You're all going to hate me for this, I can already tell. But no flames, please. I promise there's a method to my madness.

-S. S.

Kili's hand was cold as ice when I awoke in the grayish light of pre-dawn. I could not have been asleep for long, as I had had trouble keeping my concerns at bay long enough to rest. Re-lighting the lantern, I saw him clearly. His dark hair was drenched in sweat, plastered to his forehead and beginning to dry. His skin was a sickly grayish color, clammy to the touch, and his lips were slack. There was no response when I shook him, no answer when I called his name. He was dead.

I stared at his body in shock. My brother…my little brother…dead because I had been too timid to wake someone for help. Gandalf had turned back to Rivendell as soon as Kili had been settled…without his aid Kili never would have stood a chance to begin with. Perhaps it was inevitable.

Memories I thought I had forgotten came flooding back as I continued to stare dumbstruck at his corpse…Kili and I running wild through all of Ered Lurin…before we knew of the burdens we would have to bear…just children, not heirs to the throne. The way he used to smile at me cheekily, when he was imitating me in my weapons training. "Am I doing this right, Fee?" he would ask. "Am I good?"

You're good, little brother. You've always been. I didn't realize I was weeping until my tears fell on Kili's tunic, darkening the blue to black. For the second time in as many days, I felt an overwhelming shame in betraying my roots. Sniveling like a child did not suit a future king. I suppose I had felt some measure of sadness when my father died, but I was a child then. The grief I felt now was beyond measure, manifesting as a physical pain which tore at my chest and made it difficult to breathe. Before I knew what happened, I had released an animalistic howl which woke everyone.

Several seconds of the company trying to figure out what was going on followed. They must have feared an orc raid, some of them grabbed for their weapons. But before I could make a move, they were huddled around Kili's bed and my shuddering body. Bofur and Ori held me back as Thorin and Oin made their way through the crowd.

"Get off me!" I shouted, shaking them off. "Let me be!" I had humiliated myself beyond measure, and I knew Thorin would have some choice words for me later.

I grabbed a lantern and stormed off through a tunnel deeper into the mountain, away from my companions who swarmed around Kili's body like birds of prey who had found a fresh carcass.

"Fili!" someone shouted after me. "Fili, where are you going?"

Away, I thought. Away from you. Away from things I didn't want to see or be a part of. As I plunged deeper into the darkness, tears coursing down my face, cursing myself, I realized I had lost my inner strength. I had always been there for Kili, but little had I known my strength came from my need to protect him. I had nothing left to protect now. Gasping for breath a long ways away from the party, I sat against the wall resting my fingers on my forehead, gathering my thoughts. My face grew hot at the memory of the scene I had just caused. Would it ever fade? How would I face them again, and why was I acting this way? It seemed as though nothing would ever be the same.

I had recovered, for the most part, when I heard footsteps approaching, and not soon after, Bilbo appeared, carrying a torch. He was bold enough to sit down beside me, considering what I'd done to him yesterday.

"Mr. Baggins," I greeted, my voice grating harshly. "How many times must I explain this? Why must you be everywhere you're not wanted?"

"Everyone is looking for you," he said.

"What for? I was only here to look after my brother, and now he's dead. So why now is it so urgent that they need me?" I snorted.

"I don't believe that was your only purpose," he suggested. "You're one of the best fighters we've got."

"I'm only here because my battle-crazy fool of a brother wanted to come on this expedition. I'll let you in on a little secret, Mr. Baggins. I'm more like you than you know."

"How so?" asked the hobbit.

"I would prefer to live in peace, away from confrontation. I'm nowhere near as contentious as anyone in our company, especially Thorin. And someday I have to take his place as king and defend Erebor…if Erebor is ever reclaimed." Sighing, I hung my head in embarrassment. "Kili would have made a better king than me, the cheeky git."

"You're not like me," he argued. "You're used to this…not having a home." I glared at him. "Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean…"

"You didn't have to say," I replied. "Let me guess—you think dwarves are uncouth, uneducated, dirty folk, am I right?"

"Well, I…I don't know much about dwarves, but that was my general impression, yes." He admitted. I was slighted by his low opinion, now that he'd actually voiced it. "You all did sort of…destroy my house."

I smirked at that, when I thought I would never smile again. "We like to have a good time. It's hard to do in a space so small. Besides, it was fun to annoy you a bit."

"That's your idea of fun, is it? Well…" he blustered for a moment, fumbling over his words in frustration. "Well." he finally conceded. "I suppose that's neither here nor there."

"You're right, it isn't." I said. "So, what is it that you wanted to tell me? Or are you just here to offer your condolences?" My heart sank again to think about it. We'd been having a half-decent conversation, too.

"No," he said plainly. And I found myself hating him once again.

*sniff* :'(

Poor Fili and Kili...

Still not sure if his reaction was appropriate or if it was a bit...much. He is a badass warrior, after all.

But then again, he did love his little brother. 3

And now I have thoroughly depressed myself. This was a hard chapter to write.

Reviews?