Long chapter this time. I don't know what happened with my last chapter. It shows up as having been posted, but the lack of reviews and the fact that I never got an email notification make me think that no one saw it.

Or it could be that this story sucks. I showed it to a friend of mine who also writes fan fiction and that is verbatim what she said to me. Apparently it's because of my lack of a plot.

So I'll try to get this story back on track rather than have Fili just hanging out in Rivendell. This should be the last chapter he's there. I'll get the ball rolling in the next one.

I never made it to Bree. The next morning when I woke up, my head throbbed with a fierce ache as did every muscle and joint in my body as well as my throat. I had made myself ill by sleeping in the cold in wet clothes. I knew I should have built a fire.

What's more, when I reached for my pack I found most of the food and my water container had been stolen. I had been worried about wild animals attacking, when really I should have worried about thieves. I could not continue my journey without water, the ride last night had been exhausting enough and I had ben parched by the time I stopped. There was a creek somewhere near here, I knew, for I had led my horse to it last night.

Head throbbing, I led the horse by the reins and staggered about looking for water. Eventually I found it, and, rather than being sensible and drinking from my hand, I submerged my head. At the very least, it woke me up, but it did nothing for my condition. As soon as I removed my face from the water, I sneezed eight times in a row and coughed up a clot of mucus nearly as big as my fist. Infection had already set in. No wonder I was miserable. I could hardly breathe, a terrible, ragged sound it was when I tried.

Maybe I would rest awhile longer, I thought, as I led the horse back up the slope. I had barely reached the top when I sank to my knees, exhausted, and was enveloped in darkness. I neither saw nor heard anything more for quite some time.

"Here! He's over here!" a familiar voice called, then shouted something in a language I could not understand.

I cracked my eyes open painfully to see two blurry forms on horseback standing over me.

"Please…leave me…" I panted. "I have nothing of value. No money…no food…nothing."

"But you have a horse," one of them said.

"Please…I'm on my way to Bree. Let me alone. I have nothing you want."

"That is not entirely true," said the other.

It was the last thing they said before I was hoisted up under the arms into the saddle and tied there, with my hands bound at the wrists. The reins were taken from me as my head slumped against the horse's mane. And I lost consciousness again.

I awoke in a bed, clean, dry, and warm. It still pained me to breathe, but at least my nose had cleared a bit. Someone was in the room with me. I could sense them.

"Where am I?" I asked blearily. "What happened?"

"You gave us a fright, Fíli. We thought you were done for! The way you prattled on and on about how you didn't have any money, someone had already stolen your food, please leave you alone…"

"Elrohir?" I propped myself up on my elbows as best I could and blinked the crust from my eyes. "How did I get back, and why did you tie me to the horse?" So many words sparked a coughing fit, and I hacked until my chest ached.

"Father bade us follow you. Careful," he warned. "You've got an awful catarrh that could turn into consumption or pneumonia if you're not careful."

"Don't scare the boy," said his brother, entering the room. "It's just a bad cold. You'll be over it soon enough."

"You did burn with fever, though." countered the other. "Which is why we've been instructed to give you this." He handed me a goblet full of thick amber fluid. Honey, I thought, or some sort of spirit. I took it from him and drank it in one go, and almost retched. It was bitter enough to make my tongue curl. Bile rose in my throat as I gagged and wheezed.

"What was that?" I managed to choke.

"Cough linctus," he said simply. "We've been pouring it down your throat for two days."

"Ugh," I gagged. "What's it made of?"

"Erm…hard to say. It's mixed according to the patient's needs. I can tell you that this one contains wormwood."

Well, that explained why the room was spinning and the walls bled purple. My head sank back on the pillow as my vision grew fuzzy. The twins retreated, and I was left alone. I was in Rivendell…I had been here two days…I was ill…but there was another reason I was here, I knew it. But what was it?

My eyesight faded and I fell asleep with a name on the tip of my tongue.

I stood at the brink of a deep, dark chasm. Voices wailed up from its depths, calling my name. Weakling, they said. Not of our kind. You're not welcome here. Backing away, I was met with a moving, solid, almost breathing wall of—something. No, it was breathing. A great, massive dragon sat atop a pile of gold, asleep, tendrils of smoke curling from its nostrils. I backed away quickly, too quickly, for it felt my presence and woke up, leering at me and revealing two rows of glittering, sharp teeth each longer than my arm. Lowering its head to my level, it opened its mouth to devour me. I closed my eyes and awaited the inevitable, as I was unarmed. But to my surprise, it spoke.

"Try your hand at besting me, Dwarf." It said.

Then it opened its mouth, and with a flick of its tongue, swallowed me whole.

I awoke drenched in sweat, panting. My fever seemed to have broken, and the evidence was soaked into the sheets. A perfect outline of my sweaty form lay in a tortured, contorted position on the bed linens. It was to my great embarrassment to discover that I had also urinated on myself—the fine sleep tunic I had been lent was stained yellow. Shamefully, I pulled the thick quilt up to my chin and burrowed into sweat and filth, wishing I could just disappear.

It could have been minutes or hours that had passed before someone entered the room again. I neither knew nor cared. With the covers drawn over my head, I feigned sleep. Or death.

"Both of them are ill now," said a man's voice. "Your brothers tell me they found him unconscious with fever halfway to Bree. I would not advise you to enter, Lady. He is not in a good state." Indeed I wasn't. And who was this Lady the healer spoke to?

I didn't have to wait long to find out. She drew near my bed and pulled back the covers from my face.

"Hello, Fíli." said Arwen. Damn. She knew I wasn't asleep. I merely groaned in reply and pulled the quilt back over my head.

"Don't pester him so," the healer warned her. "They say he has become violent."

From under my hiding place, I scoffed. What did he know of violence? My actions were merely those of frustration. But I had forgotten, elves were such perfect, faultless beings. They never lost their tempers. If Kíli wasn't incapacitated in a sick room of his own, I would have jumped out of bed and left, not caring whether or not I was sick. Let the elements have me and finish me off. It would certainly be a less cruel fate than I had received from my own kin.

"Please, leave us." she argued. "I think I may be able to get him to speak."

Like a common prisoner, I thought. Footsteps retreated, and no sooner than they had, Arwen drew the covers from me again.

"I know you tried to leave," she said.

"Who doesn't?" I sneered. "The entire household knows." Something like shock passed across her face, and I felt sheepish. "I'm sorry. I was stupid."

She sat down next to me and laid a hand on my shoulder. "I want to help you. You planned on following them?"

I rolled onto my back and propped myself up on my elbows. "Actually," I said, "I was headed in the opposite direction. Your brothers didn't tell you?"

"No, but the healer did." she replied. "But it's good that you're remembering things. What were you going to do west?"

I crossed my arms over my chest and looked down at my lap. I couldn't meet her gaze. "I had the foolish idea that I would go to the coast, perhaps get passage to Valinor."

Acting on what I took to be impulse, she gripped my hand. "The Undying Lands? Why would you want to go there?"

Sighing heavily, I tightened my arms, as if my own grasp could protect me from what I was about to admit. "Because I don't want to die," I admitted. "Not…not like that. In battle, surrounded by blood and enemies and my fallen kin." I dared not name the enemy I feared most. My head dropped into my hands almost by its own accord. "I'm frightened. I'm a coward."

"You faced your uncle's anger to be with your brother and give him comfort," she said. "You are no coward. But if you truly feel that way, why don't you stay in Rivendell?" she inquired, focusing her gaze on me. "It is peaceful here."

"I left in part because I disrupted that peace. I was ashamed. Who has ever heard of a dwarf among elves?"

"But you are welcome here." she stated simply.

"Besides," I sighed. "It's not just that. It's a matter of pride. I'm an heir of Durin, for Mahal's sake! I've already ruined enough. Thorin has all but disowned me. Perhaps if I were to follow him, I could earn his respect again."

"Whatever you decide," she responded with a graceful shrug. "I'm willing to assist you should you need it. But regardless of if you leave or stay, you must heal first."

Such maddening creatures were elves. Their answers were always ambiguous.

With that, she got up and left. After some thought, I was resolved in what I would do—what I must do, if I were to ever respect myself again.

I sank back onto the pillows with a plan in mind, but no matter how hard I tried, sleep would not come. I felt a troubling suspicion that I would never belong anywhere again.

Hooray for chapters longer than 800 words.

Please review or PM. I really want to know if this story is bad so I can fix it. :(

-S. S.