Typical fan-fiction disclaimer to say that I do not own Fili, nor do I own any of the other characters from Tolkien's work. I do however own the OC of this story Amber Porter.

Was this what it was like to die?

I could feel pain in every part of my body as if a thousand blades had pierced my flesh. How had it come to this? I could remember falling, the sickening feeling of my stomach dropping to the ground as it came up to meet me way too fast. I didn't remember the impact, all I remembered was the pain and then the sensation of cold drifting into every part of my body as the life ebbed from me. For a while, I had struggled against it - not wanting to accept that this was how it would end. They expected me to help my uncle retake Erebor, was supposed to fight by his side and come out the other side victorious.

I wasn't supposed to die, hadn't even expected to fall into such an obvious trap and be hurled from a tower by the enemy of my people.

But I couldn't fight this. Each breath had been harder to take as darkness settled into my mind and the chill grew deep in my bones. I'd done all that I could, had performed to the best of my skills, and the only thing I could do now was drift into whatever afterlife awaited my people. A quiet acceptance floated into my thoughts, a realisation that maybe this wouldn't be that bad.

The moment dragged on into infinity, the pain and chill gathering in every part of me, and then I took one last shuddering breath as my body finally gave up on me.

"Don't Close Your Eyes"

A voice in the blackness. It pulled me toward it, away from life as I had once known it and toward whatever waited beyond. It was soft and reassuring. Soothing my spirit after the shock of being parted from my body, and I just let my thoughts wander as I drifted toward the point where the voice had emanated ... could you call it 'thoughts' now I was dead? Maybe I should call it sentience instead? I didn't know. I'd had some lessons on what they presumed death to be like, but so far this was a lot different from what I expected.

It was peaceful at least, a world away from the noise and panic that I had experienced at the battle of the five armies so I couldn't complain. I just followed the sound of the voice, floating toward a point of warmth and light within the darkness that had now become my existence.

"No. Not going to die tonight!"

Another voice, a different voice - this one deeper than the other but still little more than a whisper in the wind. Wasn't I already dead? My body laid bent and broken on the battlefield. Perhaps that was my soul crying out, a last cry to whatever god might listen that I was far from ready to let go.

The illumination within the dark void still seemed so far away, and yet all too close at the same time - beckoning me toward it like a moth to a flame. I hesitated at that bright doorway, afraid to make that ultimate step into the warmth that awaited beyond, and yet unable to resist whatever siren call it had upon my soul. The pull was insistent, each tug sending a flurry of sensation through my spirit.

"Don't Close Your Eyes,"

The voice was back. It was louder and more insistent this time as it flowed all around my spirit. I could tell that it belonged to a woman now that I was closer to whom ever was talking. The speaker's tone was panicked and desperate, the indistinct voice occasionally rising in fever pitch as the pull at my soul intensified. I wanted to believe that someone on the battlefield was urging me to return to my body, which was ludicrous since no women had been at the battle and thus I pushed that thought away from my head. So who then was so worried for me?. I shifted my weight beneath me, an odd sensation when one didn't have a body to go with it, and tilted in toward the light at the same time as it came towards me.

No! Not yet, I wasn't ready! But there was no return now I had crossed the threshold.

A million fires burned in my nerve endings as the light forced its way into every part of my being. Burning heat would envelope my spirt one moment, only to be replaced by freezing cold and the distant sensation of warmth pressed itself in against my forehead. The familiar feeling of heavy limbs returned to my thoughts, a foreign phenomenon as my brain tried to make sense of what was happening.

Was I supposed to have limbs in the halls of my ancestors?

Fizzing sparks of electric shock bloomed in my fingertips, prodding at my brain as if trying to make it recognize that the limb belonged to my body. It felt attached, and yet not fully part of me - as if my spirit had yet to determine if it owned this fresh form or not. The distinct feeling of pressure built in my chest, compressing me until I felt as if I could take it no more, and then I took a shuddering breath. Mild panic fluttered through my body as my wandering thoughts snapped back into focus, heart pounding in my chest like a wild beast as my soul realised that it was within a body once again and recalled what it was like to live.

"Shhh, Relax,"

A sound of discontent bloomed into life in my throat. How was I supposed to relax? I had died! Or maybe I'd been in a coma and had been laying in the healing wing the whole time? My confused brain tried to sort out the facts, tried to find some explanation for what I had experienced and yet no answers came to my brain. The feeling of cool skin pressed against my forehead again, barely seeming to make contact, and yet it still quelled the rising panic attack.

"The fever has broken. That's good,"

A Fever? I'd had a fever? Well, it made sense if I thought about it. Fever wasn't uncommon with the injured as they fought infected wounds. The icy hand left my forehead all too quickly, my heart racing once more at the loss of sensation, but slowing when I felt a palm slipping in under the back of my head. My head was elevated and tilted somewhat forward, the sensation of something cold and wet being pressed to my lips. I could practically cry for joy as I felt water trickle into my parched mouth.

"Where am I?"

The sound of my voice brought with it further awareness of my body. My head felt as if it were a massive lump of iron ore, heavy and unbreakable. My eyes felt even heavier, as if during my sleep someone had welded them shut, and it took me an age to gain the strength to open them.

My vision was blurry at first, but each groggy blink brought more of her face into focus and allowing a better view of her. The first thought I registered was that she had the most remarkable hair style I had ever seen in my life. The top half of the woman's light brown hair was drawn up into a small bun which only drew further attention to the fact that the sides and back of her head were closely shaven. Her lips pulled into a firm line, the lower lip slightly turned inward as she worried at it with her teeth, and I briefly thought they looked rather kissable.

Mahal's sake. This was my healer I was thinking about here! The last thing the poor soul needed was to have her ward think of her in such a way.

I distracted myself by examining her face instead. The shape of said face could loosely be interpreted as triangular, wider at the forehead and tapering down into a narrow pointed chin. A well groomed brow was raised as if still contemplating my question and a pair of piercing blue eyes met my own.

"I found you collapsed in my back garden and dragged you inside. My name is Amber Porter and You're in my guest bedroom right now. Lord knows why I took you in, I should have called the cops you know."

She muttered something about her good dead for the week under her breath as another spike of panic made itself known. Back garden? Cops? I didn't know what either of those words meant. Come to think of it, even her accent sounded peculiar. The syllables were evenly stressed, with each 'r' trilled out in such a way that it made her sound melodic. My very shaky hand lifted to pinch the bridge of my nose, but could only reach halfway before my muscles gave out on me.

"Is this one of Kili's stupid jokes? Can you tell him it's neither the time nor place for it?"

The woman looked mildly amused by my words. I didn't know how my brother had roped her into this elaborate prank, what he had offered in return, but I was way past wanting the joke to be finished with.

"The alcohol must still be in your system. I told you, you are no longer at whatever hobbit themed party you've come from."

Her body eased back in her chair, her voice switching to a more vexed tone, and her arm moved to indicate the far corner of the room. A wooden chair was neatly arranged in the corner, with a folded pile of clothing resting upon it and what I recognised to be my sword angled against its arm.

"I had a look through your costume but found no phone, Do you have a next of kin I could contact?"

Phone? Next of Kin? What was she talking about? The feeling of breathlessness returned as the panic continued to bloom in my chest. If this was one of my brother's elaborate pranks, then it wasn't a very nice one to pull.

"Phone?. Mahal, what are you talking about?."

Ordinarily I would be ashamed to hear such fear in my voice, but I didn't have the mental fortitude to contain it. Her face softened as she turned to examine me once, though there was something in her eyes that said she must think me insane. My gaze wandered from her face to scan the room that I was in, almost immediately wishing that I hadn't for it did not resemble any room that I was familiar with. The walls were painted a calming shade of periwinkle blue that did little to calm me. Pale wood boards made up the flooring of the room, softened up by a rug that was color coordinated with the walls. The room was uncommonly bright, lit by some kind of magical item that hung from the white ceiling of the chamber.

"You really don't know what I am talking about do you? Do you at least remember your name?"

I couldn't pull my eyes away from the light, found myself entranced by it, and I wondered just what kind of wizard had the power to create such a thing. Somehow I summoned the strength to push myself up to a sitting position, the heavy sheets falling from my body and causing a sudden chill to wash over my body. The woman hadn't stripped me of all my clothing, thank Mahal for that, but my thin cotton jerkin did little to protect me from the cool temperature of the room.

"Fili, Son of Dis,"

I heard her inhale a sharp breath, the sound emphasized by her tongue clicking against the top of her mouth. Her movements were almost silent as she ran to press a steadying hand to the top of my arm. I had to close my arms against a wave of vertigo that had made itself known in my body. The horrifying thought I might not be in Erebor anymore crossed my mind. No wizard could create an illusion that was this strong, and healers were professional enough to know when a joke had gone too far.

"You must think I have lost my mind,"

The look on her face seemed to suggest such a thing. Air filled her lungs and then was let out in a long exhale as she guided my body back down into the bed. The cushioning against my back was both impossibly soft and yet firm all at the same time. Nothing like the stuffed straw mattresses that I had become used to. Everything about the room I was in set me on edge and I briefly wondered if it might have been better if I had lingered in the limbo between worlds.

"Yes ... No,"

Her voice sounded hesitant, her hand leaving my shoulder, and dropping to her side where it twisted into her loosely fitting short-sleeve shirt. There was no other way to describe the curious item of clothing. My eyes wandered against my will, wondering what else the woman was wearing, and then tearing my eyes away from her the moment I realised she was wearing what looked like a very short pair of brais. I'd never seen a woman in clothing that was so revealing before!

"I don't want to believe it. That you are just giving me some far fetched drunkards tale, but something keeps telling me it's not. You're the real deal? The real Kili?"

My head nodded, the movement causing the surrounding room to spin as the dizziness returned. Why on earth would I not be real? I tried not to laugh at the preposterous idea that I was some kind of impostor - then the sound died off.

"I ... I am not in Erebor am I?"

The sound of a body collapsing into a chair reached my ears, and I partially opened my eyes to look at the woman that was now slumped into the chair. Her face was impossibly pale and eyes wide in shock. I felt guilt gnaw into my heart at the sight. The gods of my world had dumped me on this poor woman, who must feel just as panicked as I did, and I had no words of comfort to give her. Her hand was rubbing at the back of her shaven head, as if trying to ward off an anxiety attack of her own.

"Mahal, Am I even in Middle Earth?"

Her eyes fixed on mine, apologetic as she finally confirmed my fears.

"No. Your not in Middle Earth anymore,"

Mahal preserve what was I going to do! I was on a strange world, with a woman that I didn't know, and there wasn't any way for me to go back the way I had come.

Song Inspiration : Not Gonna Die (+ Intro) = Skillet.