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Eagles circle the sky far above.
This is the last thing Kili sees before he closes his eyes to the pain and the exhaustion, failure accompanying every beat of his heart and the taste of blood and loss in his mouth. He cannot see Fili anymore, but his brother had fallen so very close to his side. Where has he gone? Kili tries to choke out his name, but there is only the bitter tang of blood. He prays, hopes, that this was not for naught.
If he is to die today with Fili at his side, then the only way to make this right is for Thorin to live on and become King of the Mountain. He will go to the afterlife with the knowledge that Thorin has reclaimed Erebor and their family will live on.
With eagles overhead and battle cries drowning out the sounds of the world around him, Kili closes his eyes one last time.
*
“Kili!” Fili hisses, digging his thumb into Kili’s side. “Kili, wake up.”
Kili is awake instantly. There is no exhaustion weighing down his limbs and not a speck of blood on his body. The first thing that accosts his vision is mountains of gold and he can hear Thorin just out of earshot cursing men and elves and aflame with greed. Kili doesn’t care one moment about any of that.
Grateful that there’s no one around them, Kili takes the opportunity to tackle Fili to the gold and pin him down with desperate kisses, a wild shadow of loss on his face. “I thought I’d lost you,” Kili says, his words strangled. How can any of this be? He fell on the battlefield with the eagles above and their enemies at their throats.
And yet, how blessed he is to be able to wake up and have it all repealed as though it had never happened.
His brother is breathing beneath him and more beautiful than any of the gems or gold surrounding them. Kili could cry with relief and joy, his heart singing with love and overshadowing his confusion. He kisses Fili harder, cupping his cheeks and refusing to let go. He would gladly give his life for his brother’s sake, but in the face of this second chance he thinks it best to avoid walking near the fray.
“Kee,” Fili murmurs fondly. “This is hardly the time.”
“I don’t care,” Kili stubbornly replies, pinning Fili down harder when he tries to get up.
“Thorin’s going to lead the company to battle,” Fili says darkly. “He’s going to get himself killed unless we do something.”
Blessed Aule, thinks Kili, to be given this gift. They are on the morn of battle, somehow, and Kili cannot manage any hesitation before he tells Fili the whole story of this second chance.
“I don’t understand,” says Fili. “What you’re saying sounds mad, Kili. I believe you, of course I do, but what does that mean. Does that mean we failed?”
“No,” Kili laughs bitterly. “No. We succeeded in what we set out to do. We protected Thorin.”
He tells him the awful truth of the matter; that, despite their plans to stay out of the battle, duty and loyalty to family sway them and as a result, it is not Thorin who falls, but Fili does and Kili follows after, for even in death, they are Fili and Kili and they are forever twined. They protect their uncle, but they pay the ultimate price for it.
Despite Kili’s protests, Fili drags Kili to his feet, ignoring the constant and belligerent stream of ‘no, no, no, Fili, no, Fili, no!’ They don’t have time to ask questions, for as soon as they find Thorin and the others, they are thrust into shadowing Thorin as he stalks and paces and shouts his dissatisfaction to the world. Kili digs his nails into the palm of his hand and bites his tongue because while he wishes to change the outcome of this battle, he still doesn’t know how.
“Today, we fight for what is ours,” Thorin swears and Kili wants to think that Fili believes him, well and truly, but when Thorin calls for arms, even Kili has trouble denying his uncle this. He is helplessly swept away in Thorin’s stubbornness and his own desperate need to protect his family. Kili will not let Fili go out into that battle without Kili’s arrows to give him protection and that is what serves as his undoing.
Kili is so busy protecting Fili that he doesn’t notice the orc’s arrow piercing his side until suddenly the pain blossoms in his torso. He drops his bow in shock, the sound of it loudly clattering against hard rock. The next thing he hears is Fili roaring his name aloud, and then Fili’s hands are clasping his cheeks, brushing thumbs against the cold sweat.
Fili looks so scared and Kili doesn’t know how to fix that.
“Kili. Kili, no,” Fili pleads, pressing a hard kiss to Kili’s lips while he applies pressure to Kili’s wound. “Don’t you leave me, brother. Don’t leave me broken. I need you,” Fili pleads desperately. “I don’t know what to do without you,” he protests, voice catching on his words.
Kili never wants to see that defeated look in his brother’s eyes ever again.
He reaches out with trembling fingers and pushes them through that beautiful golden hair waiting for him. “I love you,” Kili says, choking out the words with stubborn determination. He brushes his thumb over the silver clasps in Fili’s moustache; gifts that Kili had given to him in the early days of their relationship. “My other half,” he says.
“Kili,” Fili begs brokenly. “No.”
“I love you,” Kili murmurs and this time it is Fili that he last sees and thinks, never was there a more beautiful sight.
*
When he awakes again on the third morning, Kili is so grateful to be alive that he cries out brokenly and holds so tight to Fili’s waist that he leaves bruising marks. Fili demands explanation, but Kili offers none but the furious kisses of a man who has lost everything he’s ever held dear to him.
It’s not enough to stop the battle.
This time, Fili dies in front of him with a knife pierced through his torso. This time, it is Kili who begs the fates for mercy while clasping his brother’s broken body in his arms.
Kili supposes he’s lucky that they’re listening.
*
Kili spends this morning lavishing Fili with as many desperate kisses as he can. This is the sixth time he has lived this day and on four of those occasions, he has had to watch Fili die. His sanity has begun to splinter and he cannot bear another day of losing the one he loves the most. It is why, on this day, he grabs hold of his brother’s arms with a plan in mind. He hides his nefarious intentions with a playful kiss.
Fili laughs, half-in his armour, thinking it to be no more than a distraction before the moments of battle.
Kili takes advantage of Fili’s lack of attention, clasping hold of his wrist to tie him to the nearest firm surface, grateful to find that it is the iron of a long-abandoned forge. Fili’s joy turns quickly and every ounce of happiness is replaced with rage and confusion.
“Kili,” Fili warns.
Kili staggers backwards, unable to keep his eyes off Fili. “You have to trust me,” he begs. “I can’t let you go into that battle.”
“Kili!” Fili shouts, “Kili, let me out of here at once! Let me out…” Kili can’t have any of the others hearing these shouts. In a panic, Kili hurriedly tears a strip from his tunic and wraps it tight around Fili’s lips. Once he is gagged and bound, Kili cannot leave without claiming one last desperate kiss.
Kili closes his eyes tightly, reaching for the knives in Fili’s boots and the swords on his back, leaving no chance for escape. “Sorry,” he babbles. “I’m sorry, Fili, I’m sorry, I can’t. I can’t.” He staggers backwards and refuses to take his eyes off his brother on the awful chance that he won’t get another chance after today.
He tries to ignore the sounds of Fili’s protest as he leaves Erebor to join the Company’s side, saying nothing of Fili’s absence and turning instead to his uncle.
“What are we fighting for, Thorin?” Kili asks.
“For home,” replies Thorin. “For family.”
For Fili, Kili thinks and keeps that thought with him as he cuts a furious path through their enemies and does his best to live through the battle. He is gravely wounded when the fighting ceases, but he is alive.
Kili cannot say the same for Thorin.
It’s Dwalin who leads Kili to his uncle; to where Bilbo kneels at Thorin’s side with his head clasped in his hands and tear-tracks carving a path down dirty cheeks. Kili is frozen and all he can think is that Fili is bound in the halls of Erebor and their uncle is dying.
“For family,” Thorin says, clasping hold of Kili’s hand with one and brushing the tears from Bilbo’s cheek with the other. “I did this for you, for Fili, and for our people.”
“We would have settled for anything! Anything at all, provided you were alive!”
Kili is stunned that the harsh, desperate words come from Bilbo, but he wholeheartedly agrees. “Thorin…Uncle…”
“Where is Fili?” Thorin wonders as he shuts his eyes, exhaustion claiming the dwarf who taught Kili everything he knows about being the bravest and most courageous warrior possible. “He is King, now. The King is dead.”
“And long live the King,” Kili finishes numbly, watching as the last of Thorin’s life bleeds out right before his eyes. Somewhere, Fili is likely escaping his bonds and struggling to make his way down, but the battle is fought.
The war is lost.
*
In the repetitious days following this, Kili embraces the battle with a feral quality. He takes vengeance for Fili’s deaths and for Thorin’s with his bow and his sword. He lets no enemy stand before him alive, but he is one dwarf against an army and cannot stop the tides of war.
Thorin dies.
He dies.
Fili dies.
They lose their home again and again, but that pales in Kili’s eyes.
It hurts far more to lose Fili and the ever-steady presence of the dwarf he loves above all else. It hurts more to see his uncle fall with his pride so heavy in his hands. And it hurts to see the grief and madness on Fili’s face when he falls, hurts when he realizes on those days that Fili will not bear to live long without Kili at his side.
The seventh through twelfth day are filled with more loss than Kili has ever known in his life.
If he ever survives this, he swears to live a good life and to love Fili with all of his heart, no matter what men or elves have to say about them. He will do well by his King and he will love him with every inch of heart and soul.
*
It is the thirteenth day (a very unlucky number, he knows this much from portents and histories) and Kili has begun to wear the weight of loss on his shoulders like a penance he must bear. He has watched Fili die too often and has watched Thorin halved by arrows at the hands of evil creatures. Kili has died at their hands and has felt his life slip away from him and he cannot stop this battle.
He has tried to talk Thorin out of it.
He has tried to hold back the tides of their enemy.
Nothing works. Nothing works. On this twelfth day, Kili grows tired of carrying this burden on his own. Rather than curl Fili close to him and take solace in the steadiness of his heartbeat, he drags Fili by the collar to where Balin and Bofur are discussing security for Erebor’s gates. They all cease conversation when they see the state that Kili is in – pacing frantically, unsure of what words he might use to sway them to believe him.
“I need to know if there is anything in myth or history detailing a repeated day,” Kili finally says when Fili gives him a light prod to the small of his back. “Every morn, I wake up to Thorin’s incensed need for battle and every day ends with armies wrapped around us and…” He looks to Fili, loss painted on his face. “And I end the day with loss greater than I can bear. I lose the things dearest to me.”
Fili draws closer even though Kili thinks it impossible (and is eternally grateful that it is not). He rests one hand on the small of his back protectively and Kili sinks back into that touch, trying not to think about a world where Fili will not be there to offer solace and protection.
“What are you talking about?” Bofur asks, as clueless as Balin and Fili are, by the looks of it.
“I don’t know! I can’t explain it!” Kili says, frustration nipping at his heels. “I wake up again and again to the same day and I can’t escape its horrors. It doesn’t matter how hard I fight, I can’t stop it. I can’t…”
“Then maybe we can,” Fili interrupts before Kili’s desperation can eat away at him any further. He looks to Balin with a coaxing nod. “Balin, ask the others if they’ve ever heard of anything like it. And bring Thorin,” he says, looking to Kili with an encouraging smile. “Kili, if the battle is where we lose everything, then maybe what we need to do is stop the battle.”
Quickly, the assembly is brought to the balcony of Erebor. Thorin cannot sway his attention from the men and elves nearby, despite Kili’s pleading.
“You’re going to lead us to death,” Kili says sharply. No matter what foreknowledge he goes into the battle with, it never works. He dies or Fili dies or Thorin does or they all do. Kili is growing sick of the pattern of it all. “Durin’s line breaks today if you lead us into that battle without allies. Uncle,” Kili begs, “the men and elves will join us against the goblin-foe,” he argues. “We must go to them and ask alliance.”
“I will do no such thing,” Thorin says darkly.
Kili feels as if he’s losing a battle, being swept up to sea. “Thorin, you’re going to kill us.”
Fili stands at Kili’s side as ever, proud and defiant and in this moment, Kili hopes that whatever fondness Thorin has for his nephews will help to sway his heart, if not his mind. If not them, then he wonders if there is anything in this world that will stay Thorin’s hand.
“We fight,” Thorin decides for the group of them. “We have come this far and Erebor will not fall into the hands of elves, men, or goblins. Today, we fight,” he roars while Kili’s heart sinks with grief.
He presses his forehead to Fili’s shoulder, taking comfort while he can seek it out.
“You still have me,” Fili says. “Tell me what to do and I will listen. I will always listen to you.”
And so while they are not wholly united, Kili confides in his brother. He tells him of the thirteen failed attempts and uses raw materials around them to map out the battle and what area they always fall. Together, they are able to come up with a plan to protect Thorin without their uncle realizing he is being watched over.
Unfortunately, they do not remember everything.
Too busy protecting Thorin, Kili isn’t there when the pale orc strides across the field of battle defeating foes with not a care for their suffering and he pauses only once in his determination to meet Thorin. He stops to look down on a simple hobbit holding a modest blade.
“Bilbo!” Fili shouts, catching Thorin’s attention.
But it is too late.
Blood blossoms and spreads as Bilbo falls, hands clasping the wound as pain settles on Bilbo’s face and in the cry he lets out. Kili thought that he could no longer feel grief exceeding the previous days, but is proven wrong when Bilbo’s last plea is for Thorin before he falls, his knees digging into the blood-soaked ground of the battlefield.
Thorin is too far from the heart of the skirmish. Kili and Fili have made sure of this, but he is also too far to make it to Bilbo’s side in time. When Thorin makes it to the hobbit (elves keeping Azog at bay), Bilbo has drawn his last breath and is gone.
“No,” cries a dwarf from nearby – Bofur, thinks Kili, but his attention is wrapped up in Fili to make sure neither of them suffer a similar fate.
Both he and Fili survive this day, but Kili wonders at the price they’ve paid for such survival.
*
He wakes up to Erebor and its gleaming gold. Kili wakes up to Fili and his steady breathing. Kili closes his eyes to fall back to a troubled half-sleep, consumed with images from the days before.
Kili cannot rid the image of Bilbo’s red-soaked shirt from his mind. It fills him with a rage so bright that his hands quake with the need to take action. For a brief glaring moment, Kili wakes and he hates his uncle so very much for leading them to battle knowing what he did and leading Bilbo to his death.
For several moments, Kili cannot bear to part from Fili’s side, taking care to indulge in this one thing that gives him happiness. Without Fili, he is nothing – nothing worth anything. He curls his fingers tight in Fili’s hair, ignoring the protests.
“What’s the matter with you?” Fili tiredly protests. “Kili, you haven’t tugged this hard since we were young. You’re shaking,” he says, waking quickly now that he realizes the state that his brother is in. Fili’s always been quick to rise and now is no different. He turns hurriedly, beckoning Kili between his legs and drawing him in tight. “Tell me. Since when do you keep secrets from your brother? From the dearest one to your heart?”
Kili bows his head lower, knowing that it won’t be long before he tells Fili everything. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against Fili’s and wishing to never part.
“Fili, I…”
He is saved from explanation by Thorin’s urgent tones.
“Kili!” Within the halls of Erebor, their uncle’s voice reigns as king and Kili cannot help his flinch. He doesn’t dare move an inch and Fili seems inclined to agree, tightening his hold on Kili and glaring possessively over his shoulder at Thorin. “Kili,” he barks. “You spoke true.”
Kili’s wide-eyed and wild as he lets hope seize his heart.
Now, he struggles out of Fili’s grasp, brushing an apologetic kiss to Fili’s cheek as he draws into Thorin’s proximity, grasping his uncle by the forearms. He dare not ask what he wants to because if the answer is not what he seeks, then it is the fourteenth day of this damnation and he will have to suffer through it once more.
“This day. I have lived this day once before,” Thorin says, searching Kili’s face for answers that he doesn’t possess. “You warned me, but I did not believe. And I led you into battle. I led you all into battle and Bilbo…”
Kili understands what his uncle is experiencing because he, too, experienced it that first day when he lost Fili and felt like the world was as good as over if he could not save his brother – the other true half of his heart. He releases Thorin and allows him to go searching through the cavernous halls to find Bilbo, taking respite in the fact that Kili has Fili with him.
“Are you going to explain?” Fili asks, sprawled on piles of gold and still managing to shine brighter than all of it. Fili is more beautiful than anything in Erebor, the Arkenstone included, and he will not let him go. Fili adjusts his pose, propped up by one elbow and one knee crooked.
It’s a dangerous pose to take when Kili is in such a mood to claim what’s his.
“When Thorin is through with Bilbo, I imagine there’s going to be a great deal of talking and strategy,” Kili says, bearing down on Fili like a predator who has sighted what he wants most in all the world. There will be strategy to talk of and alliances with men and elves because Kili is finally beginning to think that his uncle can be swayed away from history and grudges long past.
The trouble is this: even if they live through the battle, what is the guarantee that they will make it to the next morning?
Kili tries not to think about that as he lets his fingers trace a path across Fili’s rough skin, the warmth making him feel alive. He gratefully curls into Fili’s arms when he’s beckoned and whiles away the morning with lazy kisses. If this is the last day they have together, Kili will die with Fili’s warmth upon his lips.
They are in the midst of their slow kisses when the sound of a throat being cleared interrupts. Fili flushes a wonderful pink, but Kili brazenly carries on. He doesn’t care.
“Ah…Fili? Kili?” Bilbo is there, still trying to get their attention. It must be important, then. “Thorin wants to speak to the both of you.”
Kili draws back from Fili, though his hands are still wrapped up in Fili’s tunic possessively. Bilbo looks normal save for the slight red rash against his cheek. It is just enough for Kili to know what Thorin has spent his morning doing. He hides his smile in Fili’s shoulder, hoping that Bilbo will see the approval in such an action.
Fili is the one who finally gets them moving, though he takes the time to grab Kili by the arse appreciatively. “Then let’s see what Thorin has to say.”
Bilbo leads them to a round table council where each of their company sits. They are already mired in conversation when they enter, though Thorin sits silent as he mulls over his thoughts. Kili takes the seat to Thorin’s left and cedes the right to Fili. They are the sitting heirs to Erebor’s kingdom, if only they can live through this day.
“The time has come to open our halls to the alliance of men and elves,” Thorin speaks and though there is resistance in his tone, it takes Thorin one look to Bilbo for him to be sure. “We must put aside old rivalries if we are to live this day – if we are all to live through this day.”
Thorin spares a look to Fili, who bows his head proudly, and places a hand on Kili’s shoulder to squeeze tightly. Durin’s line sits strong and with a great deal less pride than it once held, but as the leaders of men and elves join their table, Kili feels hope for the first time since all these days began.
He keeps his mind set to the task at hand, but every so often he finds that he slips and looks to Fili as he has always done throughout their lives. And, as ever, Fili is there looking back at him.
“Today, we fight a battle to protect our home,” Thorin speaks. “Today, we share our riches, for the love of one’s family and friends is…is more valuable,” he says through gritted teeth. This is difficult for Thorin, but Kili lives grateful that he speaks with humility. “And so, in exchange for gold and our alliance, I ask you to fight at our side. I ask for an alliance to conquer the enemy at our borders.”
Kili lets the voices of the Bard and Thranduil wash over him, giving him hope that today will be a different day.
“We will make our stand here, at Erebor,” Thorin says, when the three leaders are done their discussion. “The elves and whatever dwarf can fire a bow at the top canopy. Swords ready at the gates. Leave Azog to me,” is his only instruction.
Kili opens his mouth to protest, but Fili silences him with a single stern look.
They stock the battlements with warriors of every allied race with Gandalf’s promise that the eagles will come to aid their quest. They are ready when the drums of war begin, but the pace and anxiety in Kili’s heart outdoes the beating sound by far as he wonders if this is the day they will find victory.
“Thorin,” Kili shouts when he sees his uncle beginning to make way to the front of the lines to face Azog. Fili is at his heels and, as always, they are never parted. “You’re not alone in this fight. Fili and I are your heirs. We have as much claim to vengeance as you do.”
Thorin looks at the both of them, panicked and angry, but above all, he is scared.
“Thorin, I have fought thirteen of these battles before and we are always separated. Today, Durin’s line stands strong. We know what we’re walking into,” Kili says.
“And we’ll be smart,” Fili finishes for him.
There are ghosts lingering around Thorin that Kili can’t begin to understand. He has not lost grandfather and father to the same foe and nearly lost his life to him, as well. If they don’t fight, though, what kind of cowardice will linger in their blood? They must do this; on this, Kili and Fili agree (as they do on most other things).
“I’ll take the flank and bring him down with arrows,” Kili says, walking through the army to the front.
Fili’s there at his side, not hesitating as he fills in the next steps of the plan. “I’ll ensure the limbs are cut,” he says. “Knees first, elbows, then the neck.”
“And then,” they say together, “you do what you must.”
They already know of Thorin’s intent. Decapitate the Defiler and hang his head on display for the army to see. With their plan in hand, Kili hopes that emotions will stay out of the battle, but even he falters when he hears Azog’s ugly cry from across the battlefield. This thing has stolen great-grandfather and grandfather from him.
This thing wishes their family tree broken.
Kili will not allow that to happen. They will break him.
The ranks of dwarves, elves, and men wash past them like a wave breaking on shore, but Thorin holds fast with Fili at his side, Kili stepping away to take position a safe distance away. He strikes down any goblin or orc that stands in his way, squinting through the field of battle to watch as Azog meets Thorin.
Kili’s mind goes blank. There is only one task at hand and he is sworn to complete it.
He barely thinks as he lets five arrows fly, each striking the Defiler and catching his attention for long enough so that Fili may do his work, both swords ripping through flesh and spilling dark blood on the ground. The enemy army has begun to take notice of their leader’s plight and begin to change direction, rushing to aid Azog. Kili stays in position until he is out of arrows, rushing down to protect Thorin and to fight back to back with Fili, defending themselves on all sides.
“We’re surrounded!” Fili shouts, pressing harder against Kili’s back. In the midst of their skirmish, Kili can make out Thorin as he steps up to Azog, sword pressed to the flesh of his bleeding neck. “Kili!” Fili shouts.
“Fili, a little while longer,” Kili pleads. “We can make it, I swear. It’s just like when we were little and Mother kept calling for us to come inside. Remember? Fight for a little longer, brother,” Kili says, driving his sword into the gut of a charging orc.
The moment that Thorin executes Azog, Kili swears that his heart stops. It is their suffering coming to an end and it is hope on the horizon. He hears the eagles overhead, but this time he is not lying dying upon the ground.
This battle finds him pressed to Fili’s back and their enemy has begun a panicked retreat, lest they be picked off one by one by the eagles and carried to a swift end from a high fall. The temptation to chase the stragglers off is strong, but Kili has lived too many versions of this day to tempt fate.
Around them, the battle’s final moments wage on, but Thorin’s company of dwarves and one hobbit (and a wizard, one can never forget Gandalf) stands alive and well. Thorin rests his boot atop Azog’s head and casts a look across the battlefield to find Bilbo smiling back at him from where he is in conference with one of the eagles.
“Kili,” Fili murmurs, his breath heavy. “Have we won?”
“I think it’s over,” Kili says, stunned as Fili sounds. “I think we’ve won,” he bursts out with an incredulous laugh. He waits until the last orc is over the horizon to pin his sword in the dirt beneath him, turning swiftly to capture a victory kiss from Fili, refusing to let him up until he’s well and truly finished taking hold of what’s his.
Breathless, he lets Fili to stand on his own two feet – which isn’t so steady, given how he sways badly before he can stand straight.
“Come,” Kili encourages. “Let’s get Thorin off the battlefield.”
Fili grins wryly. “I don’t think we’ll have to,” he says, nudging Kili in the side to indicate where Thorin is striding across the field of battle to reach Bilbo’s side.
“Better for us, then,” Kili says, but his plans are laid to rest when they’re summoned by Dwalin to begin clearing the bodies. Kili gives Fili a look filled with promise, possibilities filling his head until the evening draws nearer and they retire back to the halls of Erebor to salute their dead and celebrate their futures.
*
On the fourteenth evening of this same day, there is not a single body missing from their party. The halls of Erebor are solemn in their victory because it does not come without any bloodshed, but they have reduced it and now the halls are filled with men and dwarves and elves and the occasional wizard aiming to put things back together.
Kili cannot help his broad grin as he traipses through the madness in search of Fili. The elves have brought food and wine and he wants nothing more than to celebrate with his other half, but in all the chaos, he’s not sure where Fili has managed to get to.
He sees a glint of light on silver and thinks it him, but as he grows closer he discovers that he’s been led astray. It is Thorin’s clasp that shines so brightly with the gleam of gold, presented in one hand to the Halfling.
Kili bites his tongue and watches as Bilbo flushes a pretty pink colour, running a hand over his head while he stammers something about being unable to accept such a token.
“Not a token,” Thorin says. “It is a gift of courtship.”
Kili grins to himself as he leaves them to this private moment, remembering with vivid detail the day he gave Fili such gifts and makes sure to close the heavy stone door behind him so that no one else intrudes. If his uncle is anything like Kili or his brother, they’ll be well occupied for the next several hours.
Speak of the devil…
Fili is buzzing with mead on his breath, his hands immediately settling on Kili’s body the instant they are reunited in the great hall of Erebor. Kili ignores the looks Balin and Dwalin are shooting them, laughing giddily as he goes readily to the one home he’s ever known – the warmth and safety of Fili’s arms.
“We survived the battle,” Fili says. “Though, we’re going to have a scar or two to tell the tale,” he murmurs, tracing his fingers over Kili’s skin. Beneath the tunic, there are scars they will not be able to shed so easily, the same as Fili has. “Shall we stay and enjoy the party?”
“Erebor is ours,” Kili announces. “And there is a bedroom fit for a prince that I have been dreaming of taking you in since I knew how badly I wanted you.”
“So it’s me on the bottom tonight?” Fili teases. “I don’t know how you can even think of such things. My body aches like I never thought it could.”
Kili murmurs his agreement. “It’s our last chance to have some privacy,” he says. “Do you really think Thorin will pause for a single moment in his quest to rebuild his kingdom? And you, heir of Durin, are going to be at his side. It’s going to drive me beyond mad to see you sitting there and want to have you every single moment of every single day. You’ll leave me to think of nothing but abusing that mouth of yours with my cock,” Kili whispers, desperation flooding him. “And how beautiful you look on your knees in nothing but a smile.”
Fili groans, reaching out and twining his fingers in Kili’s tunic. “You torture me, Kee.”
“That comes later, when you’re all bound up,” Kili says, eyes dark as he remembers tying up Fili so many days before and how a part of him had liked it so very much. Now, with no threat at their door, he is finally given opportunity to revisit such a scene.
Luckily, Fili is all-too-willing to trust Kili with whatever he suggests.
It’s not a bad way to end this day. It’s the first happy ending they’ve had and Kili vows not to take it for granted.
*
He awakes in a stately bed with a prince at his side.
Kili barely restrains his giddy laugh as he wraps his arms tighter around Fili’s waist and refuses to let go of the thing he holds dearest of all. It is the first time he has lived this day, but Kili knows he won’t make a mess of it – not when he’s been given this chance. The smell of dragon may still permeate the halls of Erebor, but they have a lifetime to fix such things.
And it starts with today.
“Fili,” Kili whispers. “Wake up. It’s the morning after the battle.”
Fili gives a tired complaint and buries his face harder against Kili’s chest.
“I’m fairly certain Bilbo spent the night in Thorin’s chambers. Don’t tell me you’re not awake enough to help me greet them both a good morning,” Kili entreats. For all the death they’ve seen and all the loss he’s suffered, there is nothing he enjoys more than mischief with his brother to cheer his spirits. “Come on,” he coaxes, tickling Fili’s bare side.
“You’re so demanding,” Fili complains, even as Kili grasps him into a headlock.
“You wouldn’t have me any other way.” Kili winks and drags Fili out of bed. “Come on! Before Bilbo wakes up and someone else gets there first!”
Kili goes with the knowledge that they have this day and so many more like it to live. As long as he has breath and Fili by his side, he cannot think of a better life.