Chapter Text
Go get lost where no one can be found
Drink so long and deep until you drown
Say your goodbyes but darlin' if you please,
Don't go without me.
It had been a long, hard journey. Between the run in with Azog and the elves of Mirkwood, none of Thorin's company knew what was quite worse. They were all run down. It was simply a miracle they received such a warm welcome in Lake Town. The rest was needed, both physically and mentally. Though not all were resting as they should be.
It had only taken Kíli point five seconds to notice that his brother was not with the group. After checking the sleeping quarters, the kitchens, the bathing chambers, and the yard of the inn they were resting in, he finally decided to venture around the town in search of the blonde. It really didn't take him that long. Passing by the men, he asked occasionally if they had seen a golden hair dwarf somewhere in their travels throughout town. The search ended quickly as he was point towards the docks, which were relatively empty by this time at night. The clouds were growing and becoming darker as dusk fell, the impending rain making itself known.
Walking a little faster towards his brother, Kíli grinned brightly as he came into sight sitting on the edge of the docks. Ignoring the older's obvious 'leave me alone' aura he clearly gave off, as well as his drawn up hood, he scampered over to Fíli in ignorance. Before he even got the chance to greet his brother, the older prince beat him to the punch.
“Go back to the inn, Kíli,” Fíli mumbled, never turning to look at the younger. He had come to the dock for some peace and quiet – for some time to think and to be away from everyone. Even his brother.
Kíli tilted his head to the side, coming to a stop a few feet from him. It wasn't like Fíli to just... push him away like that. Even in darkest times, he was always there to greet Kíli with a smile. “Fee? Is everything okay?”
“It's fine. Just go back to the others.” Fíli's voice was full of bitterness as he spoke. Kíli, either not hearing it or pretending he hadn't, continued on.
“Come on, Fíli! We're talking about our next move once we are all rested and restocked. This is stuff we need to know -”
“No, Kíli,” Fíli interrupted. “Just leave me alone. I need some time away from everyone – away from this journey.”
Kíli could almost hear the unspoken 'away from you' underneath it all. He tried not to dwell on it, even as he could feel it eating him inside out. What had gotten into his brother to make him sound so sour? He tried to think of something, anything, that could have caused this near sudden change in his brother's personality. Was it him? Did he do something?
“Fíli, really. What's wrong? You know you can talk to me... We've always been able to talk.” He murmured gently, as if speaking to an injured animal, before reaching out to grasp his One's shoulder. He had expected Fili to sigh, to turn to him and tell him all that was wrong. Maybe even to apologize for being angry. He hadn't expected Fili to growl and pull away from his brother's palm with more force then was necesary.
Fíli's hands clenched around the rim of his hood. Sometimes Kíli just didn't know when to quit. “This, brother, is not something I can speak with you about.”
Kíli's eyebrows furrowed together, confusion marking his young features. “I don't understand. You've been so withdrawn lately. Please, Fíli. Talk to me.”
“Kili,” the golden-haired dwarf started, taking in a deep breath. “Do you realize how many times we almost died?”
The conversation went in a completely different direction then Kíli had figured it would. He thought that if anything, Fíli was finally getting annoyed at Uncle Thorin. Maybe even some of the other dwarves in the company. But this? This was completely untouched territory.
“We've had near hits, Fíli, but we're still alive. Still here -”
“Yes, but for how long? How long, Kíli, before we die and become just a memory? Before we are separated permanently. Before I lose you?” He interrupted Kíli, still not daring to turn and look at the younger. “I can't lose you. We shouldn't even be here. This is not our place.”
“What do you mean by that? Of course it's our place. As prince's of Erebor, we had to go.” Kíli said quietly, eyebrows still drawn together in confusion. He saw more than heard his brother let out a bitter laugh, his shoulder's shaking with mirthless humor.
“We didn't have to go anywhere. Mother didn't want us to go. For Aule's sake, Thorin didn't even want us to go, Kíli! We are not meant to be here. This isn't our place. Not yours, not mine.” Fíli nearly snarled out the last phrase, his bitterness almost unbelieving to his own ears.
“But... brother-”
“No! You knew I did not want to go on this journey, Kíli, you knew this! Yet, you didn't listen. You dream of glory – of power.” Fíli growled, hands strung tightly into his golden curls. “You didn't listen to us. Mother, Uncle, me – you didn't even listen to me! We all told you this journey would be too much. That we were not ready for this – neither you, nor I. You never listen!”
This had escalated quickly. Much quicker and harsher than Kíli believed would happen. “But, Fee, you're next in line to throne after Thorin! It's our birthright to be on this mission. This our quest!”
“This is not our quest, Kíli! I never wanted to be king!”
Kíli stood frozen, unsure of how to respond. How long had his brother felt like this? How long – no, how many nights had he gone through this worry? Worry over being heir, over doing something that was not in his nature? His brother had always been the quiet one. Never stating his true worries, fears, and uncertainties. It was one of the areas him and his brother had been complete opposites. He never, never in all the time spent during this quest, imagined that Fíli felt this strongly over it.
It started to rain.
“Fíli... I-I'm sorry. I never... I didn't know.” Kili's young age - at least by dwarf standards - was starting to show as he apologized to his older sibling. He felt like a child again - being scolded for running off on his own and getting lost.
“Of course you didn't know. You never listen. I never wanted any of this. It was all you. I wish we had never found ourselves as each others one. I wish you had never dragged me along on this quest. I wish... I wish...” Fíli trailed off, unable to finish his sentence as a sob overtook his form.
Eyes wide, Kíli reeled back as if he was physically struck, looking down at his brother with eyes full of shock. He reached out to Fíli, never touching him. “Fíli... you don't – you don't mean that. Tell me you don't mean that.”
“Oh...” Fíli murmured, a dark chuckle escaping his lips as he pulled his hood down further over his face, ignoring the wetness on his cheeks that wasn't quite rain. “I most certainly do.” With those words spoken, the older heir to the throne of Erebor stood and turned to face the younger. Blue eyes, heavy with emotion, gave one last glance to the younger before turning down once more under the cover of soaked cloth.
And with that, he walked away.
C'est la vie, C'est la mort.
(Such is life, such is death.)
You and me,
Forevermore.