The pyre was a simple one; far too simple considering who Frerin was.
Thorin sat cross legged upon the stale grass, caring not if he sat upon dying blood, and viewed the shabby pyre for a moment more.
He was tired and his body ached; he had said nothing of it, but he could tell some of his ribs were broken and was almost certain that his forearm, the one that wielded the oak branch against the filthy beast, had been damaged as well.
He'd have his injuries treated soon enough but for now, a more pressing and devastating task lay waiting before him to fulfill.
Suddenly, Thorin took a sharp breath and stiffened, and his very soul went cold.
Upon the makeshift pyre lay not an almost adult Frerin, but Frerin as a boy. His dwarrow self.
Thorin blinked, bowed and shook his head. Looking back up, he realized, He'd hallucinated. A side effect, no doubt, from all that He had endured coupled with the raw grief growing inside of him.
Thorin pinched his nose and breathed slowly in and out for a moment just as a ghost memory came to the forefront of his mind.
A smirk danced on his lips and he muttered: "Got your shadow."
It had been a childhood game, Frerin's favorite, that the two of them had often played when relieved of their studies and weapons training.
They chased each other in circles; in rooms where the light was good and made their shadows easy to see.
Frerin had proven the better, the faster and often Thorin would laugh when his little brother's foot stamped upon his long shadow and the little prince cried "Got your shadow again!"
Those moments were often brief but, Thorin realized, they were the most cherished parts of his childhood.
Frerin had started to play the game with Dis not long before the fall of Erebor, the fault of that damn dragon, and still he'd proven the better player. Much to Dis' frustrations.
Sniffing Thorin rose and looked into the dusky sky for a moment; wondering over many things but, most of all, whether or not they could see him now.
"Forgive me," He whispered, "There is no other way."
Balin had brought and thrust the torch into the bloody earth himself before departing long ago and now Thorin eyed it with great emotion.
Looking back the pyre at rogue thought invaded his head; 'Wake up!' He thought desperately, 'Please Frerin wake up…don't make me go back alone!'
A sinking feeling settled within the prince as the tears began to burn at the back of his eyes and as he shook his head and hurriedly retrieved the torch.
Standing before the pyre, the pleasant memory haunted him once more and a devastating realization nearly crumpled him.
'Got your shadow,' Thorin thought as he approached the oil soaked wood, 'that's all I have you now, Brother. That's all I have of anyone or anything.'
Thorin thrust the torch into an opening at the bottom and dropped it; observing the rising flames as he sank to his knees, the prince's mind was overcome completely.
As the body wracking sobs took him fully, Thorin recalled a great many bittersweet moments.
Nothing now, save for cherished shadows, of a peaceful past.