#attempted attack

It was almost a week after Fili’s punishment before he could move around freely, and for the first time since, he found himself rushing to the upper layers of the mountain. So much had changed since he last wondered these halls, from the clearing of stone to the new blockage at the front doors to the thin and narrow staircase that led up to the rampers where the rest of his company now stood. The company and his King.

Fili felt a shiver rack his body at the thought of facing his uncle again, but he knew the others would not call him if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. They had already gone to such lengths to keep him safe and well, they would not risk it now.

Shouting from the ramparts caught his attention and he quickly made his way up the stone stairs only for his heart to leap at the sight that awaited him at the top.

Elven soldiers garbed in golden armer and green leathers lined the hills as far as the eye could see. They adorned sharpened weapons on their backs and nimble bows in their hands, each one facing the mountain with a look of war in their eyes. Below them Thranduil sat proudly on the back of an elk of enormous stature, a smirk pulling on his lips and his long blond hair pulled back behind a diadem of silver. Next to him rode Bard of Laketown on a simple black horse though even he, the kind hearted human that had took Kili in despite their quarrel, looked up at the dwarves with distaste.

At the center of it all, stood Thorin. A crown of mithril laid upon his brow decorated in the patterns and intricate sigils of his ancestors, stones of rubies, emerald and diamond delicately crafted into its metal. He looked regal in his raven armor but the madness in his eyes was apparent. The way they flashed gold in the beams of sunlight as he watched the incoming armies made Fili tremble.

The prince looked at the faces of his friends, noting their hobbit missing and the rest of the company surrounding their king like they were unsure of where they should stand.

“What in the halls of our maker is going on?” he heard himself ask in a voice that much stronger than what he was feeling. The sound seemed to cut through the valley’s silence like a knife and all eyes turned to him, to gaze upon the ragged and unbraided dwarf that he was. Thorin turned to him with shock before a look of fury settled on his face.

“You dare face me after what you did? After the weakness you showed? You dare interrupt your king?”

Fili scrunched his brows and the anger in his stomach started to bubble, “I asked,” he growled with as much intimidation as he could muster, “what is going on,”

“Bilbo…” Bofur whimpered to his prince. He was shaking where he stood and wet tears stained his face. “He tried to kill Bilbo,”

“I tried to kill a rat,” Thorin spat, spinning around and taking the miner by the collar. Shouts came from everyone on the battlements as he pulled him to his knees. “And I have no quarrels killing a traitor either,”

“Thorin, enough of this please!” Balin begged at his side, tugging on his shoulder in a weak attempt to turn his attention away from Bofur. Thorin however had other ideas.

Pushing his adviser away he unsheathed his sword and pointed at the miner’s throat. In a storm of Khuzdul curses Bifur pulled his cousin back and Dwalin forced himself between them and the King with a rough punch that sent Thorin stumbling backwards.

The company broke into chaos until a stout command of “Enough,” came from Fili’s lungs.

“How low you have fallen,” the blond prince shook his head at his uncle as the company backed away with a bow, “How blind you have become if you can not see what you have changed into,”

“You- you dare?” The raven-haired King whispered with a broken look, but Fili cut him off.

“All my life I have looked up to you for your guidance, for your wisdom. And for what? For this?” he shouted swinging his hand and gesturing to the elves that sat waiting at their doors, wincing at the pain his back still felt when he moved too sharply, “For elves to threaten war on our home? To turn against our friends and allies? You are sick Thorin. And you are not fit for our throne,”

Thorin’s eyes shone a heavy gold as he glared at his nephew, “What are you implying runt?”

Fili took in a breath and willed his knees not to bend. He had not wanted to do this. To fight with his uncle in such way. Since he was a boy he had thought the world of his uncle, of his King, whether he be crowned or not. But this? This shell of his uncle that threatened and endangered his friends? This fake that would whip his kin until unconsciousness? This darkness that threatened to swallow the entire mountain?

Fili was a kind soul, but he was no fool, and he knew he had to put his people before himself. That’s why he did not stop his company as the slowly made their way behind him, bending their knees and heads not to the King, but to the heir of the mountain that would defend them with his life. That is why before the Elven King and the future King of Dale he pulled his short sword from the scabbard at his hip and rested it at his uncle’s throat, swiping with expert precision and shaving the left side of his beard.  

“You, Thorin ‘Oakenshield’ Durin, have disgraced the sanctuary of this mountain and of our home…”

Thorin squinted and spat in rage, “No, what are you doing? Stop it!”

“…As you have been deemed unfit to rule as king and shamed in the way of being sheared by you kin, I Fili ‘lion heart’ Durin, son of Vili, son of Dis and royal of blood, denounce you of your role and by force take your place as King under the mountain…”  

“You… you cannot do that,” Thorin denied, shaking his head with furry, “You cannot take what is mine!”

“…until you are fit to rule again,” Fili finished, a single tear rolling down his cheek. “Do not make this worse for yourself uncle. Hand me the crown. Prove to me that you can be saved,”

A flash of blue like lightning shot through his uncle’s eyes and Fili held his breath. He raised a gentle hand towards his uncle and took a weary step closer. The raven haired Durin let his eyes wonder over the ledge, skimming over the faces of the armed elves and slowly back to his own hands. Guilt and horror spread over his features and for a moment Fili saw his uncle emerge from his sickened shell. He took another shaky step until his fingertips fell upon Thorin’s cheek.

“It’s ok,” he whispered with a reassuring nod, “we can be ok,”

“Fili?”

“Ai, it’s me,”

With a shuddered breath Thorin leaned into his touch, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,”

“I know,” the blond nodded back trailing his hand up to free him of the crown that weight so heavy on his brow, “I know uncle. It’s ok,”

“It’s ok. It’s… it’s…,” he stumbled blinking with blue eyes, “It’s…”

In a slip second, the gold burnt back through his mind and with a cry he lunged for Fili’s throat. The ex-King was quick, but Dwalin was quicker, striking a blow to the back of his head and dropping him to the cold stone floor.

Fili was left standing there rubbing his throat with a stunned expression.

“Brother, are you alright?” Kili asked worriedly.

“He was so close,”

“I know, I saw. But we can’t do anything about that now. The elves threaten war and the humans demand what was promised. They will attack if we don’t respond,”

“Ai, the lads right Fili- ah my King.” Dwalin added with a nod, the crown in his hands, “we now look to you,”

Fili squeezed his eyes shut as thoughts raced though his brain. He took a breath and bent his knee, keeping his back straight and his lips pulled into a tight grimace. He felt the weight of the crown placed upon his head and when he opened his eyes, the company were on their knees too.

Now he was King. His people would look to him to solve their problems, to keep them safe. It was with a heavy heart he faced them, but he swore that he would serve them well.

With a shaky step, he rose and turned to those who waited outside their gates.

“I Fili ‘lion heart’ Durin, King under the mountain, am ready to heed your words,”

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