Trapped

Prompt: Fíli goes hunting and doesn't return. Kíli and Thorin save the day.

OP: chestry007

…

The sky is gray and overcast when Fíli heads out to check his traps, heavy clouds hinting at an evening of rain. The air is crisp and cool, the coming of autumn a welcome respite from the heat of the summer sun. Fíli takes his time walking through the thick forest to where he laid his snares. It's a pleasant day and he's grateful to be out of the forge, enjoying the fresh mountain air for a change.

He pauses on the outskirts of a meadow, taking in the lush view of the trees with their leaves just starting to turn golden at the tips. The thick brush at the edge of the treeline conceals half a dozen carefully placed rabbit snares. Humming softly to himself, Fíli makes his way to the first marker and frowns upon seeing the trap has been set off, but is empty. The second trap hasn't been touched, but the third yields a fat hare that will make for a hearty stew.

The leaves blanketing the ground around the fourth snare look as though something large and cumbersome has been trampling around beneath the trees. Fíli moves cautiously, not hearing anything to suggest that whatever-it-was is still nearby, but careful none-the-less. Creeping closer to the snare, he falters as the ground slips out from beneath his feet, and then suddenly he is falling- down, down, down...

Fíli crashes through something on his way to the ground- sharpened sticks planted to skewer whatever manner of breast falls prey to the trap. One of the pikes rips into his side, thick flesh and sinew being torn asunder as the weapon wedges itself deep into the muscle. Another pike tears at his thigh, catching on bone and leaving his leg suspended at an odd angle.

He screams at the initial assault, pain searing his nerves raw as he contorts his body in a hopeless attempt to free himself from the spikes. His pulse pounds in his veins, causing the edges of his vision to blur as the adrenalin rushes through his body. Help! Somebody! Anybody! Please! Fíli's voice breaks and he chokes on bile as one of the pikes cracks under his weight, shifting his body and driving the spike deeper into his side. He starts to scream again, but gives up with a broken sob, knowing there is no one close enough to hear him.

Turning his head to the side, Fíli vomits into the dirt, purging his stomach of breakfast and no small amount of bloody bile. He gags and blanches at the sight, knowing it bodes poorly for his chances of survival. He inhales a deep, steadying breath and takes stock of his surroundings. The pit he has fallen into is twice his height and narrow enough that he is wedged awkwardly into the bottom of it. He can't reach the spike impaling his leg, but can see the dark rivulets of blood soaking the fabric of his trousers and forming a dark puddle in the dirt below. The wound on his side is easy enough to see and reach, though he half wishes it weren't. Pale bits of grizzled muscle jut out from the lesion, interspersed with snapped cords of tendons. Fíli carefully presses a hand to the wound and winces as he watches the blood bubble up beneath his fingertips. Sobbing out in pain, he moves enough to remove his tunic, tearing the fabric into long strips and wrapping them as tightly as possible around his midsection.

The ground beneath his body is sticky with blood and he preys to Mahal that he won't bleed to death all alone. Drifting in and out of consciousness, he wonders how long it will take Kíli to note his absence. Checking the traps should have taken mere hours, surely by nightfall his brother will come. Fíli struggles to hang on as the darkness finds him again.

…

When Fíli comes to the sky is black, though he has no way to know if it's from the nighttime or the clouds hanging threateningly above him. He tries to move, but quickly gives up as he finds his body too weak to cooperate and the pain too agonizing to handle. Reaching a hand to check the bandages on his side, Fíli sees them come away slick with blood, but can no longer feel the digits. He sobs bitterly, head lulling back against the dirt in resignation. There is nothing he can do except wait and prey and try not to bleed out before his brother rescues him.

And then the rain starts.

The rain doesn't begin to fall so much as the sky simply opens up and heaves its contents upon the world below. One minute Fíli is laying in a sticky mass of blood and dirt, the next thick torrents of water are cascading down the sides of his prison. There is too much rain for the ground to take in, and so it swells on the surface, slowly building up until it covers the hand bracing him on the dirt floor. The air in the pit is suddenly too thick to breath, as panic sets in. The wet darkness robs him of his sight and leaves him feeling hopeless and done-for and all alone.

Fíli is pinned to floor of the pit, completely prone as the water crests over the edge of his hip. In this moment, he truly believes that it will not be the blood-loss that kills him, but that he will die slowly as the rainwater smothers the breath from his lungs. Dwarves are raised with the notion that an honorable death is nothing to fear, but this is not honorable, and Fíli is afraid.

Suddenly there are voices in the distance and he screams with everything that he has left, hoping to alert them to his presence. The wound in his side throbs with exertion, sending waves of fiery pain wracking across his body. The voices stop for a moment, then intensify, calling his name with the single-minded panic reserved for worried family. Fíli yells back to them, wordless sounds that tear from his throat in a series of shrieks and sobs and inarticulate begging.

There is a light above him and a broken sob as Kíli scrambles his way in to the pit with a prayer of Fíli please. He tries to reassure his brother, but all words are lost amongst the weeping and relief of being found. Thorin curses as he lowers a rope into the pit and climbs down, boots splashing in the growing pool of muddy rainwater. Fíli's wounds are inspected by lamplight and he finds himself held bodily in place by Kíli as their uncle loosens his leg from the pike. Screaming his throat raw, Fíli claws for purchase against his brother's back as everything blanks out in wake of the pain.

…

Fíli awakes safe and dry in his own bed, with the comforting presence of his brother's weight beside him. His mind is muddled with foggy pain, but a quick check tells him that his wounds have been dressed and he still possesses all of his limbs. Thorin sleeps in a chair beside the bed, dark rings present around his eyes, and his head resting heavily against the wall. Fíli shifts slightly and whimpers in pain, the sound causing his brother to bound immediately awake. Kíli smooths the hair back from his face and quietly promises him that he'll be fine and just needs to rest. That assurance is all he needs, wrapping his fingers around his brother's hand, Fíli drifts off to sleep.

...

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