A/N I'm not entirely sure where this came from but I felt the need to write it. It will be multi-chaptered but updates should hopefully be quick as the next parts are mostly complete. This was also an excuse to practice my (frankly pitiful) writing when it comes to scenery so any feedback would be appreciated :) I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I still don't own The Hobbit. Which is probably for the best...

Kili expected to experience pain when he awoke. His mind was hazy, weighed down by sleep, and he had grown so used to the warm comforts of darkness that waking seemed a daunting task.

He could remember a battle; the clang of swords, the roars of men, the dying screams of the fallen. He could remember a cool blade sliding into his flesh as easily as if it had been slicing bread, and then nothing. He'd let unconsciousness take him in the hopes that death would be swift, but that was all he knew.

Also, his brother was dead. That was a certainty – those particular memories remained preserved in agonising clarity. Perhaps that was what frightened Kili most. The thought of seeing Fili's pale, dead face beside him in the mud and the fiery agony that would ignite in his belly as sensation returned.

It was strange though, because he actually felt nothing.

Warily, he peeled one eye open before frowning in confusion. He was not where he had fallen, that much was certain. His head rested on an uncomfortable bed of twigs and dead leaves. The air around him was still, but icily cold, and his shaking hands fumbled around his leather coat in an attempt to shield himself from its bite.

With a groan, he raised himself into an upright position to find that, apart from the aches in his tired muscles, he experienced no other pains. His hands ghosted over his now intact abdomen and he laughed with pleasant relief at the absence of blood. It did not take long for his happiness to melt away however, as it once again became clear that he had not fallen here.

Wherever 'here' was.

Upon raising his head and taking in his surroundings, Kili suddenly felt very lost. He was in the middle of a woodland area, one that seemed to have withered with time. Skeletal, bare trees snaked from the ground and brittle whitened branches tangled overhead, blocking out most of the was bathed in an eerie blue light and a faint mist obscured his surroundings so that he could not see far ahead. Even his skilled eyes could not aid him in that moment.

At first he thought he must be dreaming still. It made no sense for him to be in this place. Had he been recovered from the battlefield he would have been taken to the warm halls of Erebor, and he would surely be dead if he hadn't.

And yet, the soil and browned leaves felt real and solid beneath his fingers. The cold was as fierce as the winters of his childhood in the harsh mountains had been. He took a breath and his lungs filled with air. His heart hammered in his chest.

He must be alive.

How much longer that would last remained uncertain.

Deciding that sitting on his arse would do little good – nor would it help determine his whereabouts – he shakily rose to his feet and surveyed the area. The wood was rather sparse and no obvious threat presented itself, but there was also no clear path to follow. Searching for one would have to be his main concern for now. He'd deal with wherever it led later.

With more difficulty than he'd have liked, he placed one foot in front of the other and began to set up a steady pace – one, two, one, two – and his footsteps caused the leaves to crunch underfoot and disturb the stillness of the wood. The still air continued to unnerve him. He knew from experience that no place was ever this calm, especially at night.

As if hearing his thoughts, a sudden breeze passed him by and he froze where he stood. Kili had heard something. A whisper, light as a breath, carried along by the slight wind. He listened attentively for more but the breeze died barely moments after it had picked up.

Regardless, he was certain that he'd heard someone call his name.

Picking up his pace, he ran in the direction of the strange call but it quickly became evident that his search would be fruitless. The dead wood stretched on and on, the landscape rising and falling but rarely changing. Annoyingly, the mist lingered so that he could never be certain of which direction he was headed and the pale blue light that seeped from the moon's rays was disorientating.

He swore under his breath. He could barely trust his senses, nor his surroundings. A tiny voice in his head haunted his frustrated mind, mocking his efforts. 'It's not real,' it sang. He almost wanted to believe it.

'Kili.'

He spun at the sound, his mind whirring. He knew that voice, even if he could not quite remember where he'd heard it. The need to answer its call gripped him like a vice and drove him onwards. It was an anchor to this world, a reminder of who he was. A tiny shred of proof that this place truly existed.

Not that he had any desire to stay.

After venturing for a few more miles, he began to grow increasingly suspicious. While he had grown used to long journeys of late, he was certain that he should be weary from travelling by now. He should also have experienced twinges of hunger and thirst and yet none came forward. So too should the sky have lightened as the hours passed, and yet his surroundings remained unchanged.

As still as a grave.

Not for the first time, Kili wondered if he truly had died.

A sudden chill answered his musings, but whether it acted as a confirmation or a denial he could not tell.

Kili cried out in frustration and sank to the ground with all the grace of a petulant child. He hated this place. He wanted the soft comforts of the Blue Mountains or the playful laughter that had echoed through the days of his childhood. He wanted the vast halls of Erebor and the green lands beyond it.

More than anything, he wanted his big brother.

Pain lanced through his chest and he rubbed forcefully at his eyes only to find his cheeks wet with tears. He could have sobbed if he'd had the strength. In time he would, he vowed silently. In time he would grieve for his loss; his brother deserved no less. But that time must wait.

After all, he had mysteries to solve in the meantime. Mysteries that did not concern the dead.