Disclaimer: The Hobbit, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J. R. R. Tolkien's estate, and Warner Brothers, New Line Cinema, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and WingNut Films.

Author's Note: Fill for a prompt on the hobbit-kink meme.

Am I Home?

Everything is...more. More magnificence, more dwarves, more caverns, more gold and gems, more space. Just more.

During the grand tour of the refurbished Erebor, which takes up most of the day, Kili spins in circles, craning and twisting his head about to take it all in, eyes wide with wonder, akin to a tiny dwarfling receiving his first gold piece. The halls, the caves, the personal quarters, his very own room (which he looks forward excitedly to exploring more closely, having always shared a room with Fili in the past) are all fascinating.

But now the more and unfamiliar closes in on the prince. Clutching his blanket up at his nose, his body trembles as he gulps thickly. The huge bed swallows him up. (It would accommodate the whole company easily, he is sure.) The ceiling towers far, so far above him in the darkness. He thinks he understands how Bilbo must have felt when he first entered the treasure chamber to find Smaug, being nothing amongst all the gold and dragon scales. Kili, of the House of Durin, is only a speck here in his enormous room, with its shadows that come and flee at will, and creaks and noises, away in the corner there, and here just on the other side of his pillow now.

Kili squeezes his eyes shut, aware of the rapid increase of his heartbeat, his breathing coming fast and shallow.

This is home, I am home.

The loud, unidentifiable, nearby sound has the young dwarf throwing back the covers, leaping from the bed, and racing to his door and jerking it open before he even realizes what he is doing. The low torchlight in the hall is welcoming. For an instant Kili grows still, balancing on the balls of his feet, his arms hugging himself tightly, protectively. Then he is off, not caring how loud an echo his bare feet make running down the hallway.

One right turn, two left turns, fourth door on the right.

Without hesitation he pushes the door open just enough to slip inside. The lone candle is almost burned out. The lad debates with himself for the ten long strides it takes to get to his uncle's bed. Lying down on the ground right beside the bed, he reaches for the sleeve of Thorin's nightshirt, his arm having fallen over the side of the bed. Holding the cloth like a lifeline, the young dwarf feels less boxed in, a little easier to breath as the dwarf king's snores rumble in the air. No longer being completely alone in this massive mountain…


The lad jerks, unsure if he has fallen asleep. Vaguely he is aware of a strong, rough hand fumbling to close over his wrist. The candle has gone out.

"What are you doing?" Thorin growls sleepily.

Kili babbles incoherently, "Not, didn't mean to— Noises, room's so large...everything. Does not feel like home. Not yet! I—I—"

His uncle cuts over him, bewilderment creeping into his voice, "What are you doing down there?"

"I didn't want to disturb you?" He winces as it comes out a question instead of a statement, his voice small and weak.

There is a beat of silence. Next a loud huff followed by, "Come on," and Kili finds himself half rising on his own power, half being pulled forcibly and insistently by Thorin onto the bed. Wide-eyed, he is pulled close into his uncle's embrace, and the covers are tucked around his lean body just so until the king expresses his satisfaction with a grunt.

Kili breathes in deeply, relaxing in the warm body heat, the older dwarf's scent and scratchy beard familiar and assuring to the lad. He jumps at a strange creak. Thorin tightens his hold on his nephew, an aura of protectiveness in the action. Kili sighs, not feeling quite as threatened by the unknown sounds and shadows.

"Erebor will eventually feel like your home," Thorin speaks into the quiet some minutes later, startling Kili. "It will take time for it to be home again for me as well," he confesses quietly.

Kili shyly wraps his arms around his uncle, taking comfort in his words and understanding tone. Perhaps Erebor already is becoming home a little bit, he wonders. For he has Thorin, Dis, Fili, and the whole Company...his family here with him. He cannot ask for anything more.

"Thank you, uncle," Kili whispers hoarsely. He smiles when Thorin lightly brings his forehead to his nephew's in a dwarven kiss.

"Sleep, Kili," the order is gentle.

Curling into his uncle's chest, Kili happily obeys.