The room is on fire; he can feel it deep within himself. An intense burning that penetrates through all the layers of his body. He has to get of there right now; he tries to force his eyelids to open but the weight of the presses down firmly onto his eyes. He commands his body to move, to scream, to spasm, to do anything at all to alert someone that he has to get out of this fire. His body is weighed down with irons, he cannot move an inch. He tries to slow down his breathing, since passing out will not do him any good in a room of fire; although he is not terribly conscious either and so the breathing remains at its quick pace. As he lies there, chained to the bed, he begins to realize this must be the slowest burning fire in existence; his level of agony, while intense, has not increased since his lying there. The worst of it though, is coming from just below his left nipple, the pain slices through his ribs like butter. He screams out, but he cannot hear a trace of the sound.

Fili's head lies heavily upon the edge of the mattress; there is an ache above his left eye that has persisted for days and a throbbing pain throughout his head that emerged just a few hours ago. His palms are sweaty but to him they feel ice cold, he has shoved them down into his lap so that he does not have to watch them shake and shiver. Unlike his brother though, Fili was not mortally wounded and recovered well enough within a couple of days. His brother lies motionless upon the hard bed, the gaping wound in his chest finally stopped its profuse bleeding last night but it has made no attempt to begin healing. Kili was brought in four days ago, and neither brother has moved since; the healers say Kili is beginning to recover, but Fili fears it is not so. His skin as pale as the moon, and the wound inflamed and burning red, Fili is sure that his beloved brother is going to die.

Around them, life under the mountain continued on as if they were not suffering immensely. Bilbo had left to go back home to the Shire after the first day, since then everyone, except for Fili, has been focused on rebuilding their home. Now that Thorin is dead, Fili knows that either he or his brother will have to take the throne as his next of kin. He knows in his heart it will have to be him, since he is five years his brother's senior. He cannot imagine being King Under the Mountain with no brother by his side; he pushes the thought far from his mind.

Fili lifts his head from the bed and rests his elbows there instead. He stares into the closed eyes of his dear brother and begins to weep softly; they have lost so many loved ones, why would the gods threaten to take away his brother? He places one palm on his brother's hand and realizes then just hot his own body is; Kili's feels like ice. He hears heavy footsteps behind him and he can feel the gentle presence of Balin.

"You know, your sitting there is not going to make him wake up." His words fall on Fili like hail, "In fact, it might be better if he doesn't wake up for a while, he needs his rest." Balin is now standing right behind Fili, he places a hand on Fili's shoulder gently, "And by the looks of it laddy, so do you." Balin cautiously examines Fili's own stab wound, on his right side. The blade missed the important things and so it stitched up nicely; but the lack of rest or food is not boding well for Fili.

"Balin, I cannot leave my brother's side in his time of need." Fili aggressively wipes the stray tears from his face. "He is my kin and I will not allow him to die."

"And do you think he will be pleased when he wakes up to find you dying?" Fili turns around to look at Balin with this comment. "You have got to take care of yourself too lad, otherwise a Durin brother may still die." Just as Fili is about to make another fuss, "I'll have them bring a second bed into this room." Balin and Fili nod at each other.

"Oh little brother, you and I can pull through this. We will make our mother proud."