038: Touch
Fili can't breathe.
In the darkness, it's impossible to know if they're alive or dead.
Darkness swallows the tunnel. Its shroud lies thicker and deeper than night, and even the air is heavy and sluggish, stale and rank with dragon-stink.
Dwarves were born to live with the weight of stone over their heads, but none of them are comfortable here, so near to the dragon's lair. Blind and restless, they huddle and try to sleep while the wyrm circles the skies overhead.
Fili can't breathe.
His coughing ruptures the stillness. It doesn't help. This air clogs in his lungs like ash and he wonders, not for the first time, how long until the mountain stifles them.
Thinking on it doesn't help his quickening breaths. Fili feels light-headed.
Maybe he is stifling.
"Brother?"
Kili touches his arm in concern.
Fili makes a choked sound in response. It's too dark to see him. Too dark to tell how close the walls have gotten.
He swears they've gotten closer.
Warm hands on his face distract him. Pull him back to the place where he's still alive, if only for now. In the darkness, Kili presses their foreheads together. Holds him.
"Brother, I'm here," Kili whispers. "Always."