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Chapter Text

Shucking his uncomfortable formal robes immediately upon arrival in his suite, Fíli pulled on a pair of patched and worn trousers and tunic that had made the long journey from the Blue Mountains with him. He hadn’t bothered to light the lamps so the room was illuminated only by the fire, and he glanced around a bit uncomfortably before settling into a seat by the fireplace. He shook his head, suspecting that tomorrow’s ceremony would do little to ease his discomfort at the trappings of royalty; why, his suite was nearly as large as the entire first floor of their home in Ered Luin! He thought longingly of the cozy bedroom he had shared with Kíli as he reached for the bottle of mead and poured himself a glass.

He was well into his second glass and contemplating the advisability of getting stone-faced drunk before his meeting with Thorin when there was a loud knock on the door. Fíli groaned to himself, feeling in no fit state for company, and he hoped that if he ignored it whoever it was would go away.

After a pause the knocking resumed, and his brother’s voice came floating through the door, “Fíli, it’s me. I know you’re in there, the guard said he saw you coming this way. If you’ve got a lass in there, say so now because I’m coming in.”

A moment later the door opened and Kíli’s head appeared in the doorway. Fíli rolled his eyes, “Even if I’d had a lass in here, you didn’t give me time to speak, you idiot.”

Kíli grinned and let himself in. “I was just trying to preserve your dignity, brother. I knew there was no lass, sorry sod that you are.” He plopped down next to Fíli and eyed the bottle, “Drinking alone in the dark? You are a sorry sod.”

Fíli shrugged, “Rough day. Long night.”

“If you’re going to drink, you should at least have some company. Some of us are meeting in my suite—you know, the Company—to have our own celebration before the ceremony tomorrow. You should join us, have some fun,” Kíli said with a smile, nudging his brother with his shoulder. “Everyone was saying how they never see you anymore except in Council and the like. I never see you anymore.”

His brother sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face, “I’m sorry Kíli, I’d like to, but I have to meet Thorin later.”

“At this hour? What does he want to talk about?” Kíli asked in surprise.

Fíli shrugged again, muttering, “Didn’t say,” despite the fact he had more than an inkling of what Thorin might wish to discuss.

They fell silent for a few moments, and when Kíli spoke again, his voice was contemplative, “I remember when we used to talk about defeating the dragon and reclaiming Erebor—all the things we’d do and how wonderful it would be. It’s turned out to be a lot different than we expected, but we all survived and we’ve done what we set out to do. But I…I just always imagined at this point we’d both be happy.”

“So you’re telling me that winning the love of a beautiful elf-maid doesn’t make you happy?” Fíli said jokingly. Before Kíli could protest, he continued, “As for me, well, being Crown Prince and helping rule Erebor is lot less fun and more work than I expected. But you know, all in all I can’t complain.”

Kíli rolled his eyes and gave his brother a scornful look, “Fíli, don’t treat me like I’m stupid, I know something is bothering you. You work constantly and stay holed up here the rest of the time. You don’t talk to our friends, and you don’t talk to me, for Mahal’s sake! You’re either angry or sad all the time…”

“I’m not angry at you!” Fíli objected.

“I know that. But you’re still angry at Thorin, don’t try to deny it. You can barely stand to look at him anymore. He knows it too, and I can see how much it pains him.”

Fíli snorted dismissively and turned away to gaze into the fire.

Kíli leaned against his brother and asked plaintively, “Nadad, why are you still so angry with him?

“You have to ask?” Fíli growled. “Thorin left you to die when you were wounded, and he threatened to kill Bilbo for trying to stop a senseless war!”

“Fíli, that was partly my fault for hiding how badly injured I was! Besides, he knows he made mistakes and regrets them. Both Bilbo and I have forgiven him, why can’t you?”

Fíli looked away and said lightly, “It just proves you’re a better person than I am.”

To his surprise, Kíli hissed angrily, “Don’t you dare say that, not even in jest! I know how hard you’ve worked and what a heavy burden it has been to be Thorin’s heir. I know how much you’ve taken on so I wouldn’t have to. You’re strong, and good, and selfless, and twice the dwarf I’ll ever be! I’m proud to have you for a brother, and don’t you forget it!”

Fíli stared at his brother in astonishment for a moment, then gathered Kíli in his arms and buried his face in his hair. He fought to hold back his tears, afraid if he started crying he wouldn’t be able to stop.

His brother held him and patted his back soothingly for a time, finally saying, “You know, I used to be jealous of how close you and Thorin were. He’d spend time with you and take you places because you are his heir, and the way he looked at you…I could tell he was so proud of you.”

“Kili,” his brother protested, “Thorin loves you too, and I know he’s proud of you.”

“Shush, I know that, let me finish. Eventually I noticed the price you paid…how hard he was on you and how much he expected of you. He’d let me get away with things that would have gotten you punished.

Fíli snorted, “I could have told you that!”

“Hush, you,” Kíli chuckled. “The point is that maybe it’s because he demanded so much of you that you find it hard to forgive the mistakes he’s made.”

“Kíli, that’s surprisingly insightful,” Fíli laughed. “Maybe it is.”

Kíli smirked, “I’ll have you know I have ‘hidden depths’; at least that’s what Tauriel tells me.” He chuckled at his brother’s incredulous look, then grew serious again, “Try to forgive him, please, Fíli, for my sake?” After a moment Fíli nodded, a bit reluctantly, and Kíli continued, glancing at his brother shrewdly, “I can tell that something else is weighing on your heart, nadad, other than Thorin’s actions during the gold sickness. I wish you’d tell me what it is.”

Fíli’s heart clenched; how he longed to reveal that secret, and share his fears and uncertainties with someone he could trust! But what was the point if, as he suspected, Thorin planned to tell him they should no longer be lovers? “Thank you, Kíli,” he said sincerely, “but it is something I have to work out for myself.

His brother nodded and stood, “I’d better go, the others will be waiting.”

Fíli gave him a knowing smile, “Yes, I’m sure you don’t want to keep Tauriel waiting.” He met Kili’s eyes, “Despite all the teasing, know that it warms my heart to see you so happy.”

Kíli rolled his eyes, “I can’t be truly happy if you aren’t, idiot. So whatever is causing you grief, fix it.”

The elder prince sighed as he watched his brother depart. As the door closed behind the younger dwarf, he whispered, “I’m just not certain there’s happiness enough for the both of us, nadadith.”

-ooo-

Fíli decided against finishing the bottle of mead after his conversation with his brother, so it was a heavyhearted but relatively sober dwarf prince who found himself knocking on his king’s door a short while later.

“Come!” Fíli entered his uncle’s suite and found him alone, not unexpectedly. What was more of a surprise was the warm smile that greeted him and the fact that Thorin had replaced the elaborate tunic he had worn at the reception and with a dressing gown and soft breeches. A dressing gown that, Fíli noted, revealed a significant portion of Thorin’s unquestionably impressive chest. The prince stopped in his tracks, suddenly disoriented and unsure—this was not at all the greeting he had anticipated.

Thorin rose from behind his desk and swiftly closed the distance between the two of them. “Fíli, my l— Fíli, thank you for coming. I have been wishing to speak to you for some time.” His uncle was standing close enough that Fíli had to look up to meet his eyes, Thorin’s voice a warm rumble in his chest that sent an unwelcome surge of desire through the younger dwarf.

“Here, come sit down,” Thorin added, gesturing to a comfortable seating area by the fire. Fíli sat, more than a little wary, and his uncle joined him, nearby but thankfully not so close that that he felt crowded.

“Fíli…” Thorin murmured, gazing at him with a soulful look in his deep blue eyes that in the past had always turned his knees to water.

Not this time, Fíli thought fiercely. When the older dwarf raised a hand to stroke his hair Fíli pushed it aside and snapped, “Don’t…just, don’t.”

Thorin looked as if he’d been slapped. “Of…of course,” he stammered. “I do not expect us to simply pick up where we left off…”

Seeing the older dwarf so unsettled gave him courage—and made him angry. Does he really think I’ll just coming running when he calls? After all that has happened? Aloud, he said coolly, “Wise, considering the last time you touched me you were so lost in the gold sickness you could scarcely remember my name.” It had been the night before the battle and Thorin’s love-making had been rough and peremptory; Fíli had only gone with him because he had been ordered to do so.

Thorin paled and dropped his head, unable to meet his nephew’s eyes.

Fíli glared at him, eyes blazing, the tight coil of pain that had been festering in his heart for so long fueling his anger. “Not to mention there are a number of other matters that lie unresolved between us,” he added bitterly. “For instance, that you would have left my brother, your own sister-son, alone to die among strangers. Or that you threatened to murder our burglar, without whose wit and courage we would have never reached Erebor in the first place!”

He was half expecting Thorin to lash out, angrily defending his actions; after all he had never permitted criticism before, and certainly not from his heir. But instead he looked up to meet Fíli’s gaze, his face stricken, “Fíli, I know that I wronged you grievously in my madness. I cannot tell you how much I regret it, how much it shames me; that I hurt you, the one person who most deserves my tender affection. I…I know you may never hold me in the same regard you once did, but please let me try to atone for causing you such pain.”

Fíli’s chest constricted; he desperately wanted to trust Thorin, to have a reason to release the pain, anger and resentment that had been slowly but surely blighting his life. “If you expect me to believe you, you need to explain what took so damn long.” he croaked. “It has been weeks since the dragon was defeated and you’ve scarcely spoken to me except as your heir!”

Thorin slumped back on the cushions with a sigh, looking inexpressibly weary. “At first, we were both too injured; after that, I…I lost my nerve. I had hurt you so much already that I convinced myself that you would be better off without me. Then Kíli came to me to say how worried he was about you, that you seemed to be troubled and in pain, but he did not know why.” He shook his head, “Of course, I knew why, and it struck me to the heart that it was so.” Thorin smiled wryly and continued, “But before I could screw up my courage to actually do something, Dwalin confronted me and promised to blacken both eyes this time if I didn’t at least attempt to set things right between us. Needless to say, it would have been very difficult to explain why the Commander of the King’s Guard felt the need to blacken the King’s eyes,” he chuckled ruefully. “Again, I can only say how much I regret that my cowardice caused you pain.”

Fíli gazed at him searchingly, and whispered, his heart in his throat, “Was it really that easy for you to just…give up on us?”

His uncle leaned toward him and said urgently, “Mahal, no, Fíli! It hurt like dragon fire to think of losing you… That I’d never be able to touch you again…” Hesitantly, Thorin reached for him once more, and this time Fíli did not protest, allowing him to bury his fingers in his golden mane as a choked sob escaped his lips.

For Fíli, it felt more like coming home than Erebor ever had. He closed his eyes and let Thorin’s strong fingers comb through his hair as he had so often before. When he opened his eyes, his uncle was there, close enough for their noses to touch, black hair shot with silver falling around them like a curtain. The tender look in Thorin’s blue eyes was one that Fíli had not seen in what seemed like an eternity.

They were both breathing hard, and against his better judgment Fíli reached up to twine his fingers in the dark hair and urge him closer. Thorin breathed against his lips, “Fíli, my beautiful boy… How I have missed you, my golden one…” Their lips met, tenderly at first, but the kisses quickly became heated as their bodies recalled a lover’s touch. Fíli’s hands dropped lower to tug off the dressing gown off Thorin’s broad shoulders while the older dwarf growled his pleasure and slid his hands under Fíli’s shirt.

Suddenly, Thorin sat up and released his lover, breathing heavily, “I am sorry Fíli, I…I did not mean to do that.”

Fíli stared at him in astonishment, “You didn’t mean to do it? You were kissing me accidentally?” he demanded in an outraged voice, feeling foolish for having given in to his desire for Thorin so easily.

“No, no, I meant to do it—I want to do it, Mahal knows how much—but I promised myself I would ask you something first.”

Fíli’s face abruptly closed. Eyes narrowed, he regarded Thorin stonily, “What do you want to ask me?”

“I…I…err…” Thorin stopped, looking profoundly uncomfortable. “I…I know I could order you to do this, but I was hoping that could be avoided; that you would agree with the necessity…”

“Tell me,” Fíli ground out.

Sensing just how badly this was going, Thorin unwisely decided to brazen it out. He raised his chin and said firmly, “Fíli, I wish for you to take a wife. To produce an heir, of course. Two, preferably.”

Fíli was standing in an instant, breathing hard and glaring murderously at his lover. “You bastard,” he breathed. "You heartless, orc-shagging bastard.

“That was the reason you wanted me to come tonight. That was the reason for the heartfelt apology, the…the endearments. You care for nothing except my compliance!"

“Fíli, you know that is not true!”

“Do I? Do I really? What I do know is how much it hurts to hear all the speculation about whether you will marry now that Erebor is restored. How much it hurts to think that you would take some female to your bed, and forget about me entirely. But now, your majesty, the idea is rather beginning to grow on me,” Fíli added, his tone surprisingly calm, though his eyes were blazing. “After all, it clearly does not matter where you put your cock as long as it gets you what you want!”

Thorin stood and gazed at the younger dwarf, his eyes haunted, “You…you don’t understand, Fíli, I cannot do that. I will not do that. You are my heir, I have never wanted another. You know that if I have sons it will be assumed that they will succeed me. I will not do anything that risks your place as the next King of Erebor.”

Fíli blinked in astonishment, “You would forego the chance to have your own sons to insure that I will inherit?”

“Aye, I would,” he said firmly. Then Thorin sighed and looked way. “There is another reason to consider as well. You know that I am not happy about your brother and that…elf,” he told him, mouth pinched in distaste.

“Her name is Tauriel, uncle, and she saved Kíli’s life,” Fíli retorted dryly.

“I am aware of that, Fíli, and I am trying to reconcile myself to it. But regardless, there would be far less opposition to their relationship if you were to marry and have heirs.”

The young prince felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “You know,” he said tightly, “I believe I liked you better when you had the gold sickness. At least then you just fucked me without trying to manipulate me as well.” The bitterest pill to swallow was the fact that Thorin was undoubtedly correct; if any children Kíli and Tauriel might have were outside the direct line of succession their elven blood would be seen as much less problematic.

“Congratulations, uncle, you have found the one bribe that I cannot refuse.” Thorin flinched at Fili’s tone; the edge in his voice was unmistakable. The prince took a deep breath. “I agree that I will find a wife and endeavor to produce offspring in a timely manner if you agree to allow Kili and Tauriel to marry. I assume that is acceptable to you, your majesty?” He turned toward the door. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a date with a bottle.” Despite his flippant tone, hurt and anger were etched on his face.

“Please wait!” Thorin called. Fíli paid him no heed; in desperation the king followed him and clasped his arm in an iron grip crying, “Fíli, stop.”

It had the desired effect, at least temporarily. Fíli turned to his uncle, breathing heavily, eyes hard, “Thorin, you are my king and I honor that. But while there are many things that you can order me to do, I do not believe you can force me to stay here against my will. And I am certain that you cannot order me into your bed.”

Thorin released his arm with a deep sigh. “Fíli, I know I have gone about this in every wrong way possible, and I understand why you would hate me. I am asking you—nay, begging you—to stay and give me a chance to explain.”

Fíli looked away; despite his anger, it was hard to bear the pain in Thorin’s eyes. “Say what you have to say,” he said quietly.

Thorin’s shoulders slumped in relief, “Thank you, lad.” He ran a hand through his hair pensively, “Where to begin?” He met his nephew’s eyes, his voice low and intense, “If you believe it gives me any joy to think of you marrying, you could not be more wrong. It is…agony to think of giving you to some young, pretty thing who will share your bed and your life and give you children.

“I have been…selfish, I know that,” he continued, “to take you as a lover when you were so young and inexperienced, and to let you to cleave to me for so long.” He extended a hand toward Fíli hesitantly, and when the prince did not pull away he laid a gentle hand on his cheek. “You are so young…so beautiful… You could have anyone you desire and it is still a wonder that you gave yourself to me, at least for a time. You have been my treasure, ghivashel, and have given me such joy that it breaks my heart to think I squandered your love and loyalty so for little.”

Fíli stared at him in astonishment; Thorin had never been one to easily reveal his heart, and having him do so now was almost painful. “Thorin,” he replied, still unsure whether he should trust what he was hearing, “when I came here tonight I thought you no longer cared, that you wanted to end things between us. Why have you never said anything like this before?”

Thorin smiled sadly, “Because I’m a foolish old dwarf who took far too long to realize what I truly value—what I should value. Please believe me when I say that I am willing to go back to being simply uncle and nephew, king and heir if that is what you desire. But all of this,” he gestured to the sumptuous room around them and Fíli knew that he meant the Mountain as well, “will be worth nothing if all you can feel for me now is hatred.”

The king’s dark eyes glittered with unshed tears as Fíli stepped closer to him. Hands shaking, he pulled Thorin to his chest, fighting to get his words past the constriction in his throat. “Thorin, there has been much joy for me as well,” he said fiercely.

A sound like a sob escaped Thorin’s lips as he roughly returned the prince’s embrace. “I love you, Fíli, son of Dís, and my heart is yours as long as you choose to claim it.” Wordlessly, they clutched each other for some time, taking comfort in the familiar embrace. Finally, Thorin pulled free and touched his forehead to Fíli’s. “I only wish I could offer you more, my love; above all else I wish I could publicly acknowledge that you are the one that holds my heart. But I fear that if I were to do so it would taint your position as my heir—many would question whether you had earned that honor not through your own merits but because you are my lover."

Fíli sighed and nodded, “I understand, Thorin. I never really expected it to be otherwise.” He met Thorin’s eyes, his face pensive, “Are the reasons you gave for wanting me to marry the true ones?”

“Oh, aye,” Thorin sighed, “I wish it were not so. We need heirs for the line of Durin and the opposition to a half-elven heir would be…formidable. But I cannot in good conscience force you to do something that I am unwilling to do myself. Tell me—is it that you do not wish to have children?”

Fíli smiled ruefully, “On the contrary, I would quite like to have children, though in honesty the idea of bedding a female to sire them holds little appeal for me. I have found that is not at all where my…interests lie. I also do not wish to be unkind and promise affection—desire—that I do not feel.”

Thorin nodded, “I certainly understand that. Perhaps we can find a dwarrowdam that is amiable enough, but more interested in having children than a husband to warm her bed every night.” His eyes met Fíli’s and his voice fell, “Since it is my bed you will be in every night if I have anything to say about it.” He pulled the blond close and pressed his lips to his brow. “But seeing your children born and watching them grow would bring me immeasurable joy.”

Fíli chuckled, “That I have never doubted.”

“You…you would have me, then?” Thorin asked, his voice low and uncertain. “You would stand at my side as my lover as well as my heir?”

The young prince gazed at him for a moment, torn between desire and fear. Fíli had no illusions that all the problems between them could be resolved so simply, but it also was no easier to consider casting aside someone he had loved so much for so long. Finally he whispered, “That’s all I ever wanted, Thorin, since that night in the kitchen in Ered Luin.” He reached up to catch the taller dwarf’s bearded chin in his hand and gently pulled it down until they were eye to eye. As light as a feather’s touch Fíli brushed his lips against Thorin’s and whispered, “Âzyungâl.”