AN 3/8/2016: Enjoy! Also, Happy International Women's Day!
Within two more days, the total number of sick was 46, 32 children and 14 adults. Thorin Oakenshield divided his time with taking care of Kíli, who was increasingly more distraught, and trying his best to calm the dwarves of the Blue Mountains.
They were growing angrier and angrier as more of their kin were falling ill. Outraged parents blamed Thorin for the state of their dwarflings, and the dwarf healers could do little to help the sick. They knew not what the sickness was, nor how it spread, how it could be prevented, and most importantly, how to cure it.
Fíli sat next to his brother's bed. He had hardly noticed that he hadn't slept in days. His brother needed him. His mother needed him. He would not have her keel over by being the only other person looking after Kíli.
Kíli was his responsibility, as well. That was why he stayed with him, regardless of the healers warning him of getting sick as well. The only thing they had told him that he listened to was covering his nose and mouth with a cloth whenever he visited Kíli, which was frequently.
Paying the proper respect to the kin of Durin, the healers tried to please Thorin by giving his youngest sister-son a private and spacious room. This was covering up for the fact that they could do nothing more for him than they could for anybody else.
The chills had begun to set in and Kíli was shaking like a leaf. Fíli wished that he could do more. He wished that he could take the pain away, that he could find some perfect cure and his brother would suddenly spring out of bed and would be able to keep down his food.
"Fíli?" he opened his eyes, which had a dewy glaze over them. His skin, which was usually bright and full of color, was disturbingly pale.
"Yeah, Kíli?" Fíli spoke strongly through the cloth.
"I'm cold." Kíli's voice was barely that of a whisper and was thick with dryness. No matter how much he drank, he was always thirsty.
"I know."
"Sometimes I'm cold, and sometimes...it's like I'm on f-fire. What's happening to me, Fíli?"
"I don't want to lie to you. We don't know what's going on with you yet, but we will," he promised. "Whatever this is, we'll- I'll figure it out. I promise you, brother. I will figure it out."
"...Will I die?" he asked suddenly. Even in this state, Kíli did not have a filter. It was actually a good sign. It meant that is spirit was intact.
"Of course not," Fíli replied without thought. He was not letting himself even exercise that possibility in his brain.
A coughing fit attacked Kíli and more chills wracked his frame with violent shivers. Fíli pulled the blanket further up his brother's body and tucked them under his chin. "Get some sleep. I'll figure it out."
"Okay, Fíli." Satisfied, Kíli drifted back off into sleep and the door opened.
Thorin stood in silence, smiling softly when he caught sight of his sleeping nephew. "He was always a restless sleeper," he said quietly, speaking more to himself, although he was addressing Fíli.
"In the winter, your mother would wrap him tightly in three thick blankets, and by the morning he would always find his way out of them. I have never seen him sleep motionlessly until this week."
"I noticed that, too," Fíli said grimly, pulling the cloth down to his neck.
"Have you slept at all?" Thorin asked.
"Some," he lied. "In any case, it does not matter. This is more important."
"You are no use to him half-alive," his uncle stated impatiently, tapping his right foot.
"What if he needs me?" Fíli countered. "What if he gets scared, and calls out for me, and I don't come to him down because my excuse is 'I was sleeping'?"
"Your mother can watch Kíli, if you agree to accompany me to a council meeting."
Fíli blinked in mild shock. "You have never let me attend any of those. You always said that it wasn't my place to get involved with things just yet."
"But things are getting involved with you, Fíli. Your brother is sick. This is your problem. I would you like to come with me."
He glanced at his brother and then looked back up at Thorin with desperate eyes. They were a pastel blue, same as his uncle's, same as his mother's. It was the only physical trait of his that was not similar to his father's.
And, ironically, one of the only physical traits that his father had given Kíli were his eyes. Aside from that, and some said his smile, Kíli took after the Durin side like nobody could deny.
Sometimes this bothered Fíli. He was Thorin's heir, but he looked like his father, who had only been a commoner. He was not ashamed of that fact, only aware of it. "But what if-?"
"Do you think your mother incapable of taking care of him?"
"No."
"Then, let her." Thorin motioned to the door. "Come with me, Fíli. Please."
It wasn't a word that his uncle used often. It wasn't a word that any dwarf used often. He nodded and sat up. With one last look at Kíli, he let his mother in the room. She pulled back her raven colored hair into a tight ponytail and smiled at her eldest son.
"You've done more than enough, sweetheart. He knows that. I appreciate your dedication." She looked to Thorin. "Both of your dedication."
"It's my duty, as well."
Thorin nodded, agreeing with the statement. Dís took the seat that Fíli had previously occupied and smoothed the sweat-soaked hair of her youngest.
"Go ahead," she told them, needing this moment with her ill son.
With that, uncle and sister-son left the healing house to attend the council meeting. The oliphaunt in the room would undoubtedly be discussed: How to rid Ered Luin of the deadly fever.
It's shorter than the usual chapters, I know. I'm a horrible person.
