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Thorin wasn't accustomed to cooking for anyone besides himself. He was used to surviving on the road and not wasting any part of the animal for his meal. Even though his people had settled in the Blue Mountains, the habit hadn't left.
The portion of bacon he had piled onto his nephew's plates went over fairly well. They ate greedily, barely pausing to come up for air. Fili finished first; he pushed his plate away and sat politely. A minute or two later, Kili declared that he was done eating by slamming his fist down onto the table causing all of the plates and silverware to jump.
"Done!" he called out brightly. "What's next?"
Fili chuckled as he leaned over and cleaned his brother's face from the bacon debris. "Kili… Uncle hasn't finished yet. You know he eats slow."
"So? I don't."
Thorin stood, the legs of his chair scraping the floor halting any response that Fili was about to form. "It's alright, boys. I'll go make the eggs while you do your lessons from Master Balin."
His nephews let out twin wails before they slid out of their chairs and sulked away to sit on the floor in the common area, a pile of scrolls between them. Thorin highly doubted that they would actually get any work done. They would probably just grumble about what injustice had just been thrust upon them.
Thorin chewed on his bacon as he made the eggs. It was a quick task. Nothing too extravagant. He knew that Fili preferred his eggs fried and Kili liked his scrambled. The last time he'd made the boys breakfast Kili had thrown a fit when they'd had fried eggs, so he'd made a pinky promise to serve scrambled eggs the next time he looked after them.
Cooking was a time he could clear his mind and forget about the worries that plagued him every day. He didn't cook for himself that often, usually he took his meals at a local tavern or ate at his sister's. So it was at times like this that he truly felt at peace.
"Alright boys," he called when the eggs were fluffy and just right. "Back to the table!"
He almost broke out into a laugh as he watched his nephews scramble from the floor, tumbling over each other racing to the table. He wished Dis was here to see this.
"Eat up," he served each of them their portion of eggs and sat down. He dug into the eggs, but noticed something was wrong. He didn’t hear forks scraping against the plates or his nephew's mindless chatter. Thorin glanced up. Fili's fork was speared with part of an egg and faced toward the sky on the plate. His blond nephew was flushed, eyes avoiding his. Kili on the other hand, had his arms cross over his chest and his tongue sticking out. It didn't look like he had even touched his plate. Thorin gently put his fork down. "What's wrong with your food, boys?"
"It's icky!" Kili yelled.
Fili whipped his head around. "Kili!"
"Well it is!" Kili pouted. "It doesn't taste like the eggs Papa makes…" The boy slumped back into his chair.
"Uncle, if I may ask," Fili said rationally. "Why do the eggs taste strongly of… bacon?"
Thorin flushed. Yes, he had made the scrambled eggs in the same pan he had made the bacon… without cleaning out the bacon grease. But that was how he cooked. Why hadn't they complained the last time he was over when he made them fried eggs, he wondered? Maybe that was the time he'd burned a hole in Dis' pan?
Kili's little voice shook Thorin out of his inner thoughts. "When's Papa coming home?"
Thorin met Fili's gaze for moment. His older nephew seemed unsettled, playing with the hem of his shirt.
"Soon, my sister-sons," Thorin soothed. He hated lying to them.
___
Heptifili went back to the stone on a miserable rainy day. Thorin thought it was a bit ironic, since he had hated the rain, loved the sunshine. Heptifili always said he was the worst miner that Mahal carved out of the stone because the moment he above ground, that was where he stayed, utterly content.
The affair was private. Only the immediate family and the priest were allowed inside the mausoleum. Dis was beside herself, sobbing uncontrollably. Kili seemed distracted and fidgety, trying to run off in different directions and only held back by Thorin's tight grasp, like some sort of dog on a leash. He probably wasn't all that sure of that was going on. Fili stood stoic, tall for his age, his face never faltered.
After Heptifili's passing, Thorin sold his small house and moved his belongings into his sister's. Truth, there wasn't much to move. When Heptifili's case of miner's lung became too unmanageable and had been moved into the healer's quarters, Dis spent the majority of her time by his bedside. Thorin took responsibility of watching over his nephews during the day until Dis returned.
There seemed to be a black cloud over the house of Durin over the weeks that followed.
Dis had become a recluse, opting to stay in her bedroom. At night he could hear her wailing. Thorin had tried to come into her room to calm her down, but she had locked herself in. After a week or so he grew tired of that routine. Every night, after he tucked in his nephews he settled himself beside Dis' door and talked about anything that came to his mind to prevent her crying. He'd talk about his orders at the smithy or how the boys were progressing on their coursework—Fili was advancing quite wonderfully with numbers while Kili still needed some work with the alphabet. He told her what about her husband too. The first time he met Heptifili, Thorin had disliked him instantly. He'd hated his cheery disposition and his joke about Thorin's chronic bitch face. But over the years he had grown fond of his sister's choice.
"Do you remember that time he made that joke about Aule at Fili's naming ceremony and no one laughed?" Thorin shook his head, his braids swinging. "Mahal, he didn't understand timing…"
He gasped as the ancient lock's mechanism sounded and the bedroom door slowly creaked open. Dis' face peeked out. Her eyes were red and puffy, her once shiny raven hair a complete mess, lacking luster. His sister offered him the weakest of smiles. "He did have an awful sense of humor, didn't he?"
Kili had remained seemingly unaware of his father's death, a happy smile plastered on his face, always knocking on his mother's door for her to come out and play. About a week and a half after the funeral, Kili tugged on his uncle's trousers as he was washing the dishes after dinner.
"What is it, Kili?" Thorin asked. He figured perhaps the child was stuck on his letters or was bored and wanted to play a game.
Kili's lip wobbled and tears threatened to spill over his eyes. "Is… Is Papa gone f--forever?"
That'd been one of the roughest nights yet. He held his youngest nephew close and rocked him on the sofa. He sang lullabies of Erebor and told him tales of a brave miner who saved a beautiful princess from a terrible dragon.
Fili on the other hand, was a different story entirely. The boy moved on with his daily routines as if nothing has happened. He did his schoolwork, went to his lessons with Dwalin. He picked up extra chores like cleaning the dishes and getting his brother ready for bed before Thorin came to tuck them in. What was odd however, was that he always came home an hour or two after his lessons. Sometimes Kili would have to walk home alone.
It hadn't bothered Thorin too badly. Perhaps Fili had new friends and Ered Luin was a relatively safe place. But about three and a half weeks after Heptifili went back to the stone, Thorin was carving a toy as a present for the little girl next door when Kili came home, shutting the door quietly and shyly walking up to his uncle. It didn't take long for Thorin to notice his nephew's red rimmed eyes and the snot running down his nose.
He jumped from his seat and ran toward the young dwarrow. "Mahal, KilI! What happened?"
The young boy shook his head and sniffled, running his sleeve under his nose.
Thorin looked over Kili to the door and cursed. He scooped up his nephew. "Where is your brother?"
Kili only shook his head and sobbed harder.
Later as he changed Kili into clean clothes, gave him a bath, and put him to bed, Fili came home with a bruised cheek, his shirt torn and knees dirtied
Thorin wasted no time and rounded on his oldest nephew. "Where were you? Why didn't you come home with your brother?"
Fili's complexion paled. "I—I—"
"You have to be more responsible, Fili!!" At this point he knew he could calm down, take a step back and count to ten but he was so angry. "You can't just let him wander by himself at his age!"
"But uncle, they were making fun of Kili!" he protested. "Saying horrible things about him! I couldn't let them do that!"
Thorin furrowed his brow. "Did you hit them?"
"Uncle, I had to—"
Thorin cursed under his breath. "You're going to be king someday, Fili. You can't fight with everyone who angers you." He paused. "Masters Balin and Dwalin will escort you home directly after your lessons for the next month since you have been disobedient."
"That's not fair!" The boy stamped his feet. "I hate you!" Fili turned and ran out of the house, slamming the door so hard that the decorations on the wall jumped.
"Fili! Fili!!"
He found his nephew later in the day at Heptifili's tome. The boy was sobbing as he spoke, "They pick on Kili, Da— And I make sure they feel sorry for it. Uncle Thorin gets angry… but what am I to do? They make him cry, Da… And I’m not as good as you at making him smile again. I— I wish you were here..."
Quietly, Thorin slid down beside his nephew, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and letting him cry into his chest. "Did I ever tell you I lost my mother when I was about your age?"
Fili shook his head and hiccuped.
"She was beautiful. She looked like your mum. She loved to sing and her cooking. Oh, she made the best pies, Fili." He stared off at the wall ahead. "But when I was about your age, I already had two younger siblings to look after. Your uncle Frerin was about Kili's age and your mum was around two. And my mother... Mahal blessed her with child. But it wasn't meant to be. Her and my brother went to the stone."
"How do you make the pain stop?" Fili sniffled.
"It never quite stops," he explained as he rubbed tiny circles on his nephew's back. "You will always love them and miss them. The pain you feel now, it lessens over time so you can go on and live day by day. Sometimes you'll have a moment of sadness but sometimes, you'll be happy when you remember them too. Remember all of the good times you had with your father, Fili. You will meet him again in the Halls of Waiting. But until then, you have to live."
___
He must have caught it from one of the men who worked at the smithy since dwarrow hardly ever were ill. Men with their weaker immune systems. It must have been Jordy who had a newborn babe at home. The other day he'd been coughing and complaining that his stomach was unwell.
Damnit.
The last couple days had been pretty hazy. He'd slept through most of it and the parts where he had been conscious or remembered were spent being spoon-fed broth by Dis or going to the bathroom. He was hot, his hair sticking to his face. He kept kicking the bedclothes to the ground but somehow they always wound back tucked around him. It irritated him.
What angered him the most was that it was the worst possible time for him to be ill. Heptifili had only been gone for two months. Thorin still had a family to put back together. He was in charge of providing for them now and every second he spent not at the forge was a moment ill spent.
It was the smell of Dis' chicken broth that stirred him awake. He coughed as he turned over from his side onto his back. Opening his eyes proved to be a more difficult task with the eye sleep sticking. As he rubbed them, he heard the clanking of the spoon against the bowl as Dis walked.
"What time is it, sister? Ooh!" he exclaimed as somone bounced onto the bed at his side.
"Hiya, uncle!" Kili yelled cheerfully. "Are you still snotty?"
"Kili," Fili laughed. "How are you feeling this morning, uncle?"
Thorin blinked. He blinked again. To his right, Kili had already made himself right at home, snuggling his tiny body against the prince's. His older nephew was seated to his left, one leg cross over the other, the bowl of broth cupped between his thighs.
"You two scamps shouldn’t be in here," Thorin rasped. Children could be easily susceptible to illnesses, even dwarrow.
Fili stated bluntly, "Mama said to look after you while she went to the market."
"Yeah!" Kili kicked the sheets. "Fili's gonna feed you and I'm gonna tell you stories." The boy pressed his hand to Thorin's forehand and laid the other against his chest. "You're so hot, uncle! Not as hot at the stove but too hot for a person. Maybe we shouldn't be giving you broth! Ice cream is what will make you better!"
Thorin glanced back and forth between his nephews. He set his hands each of them. The prince couldn't believe how much he loved and appreciated them right now. When he felt better, he was going to surprise the both of them with something special, he decided. Maybe a toy sword for Kili and a practice sword for Fili. He smiled gratefully. "I agreed with you, lad," he booped his younger nephew on the nose, causing him his giggle. "But I think I will follow your mother's orders and have the broth."
Fili took a spoonful of broth and shakily held it up to his uncle's mouth. Thorin clapped his hand over's Fili's to steady his nephew's grip and eagerly drank the broth.
"So," Kili rested his head on rested his head on Thorin's stomach, his dark curls spilling over onto the bed. "Once upon a time…"