#fikiweek2018

They defy their masters with simple touches and moments stolen in the dark, he and Fili. Two slaves, claiming for themselves the luxury of skin-on-skin granted to all free men, and the sweetness of mingled breaths which even commoners know.

Every kiss between them is a conscious choice, every embrace an act of rebellion - illicit, untamed and just, just right.

Fili’s hands defy the very laws of Rome just by laying on Kili; but they have built a home for themselves on Kili’s skin. The curling tracks of his fingers around Kili’s hips, the warm impression of them on Kili’s belly, the grazed paths of fingernails across Kili’s thighs; his fingerprints are everywhere.

Fili looks up at him through thick eyelashes, soft and sleep-mussed, and if Kili were a stronger man, perhaps he wouldn’t feel himself tremble.

One day, Kili knows - when he dies, they’ll carve his heart out to weigh against the gods’ mercy, and they’ll find on it the creases of Fili’s palm.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Fili whispers, raking gentle fingertips through Kili’s chest hair.

Kili beams. “Why sleep when I can look at you instead?”

Fili draws a sigh; it ghosts over Kili’s lips and chin like a kiss.

“You’ll be looking at me differently when you’re too tired to fight in the morning,” he chides, fingers tracing the vee of Kili’s breastbone, up and down, up and down, soothing. Kili catches them, bringing them to his mouth to lay feathery kisses on each wrinkly joint and knuckle, one by one.

“The sight of you would give me all the strength I needed,” Kili winks. Fili laughs quietly, ducking his head to hide his face against his brother’s neck, his body shaking in Kili’s arms.

Kili tugs him closer, relishing the soft rumbling of Fili’s chest against his own, vibration after rippling vibration.

When Fili pulls back, his eyes are shining with mirth.

“These Romans and their mellow ways - they’re rubbing off on you, Kee,” he says, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Next thing I know, you’ll be singing verses from their poems and moaning woefully for your audience like their bards do.”

Kili smirks then, the bow of his mouth so much like a cat’s, some might wonder where he left his whiskers.

“I only moan for one man, and never woefully,” he teases, and elicits another snort of laughter from his brother.

“Gods, you’re awful,” Fili groans, and Kili can’t help but chuckle, the sound low and rich, roused from deep within his chest.

“I’m just trying to reassure you,” he says, slinging his leg over Fili’s to pull him just that bit further into his space, humming as the warmth of Fili’s hip slots against his bare thigh. “Our next fight is only in two weeks’ time, which gives me leave to look at you all night, if I so wish.”

“There’s still training tomorrow,” Fili reminds him, curling his fingers over the strong curve of Kili’s shoulder. His thumb draws lazy shapes over the clavicle, patterns that Kili tries to guess; little circles, sinous eight-like silhouettes, perfect bows that stretch across his collarbone.

“There’s training, yes,” Kili concedes, leaning in to place a quick kiss on the tip of Fili’s nose, “and I would have you watch me.” He grins, mischief blending with the tiniest hint of desire. “I would try to impress you, make you long for me - until you’re burning with it.”

Fili tips his head back to lock their gazes, the soft gleam of a pink tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“I always watch you, Kili.”

Moonlight paints flecks of silver in the blue of his eyes, and the emotion Kili can see there– it’s something thicker, deeper, greater than the night sky. Any man would drown in it. Any man other than Kili wouldn’t know to look for hidden words there, the code too old, too intimate to crack their meaning.

“When you spar, when you fight, when you go down and pick yourself right back up - I can never take my eyes off of you.”

It strikes Kili - sweeter than a blow, and yet just as powerful, a grip clenched tightly around his heart. Fili looks at him the way wolves look at the moon and feel the howl build up in their throat - like he’s a need that lives in Fili’s blood, a pull born in the depths of him, and Kili wants nothing more than to wrap himself around Fili’s body as snugly as he can, tug him close until their skin becomes one and their bones clink together and mingle.

“Every time,” Fili says, his tone hushed and his eyes bright, “every time I think to myself, There is my love, and he stands proud and outshines the sun.”

He twines nimble fingers with the hair at Kili’s nape, and gods, but his voice is the golden touch of honey and the sturdy, unshakable ground of certainty, and this is the reason, isn’t it - the reason why the arena thunders with calls of Leowhen Fili steps on the sanded grounds; not the burnished gold of his mane, but the fierce look in his eyes, the one that makes his enemies waver like green stalks in the wind.

“There is my love, I tell myself,” he says, gaze brimming with the purest adoration, “and he conquers, and he lives to come back to me once more.”

Kili has never thought himself deserving of such faith - Fili, it was always Fili in his mind, bronze skin and heart of gold - but if this is a gift laid at his feet, he can do nothing but gather it in his arms and kiss Fili with all the love, all the passion he is capable of, and praise the gods with a thankful heart.

Fili’s lips taste familiar on his tongue; his breath as sweet-hot as Kili’s own blood. When Fili cups Kili’s jaw in his palm, when their bodies shift and curve and give to fit against each other, Fili sighs into the kiss, and Kili chases his mouth again - again, again, again, because enough never existed between them.

Love surges from within Kili, burning pathways in his veins, all scorching flames licking at his lungs, at his tongue and teeth, at the flitting muscles in his arms.

It’s the primal need to keep Fili safe, to breathe him in, to wear the sounds of him like a second skin, pulsing inside of him with the pounding of his heart.

They part, and still they only go far enough to look in each other’s eyes; the ghost of their kisses still heavy and tangible on their lips.

“We’ll be free,” Kili promises, in the breathless way of lovers, “soon, soon we’ll be free, I’ll make it so, I swear–”

Fili steals one more kiss from him, soft against the sting of swollen lips, and Kili holds him close, one hand splayed over the small of Fili’s back and the other perched under his chin, to tilt his head and taste him as fully as he can.

One day, if the gods grant him enough luck, he’ll win back their freedom and they’ll roam the empire and beyond as new men. They’ll go north, where pine and fir-tree fill the air with their cool scent and the lands are good for pasture; or south, where the coast is all steep hills and olive trees and the sea sparkles in light blues and greens against the gold-brown sand.

They’ll settle down somewhere and work hard, and maybe they’ll save up enough to buy a horse, and Kili will carve his own bow and let Fili craft the fletchings for him, like he did the first time Kili was allowed a weapon of his own.

“I love you,” Fili murmurs against his brother’s mouth, his voice so tight it might break apart. Kili presses their cheeks together, overwhelmed. I would give you the world, he doesn’t say, but he cradles Fili closer; feels their hearts beat in a frantic rhythm, Fili’s fluttering like young wings between their chests, alive– so alive it humbles Kili into silence.

Even here, even for a few moments, life thrives. Even in the poorest man’s arms you may find boundless riches.

“I love you.”

Fili hated Mirkwood from the moment they stepped into the dense forest.

It was massive, dark, and utterly suffocating.

Despite this they trailed forth, following Thorin on the laid out path. He’s silent focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

He’s exhausted. By the look of the rest of the company, so was everyone else.

When Gloin and Oin start to complain, he rolls his eyes. When Bofur and Nori voice complaints, he worries slightly. It isn’t until Kili stumbles falling onto his hands and knees does his instinct finally betray him.

He falls to Kili’s side, his hand going supportively to his back. Kili looks dazed staring at his hands, his breathing coming out in heavy puffs.

“Kili, nadad, are you alright?”

His voice seems to break Kili out of his trance.

“I-I heard amad,” Kili stutters out.

Fili’s own head doesn’t feel clear but he shakes his head.

“No, Kili. No, she isn’t here,” his voice is soft, but he’s losing Kili again.

Kili looks past him and gasps.

“Amad! Amad, you’re here!” Kili cries out and jumps to his feet. Fili is slower and nearly stumbles as he tries to catch him.

Kili runs off the path and he sees that he is heading straight toward one of the many desolate ravines in the forest.

“Kili, no!” He hollers out, the rest of the company dazed but following more out of curiosity than anything.

Kili is still crying out for his mother, chasing an invisible being.

Right before he falls head first into the ravine, Fili fully sobers and yanks him back with all of his might. He nearly falls into the ravine himself but manages to thrust himself forward onto Kili, landing on his brother, both letting out soft groans.

Before Fili can get any words out, Kili is rolled over and sobbing uncontrollably. Fili frantically checks him over.

“Kili, are you okay? Kili, talk to me, what hurts?” He attempts to pull off his leathers and vest, fearing he hurt him in the fall.

“My heart! My heart hurts, Fili! Amad is gone! I will never see her again!” Kili sobs out, the company all seems to sober for a moment, backing away.

“Let us take a moment to rest, Fili take care of your brother,” Thorin lightly orders herding everyone away from the brothers.

Fili freezes and pulls his brother into his arms, holding him tightly.

“Shh, Kili. Do not say such things. Amad is waiting for us in Ered Luin. We will reunite with her as soon as Erebor is reclaimed,” Fili reassures gently, rocking his brother against him.

Kili shakes his head, his dark hair a wild mess.

“No, no we won’t. The forest. It knows. It knows we will never see her again,” Kili babbles through the tears in hysterics.

“This cursed forest is filled with lies and other vile things. Do not listen to it, brother. If you do then you are right, we will never see amad again because we will surely die in here if we do not press forward,” Fili tries to encourage him out of the panicked state.

Kili wipes his face with the back of his sleeve and shakily nods.

“Amad is waiting on us. We will see her again. You swear we will?”

“I swear on Mahal himself. Drink some water and pull yourself up, Kili. One second of waste in this forest is another second we waste to finally see amad again,” Fili smiles and presses a loving kiss upon his brow.

Kili nods, seemingly broken from the spell the forest cast upon him.