Updated with a suggestion from the lovely Jyslinn. Thanks!

*SPOILERY SPOILERS OF SPOILEDNESS*

Fili's death in the movie kinda bothered me...okay, my jaw pretty much hit the floor when it happened. It was just kind of glossed over while Thorin and Kili both got very emotional death scenes. In fact, Fili was kind of overlooked for the entire trilogy. And yeah, maybe Kili was the fan favorite, but Fili was second in line. I feel like he should have gotten more attention than he did.

So I decided to write this thing. Hopefully you like it.

Nadadith…Fili's eyes pleaded as he hit the ground at the feet of his brother who waited hidden in an arch. His little brother had watched him die…what would Kili do without him? He did not know, for he did not live to hear Kili's cry of almighty rage at his brother's killer, did not see him charge out of his hiding place, weapons at the ready to avenge his elder brother's death. No…he saw none of it. He would go now to the halls of Aulë, and perhaps—oh, perhaps!—be reunited with his father, and his uncle's brother, Frerin, who he had never met but whom Thorin always spoke of with great fondness.

The light was gone from his eyes now, the pain, he could no longer feel. The sounds of the battle were over as his blood ceased its rushing in his ears. With his very last breath, Fili's soul rose from his body. But wait—something was wrong. He was not headed to a great vaulted mansion—indeed the journey there was a great distance from the battlefield—but it was something else that weighed on him and kept him here, hovering above his lifeless mortal form. Indeed, he had been too young to die, but that could not be helped now.

And then—a cry alerted him to his purpose. He knew why he was still here. In life, he had been Kili's protector. And so, too, would he be in death. Fili did not know how he moved—after all, he was no longer in possession of his body. But there he was, faster than he could ever have run, at Kili's side, watching him fight against that cursed orc. And she was there, the red-haired elf who had saved his brother's life and with whom he had fallen quite inexplicably in love. But no matter, Fili noted. She was aiding his brother. He commended her for that.

But…it did not last. Though she fought well, she was injured and could not hold the orc off for long. He saw the anguish in her face as a stake was driven into Kili's chest…and Fili powerless to stop it. Nadadith, he whispered to Kili, though he had no voice, as his brother's eyes were squeezed shut in pain, a single tear stealing down his bloodied face. I am here.

Fili, his brother's soul replied. And then, quick as an arrow and light as a songbird, Kili's spirit was gone. It did not linger. He had no further burdens to bear on this earth. But for Fili, there was yet one more.

When he reached Thorin, his fight was already over. The Halfling had found him and was muttering needless platitudes. Yes, the Eagles were coming…but they would not reach Thorin in time, Fili knew. His uncle's soul had sensed the presence of his, but he let Bilbo comfort his uncle in his final moments. It was unlikely they would meet again, as hobbits and Men answered to a different Creator. But what surprised Fili most was his uncle's final words to his friend.

"If more people valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, this would be a merrier world…" He was referring, of course, to the night in Bilbo's home, when the Company had first gathered all together and was completed. Fili had not realized just how happy his uncle had been that night, amid the merriment. He had always been stoic and hard to read, even to his nephews, who he held dearer to him than anything else.

Thorin's soul acknowledged his with the all the solemnity and gravitas of a fallen king. I am sorry I've led us to this. And then, slowly and with great sorrow, he departed.

But why…why did Fili linger when his kin had gone? What was holding him here? The heart-wrenching sound of Bilbo's weeping reached him, and he came to settle beside his companion in a vain attempt to offer some comfort. But Bilbo could not sense him. It seemed that only the dying could.

Thank you, Bilbo, he offered uselessly. It was all he could think of to say. What more could be offered but thanks to the person who had somehow gotten through to his uncle and brought him back from the brink of madness? He could do nothing more to help, and so he left Bilbo to grieve as he made his way back to the place where Kili had fallen.

The elf was there—what was her name? The name his brother had whispered in his feverish delirium as his ordeal with the orc poison had at last ended—Tauriel. It was Tauriel who now wept over his brother's still form as another elf looked on. It was the king, the king who had imprisoned them and refused to aid his people in their flight from Erebor so many years ago. How dare he be here now? But then—then the she-elf lowered her face to Kili's and kissed him. In an instant, Fili's rage at the elf king was replaced by shock.

"Why does it hurt so much?" Tauriel wept.

"Because it was real." answered the Elvenking, with a twinge of pain in his voice. Pain? Fili had not believed him capable of feeling at all.

"If this is love," she pleaded. "I do not want it. Take it from me."

Fili saw red. No. Of course you don't want it. I almost thought better of you. I almost thought you deserved the love of my brother. I was almost willing to forget the prejudices my people have against yours so that you both may be happy. But now all you want is to forget—to feel nothing. As though it never happened. As though you never loved a dwarf. He would have dearly loved, in that moment, to push her aside and hold his brother one last time as he should. But alas, he could not. He could do nothing without a body.

And what had become of his? Did anyone mourn him? He fled the elves and their willingness to forget love, forget happiness, forget all that was good in the world if only so that they did not have to feel the pain that accompanied the bad. He went back to the place where he had fallen to see that his suspicions were true. His body, all alone, was covered in a thin layer of snow as he lay in a pool of his own blood that had escaped from the wound inflicted upon him by Azog the Defiler.

Fili's soul—all that was left of him now—was torn in two. It screamed in sorrow and pain, regret and anger. He had been left all alone, forgotten in death as he often was in life. Kili was always the favorite, he could not deny that. His brother's lighthearted demeanor always won everyone over. And Fili, as the firstborn and second in line to the throne, had often received nothing but harsh words from his uncle and mother. They were strict with him—but, he thought, needlessly so. How could he have voiced his desire for a bit of tenderness from either? He was a prince of the line of Durin. He was meant to be strong. He should not have wanted what he could not have. It would have ruined him, not only as Thorin's heir, but as a warrior.

Fili felt himself sinking, sinking to rest beside his mortal form. He did not know how much time passed—it could have been minutes or hours, the soul, after all, was not a fair judge of time—before he saw a figure emerging from the mist and the snow. Dwalin.

What happened next, Fili could not have expected to see if he had lived a hundred lifetimes. Thorin's best and fiercest warrior knelt down beside his frozen corpse. Gently, as gently as if he were lifting a child, Dwalin lifted his head into his lap and smoothed his blood-crusted golden hair.

"Oh, lad." his voice, heavy with emotion, betrayed his oft-unseen kind nature. "Oh, laddie."

Dwalin embraced his body, now as cold as the snow itself, as tears coursed down his face. Fili's heart broke at the sight of the stern dwarf who had undertaken his weapons training, who always had some word of encouragement for him, who had taught him to be what he was at his last. Brave. He had taught him to be brave. But even the bravest must let down their guard sometimes.

Balin appeared after a time, resting his hand on his brother's shoulder in comfort. Dwalin nodded, got up, and the two of them picked up Fili's broken body and somberly carried it away.

The hushed voices in the burial vaults were but mere background noises to Fili as he gazed upon the bodies of his uncle, his brother, and himself laid out on immense stone platforms so that they may be viewed by all. They were adorned in clothing befitting the royals that they were, though Fili had never felt particularly royal. All three had crowns upon their still heads, and in Thorin's clasped hands was Orcrist. Amid the hushed chatter he heard two sets of footsteps, one heavy and slow, the other light but with the same leaden pace. The hushed crowd fell completely silent as the owners of those footsteps approached the bodies. Bard came forward first, holding a large and brilliant jewel—the Arkenstone. He approached Thorin's prone form and placed it in his clasped hands, retreating without a word.

And then…Tauriel stepped forward, clasping something in one hand. The crowd erupted in hisses and jeers, but she turned to face them with a steely gaze that conveyed all the misery of battle and just as suddenly as they had started, they fell silent again. Fili drew nearer to see what it was she held and caught sight of a small blue stone—Kili's rune stone. She did not kiss him as he had seen her do on the battlefield, but tucked the stone under his hand and held it for a moment, gazing at him with both love and longing in her eyes. She wanted to bid him a proper farewell, Fili knew, but could not do so in front of an audience of dwarves who hated her kin for reasons valid or not. It was courageous enough of her just to be here, let alone return the rune stone.

Heaving a sigh of suppressed emotion, she turned away, and, eyes straight ahead, retreated.

No one was there for Fili. No one offered a token of departure to the golden-haired prince lying prone beside his uncle. Behind him, a mourning song rose in the deepest caverns of Erebor. This was it. They were gone. All three of them were being laid to rest. His uncle's soul, and his brother's, had long since departed.

Why did his still remain?

The vaults housing their bodies had been sealed, their names and titles carved into the stone with kind and noble words of remembrance. The last candle had been extinguished, and all had departed. Above him, Erebor continued to expand and repair as people flooded in from their long exile. And yet, Fili had lingered since the battle, months or years ago, he was not sure. Sometimes he ventured into the upper halls to see the progress of the city. He saw the joy and happiness of families being reunited in their rightful home, but felt only jealousy and sadness for what he could not share.

Most often, though, he stayed below in the vaults with his family, and though they could not respond, he would speak to them, ask them why they had gone and he had stayed. He was so lonely. Though he had never given it much thought, he had not envisioned life to end this way. He had thought he would be reunited with those he had lost. And so, after so much time despairing, Fili's soul gave up hope.

The light within him dimmed and was very nearly extinguished the day he heard footsteps descending into the musty chamber where his soul had taken up permanent residence. The faint light from a candle shone on the wall in the stairwell as its bearer rounded the corner. A dwarf woman slowly made her way towards the three massive stone slabs sealing the tombs of Thorin Oakenshield and his nephews. She approached then with the gait of the aged, but yet she was not. Her sorrow made her appear old beyond her years. Slowly, she removed her hood, and with her free hand, ran her fingers along the inscriptions.

Mother! Fili's soul cried out.

"Oh, my brother…my sons." Dis's voice was only a broken whisper. "My boys. Oh, Mahal, why have you taken them from me?"

He came forward to linger by his mother's side. He wished he could embrace her, or that he could speak, so that she may hear him, and know that they were all right. Thorin and Kili were at peace, even if he was not.

She turned away abruptly, moving towards Kili's tomb as she held the candle so that she may see her youngest son's name, and his brave deeds, carved forever into stone. But it would not bring him back. Nothing would.

"My child." She murmured, forcing the words past the lump in her throat. "My darling Kili. How you always despised the dark, and now…now that is all that's left for you. I miss you so much, my love."

Fili stayed where he was, his heart torn to shreds by his mother's overwhelming sorrow. Mother, please…it's Fili. Hear me, please…I am so alone…

Dis moved to Fili's tomb, alongside Thorin's, and went through the same motions as she had with his uncle and brother. Tracing her fingers along the runes that spelled his name, her emotions got the better of her, and she sobbed.

"My Fili…my courageous ray of sunlight." she gasped out. Fili remained stock still, lest he miss a single word spoken by his mother. "I could not have asked for more from you. You were always there for…for Kili and me. Thorin…he was so proud of you and what you'd become. As was I. I know we were hard on you at times…my only regret now is that I'd shown you all the affection I showed to your brother. I am so sorry…my poor Fili."

His mother wept, her tears falling upon the foot of his grave, as Fili drew near her. Oh, how he wished he could embrace her, or merely place his hand upon her shoulder. There was such a distance between them now, an uncrossable chasm that separated the living from the dead.

And so, even though he had not thought himself capable of showing emotion any longer, Fili broke down and cried for the both of them.

Fili gazed upon his own tomb, the dampness of his mother's tears still visible though she had left some time ago.

Fili! exclaimed a voice from behind him. I've come to take you home!

Home? Fili whirled around, confused. There, standing before him and looking alive as ever, was Kili. Kili! Oh, I've missed you! He reached out to embrace his brother—he reached. No longer was he a disembodied spirit. As they embraced, another figure appeared. Thorin.

Fili, he spoke solemnly. Your time is done here. It is not your place to remain, nor was it mine. Do not be foolish as I was. You deserve happiness. He smiled warmly at his nephew. Come. They are waiting for you in the halls of our fathers.

They? asked Fili.

Father and Frerin and all the others, explained Kili, taking his brother's hand. Come on!

And Thorin—Thorin laughed and extended a hand to his long-lost nephew. Together, all three departed from the vaults of Erebor and into the unknown hereafter.

Hopefully that was sort of a happy ending. I wouldn't know. I'm not terribly good a writing them.

Please review!