Monat: Juli 2015
[The parchment is stained with dirt and another reddish-brown substance of unknown origin. The writing is crooked and ragged as if done by someone who does not write very often; it’s Westron, though the name beneath it is written in the Black Speech.] You lost something. [Folded into the parchment is a strand of dark hair, the silver hairband attached bears Kili’s crest.]
Fili stared down at the parchment in his hands, his fingers shaking as he read the simple message, the words looking so innocuous and yet.. how they stabbed into his heart. His fingertips brushed over the silver hairpiece hesitantly, before carefully scooping it out from the fold, the dark strands of hair clasped in it silken smooth against his skin. “Kili..“ he breathed, the letter falling from numb fingers as he pressed the strand of hair to his lips, feeling tears of fear well in his eyes. A moment later he was pocketing the clasp and the hair, placing it close to his heart, as he ran to saddle his pony for the ride to come. “Don’t worry nadadith… I’m coming.”
Fili pulled his hands away from Kili’s throat the instant his grip relaxed, letting out a shuddering breath and wrapping his arms instead back around his brother’s shoulders, careful of course, but hugging him tight to himself. He buried his nose in Kili’s hair and breathed in the familiar smell, off though it was mixed with herbs and salves. Underneath it all was still the brother he lived for.
“It’s fine,” he answered, voice hoarse with emotion. He’d been so close to losing him. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.” Even if it made his stomach churn. He didn’t want this responsibility – didn’t know if he truly deserved to be the thing that held his little brother together, but he was desperate enough to have him back whole and well that he would do just about anything Kili asked if it was meant to help.
Despite the fear of pressing some unknown button and sending his brother into hysterics, his hands moved obligingly. Stroking back dark, sweat soaked hair and carefully down his back, Fili held him, and petted him, and pressed kisses to his hot brow, murmuring soft words of love into any unbruised patch of skin he could find. My brave, strong brother. How I missed you, how I love you. Nothing will take me away from you. Nothing, my love.
The bandages on his back were thick enough he barely felt any pain at Fili’s hand sliding down his back; for a brief moment, it did indeed scare him as he felt the light pressure but not much else, but then he realized exactly that, and closed his eyes again for a brief moment.
“I know” he muttered quietly, “Y’always know what to do.” He did indeed still feel tired, but it wasn’t the numbing exhaustion of fever and fear that had been dragging him down for the past few days. Instead, it was the safety he found in his brother’s arms that made him feel almost at ease (if it hadn’t been for the pain that still shot through his body whenever he moved the wrong way). “I still want you to do the tattooings, Fee” he said quietly after a moment, the fingers of his good hand wandering from his brother’s neck down to the medallion on his chest, “I need – I mean – there – there will be scars, right? I want you – to do something about it. As soon as it’s possible. Please.” Well, they likely would have to ask someone about when exactly it was possible, wouldn’t they? Oin maybe. Maybe Dwalin, considering the elder dwarf had some experience with tattooings.
My Brother’s Keeper
“I want to be a warrior” the boy repeated, “Like you. I want to protect – my brother. To make Mother smile.” There was a strange noise in Thorin’s breathing, making it sound forced and choked. “I’ll teach you” his uncle finally answered, his voice muffled as he pressed a kiss to Fili’s hair, “I’ll teach you, little one, I promise.”
They are brothers in arms and brothers in blood and bone. They grow up to become lovers and homeless princes. Their most difficult challenge will be a journey that changes their lives forever.
[Durincest fic based on durinsxsons. Starting during the harsh winter in which Dís’ second son is born, dealing with the upbringing of Thorin’s nephews, and their greatest journey. Mature stuff will happen lateron; violence warning might apply to later chapters. Enjoy!]
[The parchment is stained with dirt and another reddish-brown substance of unknown origin. The writing is crooked and ragged as if done by someone who does not write very often; it’s Westron, though the name beneath it is written in the Black Speech.] You lost something. [Folded into the parchment is a strand of dark hair, the silver hairband attached bears Kili’s crest.]
Fili stared down at the parchment in his hands, his fingers shaking as he read the simple message, the words looking so innocuous and yet.. how they stabbed into his heart. His fingertips brushed over the silver hairpiece hesitantly, before carefully scooping it out from the fold, the dark strands of hair clasped in it silken smooth against his skin. “Kili..“ he breathed, the letter falling from numb fingers as he pressed the strand of hair to his lips, feeling tears of fear well in his eyes. A moment later he was pocketing the clasp and the hair, placing it close to his heart, as he ran to saddle his pony for the ride to come. “Don’t worry nadadith… I’m coming.”
Fili slowly paused in his ministrations, carefully withdrawing his fingers from Kili’s neck when he caught the expression of discomfort on his face. He frowned, but he didn’t pull completely away, hand lingering at his shoulder. He nodded at Kili’s question. Of course, he would do anything Kili asked.
At least he thought he would, until Kili was pulling his hands up and pressing them around his own neck. Fili’s eyes widened, feeling a fluttering pulse beneath his fingers and seeing the bruises peeking out from beneath his palms. He wanted to yank his hands back and snap at Kili, but he’d said don’t ask questions, don’t let go. Fili bit back a strangled sound of distress, his whole body strung tight as a bow, well aware of how delicate the skin was beneath his hands, how easily he could squeeze – how someone else had. He stared in horror at his own hands wrapped around his brother’s neck, remembering the iron collar. His lower lip trembled and he shut his eyes, blocking out the image so all he was aware of was Kili’s labored breathing and the wildly fluttering pulse beneath his fingers and the tension in both their bodies. Kili could probably feel his own heartbeat speeding up in his chest as well – he doubted it was very soothing. But he waited nonetheless.
But he waited, and that was the important point. It seemed to take ages until he allowed his brother to let go, wrapping his good arm around Fili’s waist instead again and burying his face at Fili’s shoulder. He was trembling indeed, his own heartbeat ringing in his ears, but he also swallowed down the tight feeling in his throat. Safe, right? Fili’s skin was warm beneath his face, despite the fever in his own body, and he focused on it, and on the soft fabric beneath the good half of his face. “’m sorry” he whispered, “I don’t want t’use you like that but – but I need y’to wipe it out, Fee – y’re the only one who can. It’s fine. I’m fine.” Well, as fine as he could be. He was shaking all over his body and still feeling the light pang of sickness in his stomach, the struggle for air in his chest.
“I won’t let them take y’touch from me” he muttered, half to himself, a defiant note in his voice, “I won’t, Fee. I won’t. Please, can you – can you not stop touching me?” It was strange, the feeling of his brother’s touch having replaced the need for anything else, air, water or food; as long as his brother was there, he would be able to bear anything, wouldn’t he?
Building a Future
His brother’s hesitation was obvious. It made Kili worry himself, ice making his stomach churn, but Fili went on, his touch drawing lines of fire over Kili’s skin, melting through whatever worries he’d had. Claiming his brother back had only been half the work, Kili realized; it was no use if his brother didn’t want to come back himself. But he did, and that was almost enough to make him cry himself this time.
He didn’t, though. Instead, his hands wandered back up, gently cupping his brother’s face as he kissed him again, gasping sharply as he felt his brother’s finger slip into him. It had been far too long indeed, but his body still opened up to Fili willingly and readily, the fire from his brother’s hands spreading through every cell of his body as he spread his knees a little more, smoothing himself down onto his brother’s hand. “Mahal, Fee” he muttered, “Don’t stop, yes?”
Bending his head a little more, he gently ran his teeth down the curve of his brother’s neck before reaching for his brother’s free hand, carefully – stiff fingers and all that – intertwining his fingers with Fili’s and holding him close, the mark in his own palm pressed against that in his brother’s. “I love you, Fee” he breathed, resting his forehead back against his brother’s to kiss him again, “I missed you. Really.”
Always and Forever
Fili blinked a bit at that immediate response, but the expression quickly shifted into a warm smile. A responsible brother should have told Kili that living one’s life around someone else was unhealthy, but he didn’t. He supposed he wasn’t so responsible as he always claimed to be – evidenced by what they had been up to just now – but he thought he was alright with that, if it meant he got to have this. It would have been hypocritical anyway – his whole life from the day Kili had been born had revolved almost entirely around his baby brother, and he didn’t mind one bit.
His eyes closed briefly with a small shiver as Kili shifted against him, savoring the feel of warm skin sliding against his own. They reopened to watch Kili’s hand as it drew his own downward, obligingly trailing his fingertips through the dark curls in the v of his hips. The touch drifted to ghost along the soft length nestled there, remembering how it looked flushed and erect, how it felt buried inside him. Fili paused at his brother’s question, shooting him a startled glance and ducking his head just so that his nose brushed Kili’s shoulder. He cleared his throat, feeling a little awkward under this line of questioning, and mumbled faintly, “Once or twice.”
Glancing back at his brother over his shoulder, Kili grinned as he saw the flush in his brother’s cheeks. “Once or twice?” He shifted, smoothing himself against his brother once more, despite the soreness and the tiredness in his body. “Cause you didn’t like it or cause you weren’t in the mood?” His fingers stayed firmly connected with his brother’s, though; he did want Fili to touch him some more, after all, and his brother seemed more than willing to oblige. Fili’s warm breath on his neck made him shiver anyway.
His questions had a meaning, of course. Considering Fili had apparently very much enjoyed what they’d done in the baths, and what they’d done just now as well, his brother had – more or less – known what they were doing, but there could always be improvements, right? And there was his own natural curiosity, of course. Apparently he had some more history with the subject at hand than his brother had, though. “Tell me” he demanded with a light grin, turning his head to brush his lips over his brother’s cheek, “I’m curious. I’ve been thinking about that every now and then, after all…”
Kili sprawled out on the bed, head hanging a bit over the side, the expression on his face being a dramatic showing of an upcoming death of boredom. „Feewee. Pay attention to me.“ (durinsxsons)
“I am,” he mumbled automatically, though he didn’t even glance up from where he was carefully wrapping thin leather strips around the hafts of the throwing axes he’d just finished sharpening to form the grip. Creating a smooth grip while maintaining the axe’s balance required careful precision.
There were two done, neatly laid out on the floor on a blanket, the last in line still waiting.
He hummed softly, content to snuggle closer in the comfort of his brother’s arms, warm and sated. His nose nestled in the curls at the base of Kili’s neck, breathing in his familiar scent along with the all too present smell of sex. They really did need to wash. “Yes,” he answered immediately. He would never say no to the coveted luxury of having his hair washed.
Husband. The word tingled over his skin like smoke, binding them together even closer than as brothers had. Fili smiled into his brother’s kiss, tasting love on his lips and in his soul. He supposed he should feel awed by Kili’s confession, or amazed that he was so lucky to have found this. Sadly though, he never really had been – Kili had always been there, he’d always had him. He was grateful for every moment, of course, every touch and every word he treasured above all, but he’d never been surprised, or even wondered why. They just… were. This was as it should be, and he was happy. Fili reached up and cupped Kili’s face in return, mirroring the gesture, and then briefly resting their foreheads together. “I know. Because you are. You took my heart and gave me yours in return the day we met.” He pecked his lips gently and slid around so Kili could do his hair, squirming a bit trying to find a comfortable position.
Kili bit back a grin at his brother’s shifting. “That bad, is it?” he hummed with a light smirk, pressing a soft kiss against his brother’s forehead before moving to take care of his hair, enjoying the silky feeling beneath his hands.
“I did?” He glanced down at his brother with a spark of curiosity. “I mean – I always knew I was born for you. Y’never said y’saw it the same way, though.” Possessive as it might have sounded – one way or the other – it also filled him with delight. He’d always been Fili’s, indeed. Had there ever been a night they hadn’t slept in the same bed, willingly at least?
“It took you quite long t’finally do something about it, though” he noted with a grin, gently tugging the golden strand of hair between his fingers, “Don’t pretend y’didn’t at least think about it before. About me, to be more precise.” Dimly, he wondered whether his brother had had his own fair share of dreams about the two of them, prophetic or not. Then again, it was difficult enough for himself to diverse between the occasional wet dream – that happened despite their more than satisfying relationship – or actual meaningful things. Sometimes, the two of them mixed with each other anyway.
One day I’ll remember. Remember everything that happened: the good, the bad, those who survived….and those who did not.
keep careful watch of my brother's s o u l;; 