothers and best friends. They were almost inseparable even as children, the strongest of bonds between them, but as they mature, it grows into something more. Thorin knows that he should speak to them of it, to end it -- such relationships are not unheard of, but are not widely accepted, and though they do not flaunt it, they are heirs of the line of Durin. But Thorin sees how they only love one another more and more each day, and cannot bear to end this happiness that they have found.
What frightens him is his own longing to be a part of it, to have them look at him with that love in their eyes too. And sometimes he thinks that they do, when they are standing together and glance towards him, but he does not dare let those thoughts linger for long. But he is helpless to resist fate, and knows that is inevitable that he will give in to it.
It happens when the three of them are out hunting together -- already they are both skilled with a blade, and Kili has an unusual talent with a bow, and when they bring down an impressive stag together, Thorin tells them so. Kili grins and in his excitement, he first kisses Fili and then, when Thorin looks away, reaches up to him and kisses him also.
Thorin freezes, and Kili draws away, looking panicked and hurt, having acted on impulse but somehow not expected rejection. Fili puts a hand on Thorin’s shoulder and takes Kili’s hand with his other.
“We have seen the way you watch us,” Fili says softly. “Do you not feel the same as we?”
“It matters not,” Thorin says, and though he longs to give in, he cannot banish from his mind the thought that he is taking advantage, that they are too young. “I cannot.”
“You can,” Kili insists, and kisses him again, longer this time, and Thorin feels his resistance start to break. “You love us.”
“I do,” Thorin admits hoarsely. “Though I should not, in this way.”
“And we love you,” Fili says, kissing him as well. “And that is all that matters.”
Three months later, he asks them if they would be a part of his company to take back Erebor.
“Of course we will,” Fili says immediately.
“We would do whatever you asked of us,” Kili swears, and although Thorin knew that they would come, he cannot suppress neither the rush of pride or the shot of fear that he feels at their answers.
He knows how this quest ends. He knows how their line ends, but this is something that he must do, despite the consequences.
Thorin has taken them both to bed, and though the relationship must be kept a secret, he has only grown to love them even more and cannot help but feel that it is right. But still, the fate of his nephews is something that haunts him, and despite Balin’s warnings when the book was given to him so many years ago, he cannot bear the thought that he is the reason that they die so young. He arrives at the Shire with this on his mind, and he has been selfish enough.
When he meets Bilbo he recognizes him from the drawings in the book, and is afraid that he will be yet another person that he fails to protect. Thorin’s own pride and greed may be his downfall, but he cannot allow that to hurt those he cares about.
Everyone else is asleep when Fili and Kili try to take his hands and kiss him in front of the fireplace, but he turns away and tells them that it can’t go on. They think he’s joking at first, but he flinches away from their touches and offering no explanation, he leaves them standing side by side in the fading firelight.
In the morning, the two of them are quiet and subdued, and Bofur comments on their unusual demeanour. Fili shrugs it off, but the glance he sends Thorin’s way once Bofur has moved on is full of hurt and betrayal. Kili doesn’t look at Thorin at all, avoiding his gaze at all costs, trying to be stoic but unable to mask his emotions entirely.
Thorin wonders if they hate him for this. He hopes that they do, because then perhaps they won’t give up their own lives for his.
Before leaving, Thorin had hidden the book in one of Bag End’s little nooks, away from prying eyes. He has finished reading, and is unlikely to forget the forthcoming events, though he takes with him the drawing of Fili and Kili, beaming out at him from the page. He is certain that the book will be safe in Bag End until Bilbo returns. Perhaps when Thorin is gone, when Bilbo comes home at last, he will find it one day, and understand Thorin a little better.
He tries to keep Fili and Kili away, to shut them out, for their own sakes, but it is difficult when they are so near, and when they are in danger every day. His heart pounds in his chest when Kili leaps out fearlessly at the ogres, when Fili runs headfirst towards one of the wargs brandishing his sword - reckless, impulsive, brave, and stupid, and Thorin loves them.
In Rivendell, Thorin watches the rest of the company from afar, drinking and eating and laughing, Fili and Kili joining in, and he is glad that they can, even in this place that Thorin can hardly stand to be in. It reminds him how young they are, how free of the things that have weighed upon Thorin ever since Erebor was lost they are.
“You should talk to them,” Balin says, as he comes to stand beside Thorin. “They don’t know what they’ve done so wrong for you to treat them like this.”
“It is I who have wronged them,” Thorin mutters. “Not they.”
“But you haven’t told them that,” Balin reminds him in that soft but firm way of his. Their efforts to keep their relationship a secret were effective enough for the most part, but Balin has always had sharp eyes, and Thorin knows he must at least have some idea of what has happened. “You trust them in battle, but hardly speak to them otherwise.”
“It is necessary,” Thorin says roughly, as the laughter of the others floats through the otherwise quiet air of Rivendell. He turns away too soon; doesn’t see how Kili glances around for their uncle, forgetting for a moment what has happened between them, doesn’t see the way that Kili leans into Fili’s comforting touch when he remembers Thorin’s rejection of them.
He only wants them to live, to be able to know for themselves some of the stories that he had told them when they were just dwarflings. They deserve to live, not to waste their lives for his sake.
Then the thunder battle happens, and Thorin’s resolve has never been the strongest when it comes to his nephews, but it is when he sees them so in danger that he does break. He is filled with dread when he sees half the company crash into the rock wall, but it is Fili’s name that he shouts in horror, and hears Kili’s own panicked cry behind him. The relief when they find all the others alive is overwhelming, Fili groaning under the weight of the others piled on top of him, but otherwise unharmed. That night, when Kili and Fili drag their bedrolls to lie beside Thorin for the first time on their journey, he does not argue.
“Why?” is all Kili whispers to him in the dark, when the others are asleep, and Bofur on watch is too far away to hear.
Thorin takes a shuddering breath. “I am glad you are both safe.”
“What are you so afraid of?” That’s Fili, from Thorin’s other side. He reaches out hesitantly, putting a hand on Thorin’s shoulder, fingers brushing his neck, and Kili mirrors the movement.
“Only of losing you.”
Kili shuffles a little closer, moving his hand to link with Fili’s, where they rest with fingers entwined over Thorin’s chest. “You won’t lose us. Not ever.”
But Thorin will, he knows he will.
“We love you.”
“And I you.” He is a fool, he knows now, to have tried to deny this, to change fate when it would not be swayed. He has wasted precious time, but no more.
When they are cornered by Azog and the wargs, when Thorin realizes that this monster was not dead as he had believed, he cannot move. He is paralysed, clinging to his branch, and he hears gasps from around him, one of them from Fili, but he doesn’t look towards the other dwarves. He can only stare at Azog, who grins at him with gleeful depravity.
Thorin rushes through the flames towards the pale orc, and Kili shouts out to him, but he doesn’t turn back. The eagles are the ones to save them, to come and carry them away from the cliff and the fire, and Thorin is barely conscious. He cannot move or speak, but he remembers how Bilbo ran to his defense, and then Fili and Kili moments later, and now the only thing he knows is failure. He could not kill that monster all those years ago, nor today. He has failed to protect those that he should, that he loves, and all he hears before he passes out is Fili screaming his name.
He wakes to the sight of Gandalf leaning over to him, and though his immediate instinct is to reach for his nephews, he first asks after Bilbo, for he knows that he owes him apologies for his behaviour. He embraces the rather bewildered hobbit and intends to go to Fili and Kili after that, but then he catches sight of the mountain.
Erebor, he thinks, and words catch in his throat as he stares at the sight in the distance. It is still far to travel, and much to overcome, but close enough to see, and that is all Thorin needs for the moment. He glances behind him, to where all the others are staring towards the magnificent sight as well. Fili and Kili are wide-eyed and silent, and Thorin remembers that this is their first sight of Erebor. They have spent years hearing stories of Erebor, of their lost kingdom, and finally they are seeing it with their own eyes. Thorin closes his eyes briefly as he remembers that they will scarcely even know her before the end of their short lives, but he can no longer dwell on that.
This is Erebor that he can see, and if he is to fight until his death for her, then he will do so proudly, with honour and courage and love. And still he can hardly bear to think of Fili and Kili’s own deaths, but he cannot battle fate any longer, only enjoy what time he has left with them, and his company that now seems like family.
***
Bilbo goes home with stories he has lived in his head that he will never forget, love for his friends and grief for those that were lost in his heart, and the ring heavy in his pocket.
He goes home and the other hobbits stare at him when they see him, wondering what kind of troubles he’s gotten himself into on this adventure that he’d run off to, but Bilbo isn’t bothered by the whispers like he would have been before the quest. He has returned a changed hobbit indeed, but cannot bring himself to regret it, despite everything that he has seen. Gandalf stays for a while, having accompanied Bilbo back to the Shire, disappearing for some of the day but always returning in time for dinner. It is an odd experience, after their journey, to have Gandalf with him returning to this quiet life of a hobbit, but he appreciates Gandalf’s presence all the same.
It is strange, settling back into the comfort Bag End after so long on the road, camping out with his companions. Though he did miss it, he grows restless at times, often finding himself itching for things to do, even so soon after returning. Bilbo busies himself with cleaning, for dust has settled in his absence and a some small animals have made nests in empty corners.
He is surprised to find a large book in one of his cupboards, underneath a pile of blankets. Bilbo has certainly never seen it before, and old but beautiful thing, and he flicks through the pages carefully. One of the dwarves must have left it there, he realizes, as he reads stories about Erebor and great dwarf battles that he knows a little about from his companions. But he quickly becomes confused when he finds a drawing of himself in the book, one that looks like Ori’s work, though he’s sure that the dwarf would not have had a chance to complete such a thing in the short time that he was at Bag End, and not without Bilbo noticing.
Bilbo becomes even more concerned when he begins to read of their journey, for it is impossible that such an record would be here in his home, so soon after their quest was completed. As he continues, he finds himself reading an account of Thorin’s last moments, when he reconciled with Bilbo with his last dying breaths, but looked towards the still bodies of the brave, noble Fili and Kili in his final moments, with such love and grief in his eyes. Bilbo is astounded to find that they sound like his own words, and though he’s seen so many amazing, confounding things, he finds himself quite unable to make sense of any of this.
He’ll show Gandalf, he decides as he shuts the book, for the wizard is sure to know what to do with it.