Rain was a bother.

Kili kicked his foot in the mud, filthy water spraying across the path and spattering his face. He spat the droplets away in disgust, swiping an equally grimy sleeve across his mouth and grimacing when he only succeeded in smearing more mud over his face.

By Durin's beard, he hated the rain. In an hour's walk he was soaked to the bone; shivering, wet and miserable, and cursing whatever cheeky pranks Fate had decided to curse upon his life. He was still an hour's distance from home - not counting the delays when he lost a boot in the slurping bog and fell over backwards trying to yank it free. Mum would have a fit when she saw the state of his clothes.

Scowling as icy rain water trickled down the back of his neck, Kili flung a limber branch out of the way, only to evoke a vile oath when it sprang back and struck him in the mouth. More droplets of water sprayed his face, and in a fit of distemper he bent the offending branch backwards until it snapped against the tree. Vaguely Kili considered that a few more drops of water should make no difference, as his coat and tunic were already sodden, but the rational part of his mind had fled when the first wave of a cloudburst had doused him.

Fili would probably have a fit of hysterics when his brother stomped into the house with a bright red nose and a sneeze fit to shake the roof. "I warned you not to check the traps today," he would tease, hopefully as he passed over a tankard of ale and a blanket to soothe Kili's ruffled nerves.

Kili had every intent to snarl and gripe to his heart's content. He would drink the ale, grab the blanket and fall into bed fully clothed, and he would not move for the next two weeks - or at least until this blasted cold he was developing went away. Of course, Mum would have his head for tracking muddy rainwater all over the floor, and if he were to soil the bedsheets...

With a sigh, Kili relinquished the thought of a two-week nap and focused his mind on a roaring fire, a piping hot bowl of stew with a chunk of thick, crusty bread to dip in it, and as many possible of those garishly colorful blankets his Mother so dotingly bestowed on her sons when they were ill.

The thought was slightly cheering, but it did nothing to alleviate Kili's misery as he blew into his chapped, blue tinged hands and clasped them tightly around his arms. What he would not give to steal Uncle Thorin's thick fur coat right now, or perhaps Bofur's freaky hat. The flaps were terrifying, certainly, but at least they would keep his ears warm. Durin's Bane, he felt as though a single touch would shatter the frozen cartilage. Not once in his life did Kili ever believe he could have longed for one of Ori's hand-knit "snoods," but if the choice was between the wind nipping his ears off or being teased mercilessly by Fili, Kili would gladly endure the humiliation.

Don't think about the cold, Kili reminded himself grimly, coughing harshly as the chill invaded his lungs. Think about Mum's stew, a nice mug of ale, and locking Fili outside the next time a there's a blizzard. Blazing hot fire - remember that? So much heat you'd think the forges were frosted over. And maybe a slice of thick venison - no, better make that two. And mutton, too, and maybe Mum'll have a pie ready with the last of the apples Fili brought home. Biscuits and more ale, and piping hot tea and cheeses and fresh bread and sausages and boiled eggs, and even one of those delectable sweet pastrires that Mister Bombur gave Mum - if Fili hasn't eaten them all, of course.

He was so busy concentrating on the imaginary feast that Kili failed to watch where he was going. One moment he strode on the firm if sodden terrain of the path, and the next minute his foot plunged straight into the ground. A squeak was all that Kili could utter before he fell forward, the forest floor giving way beneath him with a slurping, sucking sound. Vertigo claimed him and for an instant Kili was only aware of a blur of color as mossy green trees, grey skies and roiling, dark mud swirled around him. With a grunt of pain he smacked into the black mire, mud slathering his face and body as the force of his collision drove him several inches into the thick sludge.

With a lurch of panic Kili wrenched free of the clinging liquid, gasping for air and scrambling to his knees as globs of mud spattered around him. With a sickening squelch the ground overhead gave way, walls of liquefied soil sploshing around Kili as he raised his arms to protect his head. Pain spiked up his wrist and he instinctively drew it close, yelping as a clod of earth slammed into his shoulders and drove him onto his face once more. Sobbing for air, Kili kicked away from the center of the pit and huddled against the far wall, swiping thick wads of mud away from his mouth and nose as he watched the walls collapse around him.

For an instant he was certain he would be buried alive. No glorious death in battle or peaceful slumber awaited Kili, Son of Dis. No tomb of honor would be erected in honor of his heroic deeds. He would wallow in the mud of his burial ground, drowning in the cloying fingers of the earth. If his body was ever found it would be half decomposed already, and there would be no teasing from Fili this time. Kili loathed the chilling horror Fili would endure when they dragged his little brother's limp, bloated body from the sucking mud. Thorin would try and hide Dis from the reality of the facts, but she would know what had befallen her youngest. The degrading, abhorrent manner of his death would shame them all, for no Prince of Durin should allow himself to die in a cold, suffocating river of mud.

Just as Kili was wondering if they would even recognize his face in order to record the humiliating manner of his death, the cascading flow ceased and the pattering teardrops of rain sounded once more overhead. Cautiously Kili squinted out from beneath his raised arm, releasing a sigh of relief when he realized the seemingly endless flood had abated. Mud nearly a foot high clung to his knees as he shakily stood, and he swung out his arms for balance as he swayed. The muck shifted beneath him and Kili bit down on his bottom lip to stifle a cry, his eyes widening as he staggered against the wall and sank against it for support.

The fetid, black swill had soaked into his clothes and hair, and Kili found himself longing for the innocent spatters of rain that had annoyed him fifteen minutes before. He flicked as much mud from his fingers as he could before wiping the sludge away from his eyes, shaking himself vigorously to dislodge the worst of the muck from the rest of his body before regarding the impassable wall before him. Far over Kili's head the slick, glistening cliff face rose, taunting him with the futility of his efforts even before he attempted to climb.

Snarling at the mocking voice daring him to give in and accept his death with a shred of dignity and honor, Kili hurled himself at the sloughing wall and dug in his fingers, grasping for any manner of handhold to aid his escape. A root brush against his hand and he grabbed the spidery tendrils, hauling himself up two or three inches before the mud slithered underneath his boot and he fell onto his back. Mud closed over his face and for an instant visions of black mire dragging him under and seeping into his lungs filled him with a sense of horror and revulsion. With a lunge of desperation Kili tore free of the grasping sludge, gasping for air and frantically clawing the tar-like substance away from his mouth and nose.

The haze of panic cleared and Kili hugged himself for warmth, shivers of fear and cold wracking his shoulders as he greedily gulped deep breaths of pure, rain tinged air. Nerves were set afire in the wake of the adrenaline rush, and pain lanced down his palm as blood trickled down three small gashes where the roots had torn into his hand. Cradling his hand against his chest, Kili breathed sharply against the pain for several long moments before shaking his hair out of his face and pulling himself to his feet once more. Mud oozed between his fingers and slathered down his arms as he dug into the crumbling wall and tried to hoist himself further up. He shouted in frustration as his boot scrabbled into the eroding soil, unable to gain purchase before he slid down into a shivering, forsaken heap.

Despair filled Kili as he drew his knees up to his chest and craned his neck to see the brim of the pit. Hopelessness flooded him as he realized he might never get out after all. No one knew where he was. No one would come looking for him. He would die here alone, cold and forsaken, and no one would even realize he was missing until it was too late.

How Kili longed for the chance to go back and relive that morning. He should have listened to Fili's warning while he'd had the chance. He should have stayed home, toasting to death in the blissfully heated forges or even cleaning out the muck from the ponies' sheltered, dry stalls. He should be home right now, feasting on Mum's piping hot goat stew and a heaping plate of seven inch high biscuits, fresh out of the oven. Pillowing his head in his arms and sniffling hard as his nose ran from the cold, Kili envisioned his family and tried to remember their rightful places in the house at this exact moment.

Thorin would be returning from the forges in a few hours, mildly irritated that Kili had been lost in his own world and neglected his responsibilities in the forges again. Fili would enter soon after him and throw his soaked coat into the nearest corner before grabbing a full bowl and plate, pausing only to ask where Kili was and if Dis was sure he would be all right before wolfing down his supper. Mum knew her youngest son too well. She would worry, but she would understand that he often wandered several miles at a time if the fancy took him, and he might not return until darkness claimed the land.

They would continue on with their day in blissful ignorance, warm and happy and comfortable and completely unaware that their wayward youngest was slowly freezing to death in a pit rapidly filling with rainwater. A choked cry broke free and Kili hunched further into himself, clutching his throbbing wrist and trying not to lose his remaining dignity by bursting into tears.

They would never think to search for him until long after the waters closed over his head.

He would never even have a chance to say goodbye.

A sob was wrenched past his defenses and Kili pressed his forehead against his raised knees, shuddering as water lapped against his hunched shoulders. He knew he should stand up and try to stay above the rising pool as long as he could, but part of him wondered if it would be easier just to give up. He was so tired, and his forearm and palm were a sea of pulsing agony. Maybe it would be better to just slip free now, and let the frigid waters sweep him away in the gentle dreams of oblivion...

"Kii-liii..."

He could have sworn he heard Fili calling for him, and by this Kili knew that the merciful embrace of unconsciousness was not far away. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to relax the stuttering hitches of his breathing as water slapped against his lowered face. A shuddering gasp escaped him and Kili jerked away, shakily dragging himself to his feet and wrapping his arms around his torso. Mahal help him, he did not want to die yet. Not this way. Not now. Please, Fili, come find me. Please, I don't want to die here alone.

"Kili? Kili?"

Joy curled in a flame of warmth deep inside, and with a shivering smile Kili looked up expectantly for his brother. He cleared his throat painfully, wincing at the raw sensation before calling hoarsely, "Fee?"

Only a harsh whisper was emitted. With another lacerating grate against the mucus clogging his throat, Kili once more. "Fili!"

A jolt of panic shot through him as his voice refused to cooperate. Terrified that Fili would pass by him unseen, Kili slogged to the nearest wall and dug numbed and stiff fingers into the side, wailing softly in anguish as he realized he lacked the strength to raise even one foot off the ground.

Fili's voice continued to fade until it was cut off entirely from Kili's hearing. In despair he fell against the wall and sank to his knees, his head bent as the rain continued to plod in the tides that now rose above his bowed shoulders. Fili was gone. He was alone. No one would ever find him now, and Kili would die in this filthy hole, disgraced and so terribly, wretchedly alone.

"Kili!"

The voice was just above him now and Kili's head shot up. He sucked in a breath of disbelief, never more relieved and ecstatic to see his brother's dripping shock of blond hair.

"F-F-F-ee?" he lisped past clacking teeth, dragging one hand along the wall of his tomb as he reached out towards his brother.

"Kili!" Frantic worry cloyed Fili's voice, his shoulder dropping slack in relief as he saw his brother raise his head. "I'm coming down to get you!" he shouted above the wind, glancing around rapidly before scrambling to his feet. With a note of terror he added, "For Durin's sake, keep your head above the water!"

He vanished and Kili cried out, raking his hand along the silt covered walls as he searched in vain for his brother's returning form. No, no, no, don't leave me here! he screamed internally, his vocal chords useless to voice his panic. Fili, don't leave me here alone!

The end of a rope slithered over the top of the pit and wound over Kili's shoulders, the braided edges already soaked and muddied from the cascading storm. Kili stared at it in bewilderment, knowing that he should be using it to help himself somehow. His mind was too fogged with cold and pain to ascertain its purpose, however, and with a moan Kili rested his head back against the wall. A small wave broke over his chin and he clamped his lips shut to avoid a mouthful of water. He tilted his head slightly to prevent the liquid from clogging his nose, but did not attempt to stand once more. Why bother, when Fili's voice proved to be a dream echoing in his subconsciousness, and the only help offered was this coarse serpent poised to strangle him?

Muffled grunts raised Kili's curiosity and he marginally raised his head, cracking his eyes open to see what the commotion was about. Without warning Fili let go of the rope he was descending, landing on his feet and waving his arms wildly as he fought for balance. Kili gasped as water splashed into his face and he cast Fili an accusing glare, shivering convulsively as though the rivulets trickling down his face were an entirely new insult compared to the rain that had assaulted him before.

"Kili?"

Blue eyes filled with concern swam in Kili's vision. Fili cupped his brother's face in his hands, shaking him slightly and imploring, "Look at me, Kili. Don't do this to me now. Don't close your eyes, do you hear me? Stay awake!"

Understanding filtered past the clouds fogging his thoughts, and with a faint smile Kili whispered, "Fee..."

Fili let out a shaky breath, nodding rapidly and abruptly pulling Kili to his feet. "Stay with me, Kili," he ordered, fear putting a harsh note in his tone as he wound the rope under his brother's armpits and tied the knot securely between Kili's shoulders.

Kili winced slightly, perturbed that he could no longer sit down. Why was Fili forcing him to stand like this? It would be so much easier to rest if he were able to lay back for a few minutes...

Gripping his brother's shoulders tightly, Fili shook him once more and instructed, "I'm going to climb up for a minute, and then I'm going to pull you out of here. I promise, Kili, I'll be right beside you in a moment. Stay awake!"

Kili could not remember the last time his brother had seemed so frantic. He tried to place what was wrong, wondering what could have caused patient, level-headed Fili to lose control. Was it because of the rain? Rain was such a bother, and it made sense that Kili was not the only one who despised the bleak weather.

"Hate it," he whispered, twisting his face in an expression of pure loathing at the thought.

Fili hesitated, drawing closer and demanding softly, "What was that, Kili?"

"Hate it," Kili said again, fighting to keep his eyes open as his brother's form swam before his eyes. "Hate the rain."

Worry spiked through Fili's gaze once more and he clamped his jaw shut, nodding abruptly and grasping the rope above Kili's head. "All right, I get it," he said amiably, kicking off the mud wall and splattering Kili with more despicable mud. "You hate the rain. Just keep ... keep thinking about that, Kili. Don't fall asleep, whatever you do."

"Kay..." Kili murmured, his eyes roving closed before he remembered Fili's orders and jerked his head upright once more. More of the sticky bog slapped down onto his shoulders and he shuddered convulsively, hitching a yelp as it trickled underneath his collar.

"F-Fee?" he called, his teeth chattering uncontrollably as he sought for his brother. Destitute when Fili did not miraculously reappear, Kili whispered dejectedly, "...Fee..."

A tug on his shoulders broke Kili free of his despair and he sucked in a heaving gasp as his feet rose several inches above the ground. As though tenaciously grasping for its escaping prisoner, the mud clung to his legs and dragged against the force yanking Kili's arms from their sockets. Kili released a voiceless scream, certain for a moment that he would be torn in two. With a squelching 'pop!' the pit released him, however, and suddenly Kili was soaring through the air, silt flowing down his shoulders and torso as he was dragged against the wall.

He had no time even to cry out before he was pulled over the brim of the sinkhole, crumbling earth giving way to sparkling emerald grass as the terrible pressure against his shoulders ceased. For an instant Kili stared in breathless wonder at the majestic redwoods and ferns, clenching a handful of grass and moss in his fist as tears of realization trickled down his face.

He was out. He was not destined to die in the muck and the darkness of the pit. Fili had gone looking for him after all, and Kili knew that he no longer had to fear dying alone.

"Kili? Kili, don't go to sleep now!"

Hands grasped his shoulders and yanked him upright, and Kili laughed weakly despite the soreness in his throat as he met his brother's worried expression. Fili's eyes were wide and terrified as he tore off his cloak and wound it around his brother's shivering form.

"It's all right, Kee, I'm here. Are you hurt? We're going home; you'll be all right. Stay with me, Kili."

Kili whined low in his throat when the cloak bound him securely, standing as a barrier between him and his brother. Untangling himself from the soaked cloth, he flung one arm around Fili's neck and clung to him, unable to do anything but breathe and relax in his older brother's hold.

He was protected and loved, and Fili had come to rescue him. The pouring rain and the stench of tacky mire coating him no longer mattered.

He was going home.

.

.

.

Finis

.

.

.

As much fun as it would be to go into detail about Kili's ensuing cold and the misery accompanying it, this is not going to be a multi-chapter fic. This was the Muses' way of venting when they wanted a brief segment of torture for their favorite chew toy. ;)

As always, I do not own the rights to the Hobbit or anything related to Tokein's works. Nor do I own Ori's "Snood," which the Mini-muse stole from uncer giedd geador's fic "Wagers," chapter 11.