The days pulled on and Fili's fever only got worse. Thorin couldn't get his son to keep broth down, all of the herbs that Gandalf gave him and what he pulled from Kili's satchel had been used up. He tried wetting his head and covering him in blankets but he still burned with a sickness that made all the healers shake their heads and look away. Even Gandalf.

Thorin resorted to holding his little boy, singing songs of comfort as he shook in his arms. Fili was feather light, he smelled of a terrible sour tart scent that Thorin had only smelled a few times before in his life when someone died of a sickness. Then, one day, Fili didn't wake up. He was breathing, his heart beating, but he would not wake.

The proud King Under the Mountain choked on a cry. He brushed seat soaked locks out of Fili's face. All the songs he sang gave no comfort, all the water on that hot brow did nothing. The herbs were gone. He had nothing left. So he resorted to one last thing.

He begged.

"Please," his voice was humbled, quiet and small. He took Fili's hand into his own. "Please, Frerin... I don't know what to do... You always knew what to do, please tell me how to-" his voice cracked, a sob dropping from his lips. "I can't do it." He blinked rapidly looking up at the ceiling as if he could feel the sky outside. "I can't..."

He reached over stroking Fili's face, his chin quivering. He wasn't a king here. He was no mighty warrior. He was a father, one that didn't want to let go.

Large tears rolled down his cheeks as he finally came to the thought that if Fili did not wake in the morning, he would be stiff like clay. His thoughts pulled to his brother, "Take care of him for me... until I can be with you both."

He took in a shuddering breath, letting the tears fall as he continued to pet his son's face. There, he stayed, the ticking of light rain falling onto the small hut. Even the rain sounded like someone was crying. So soft, so sad.

It was late at night, the rain still drumming softly down, when Fili woke. He tried smelling the air but all he could get was a thick pressure in his head that caused a cough followed by a dry heave. He padded his hand on the bed finding the soft hair of his father. With little energy he rolled over, gripping hard onto Thorin's hair. He was going to miss this hair… miss his papa's face that scratched his with his beard. He was going to miss Kili more, his smile and laugh, even his temper tantrums.

He didn't want to go, even though he had the feeling he had to.

Hands came around him from behind and he was being picked up. He clung onto Thorin's hair. He didn't want to go! He wanted to stay!

"No." He weakly protested.

"Shh, it's okay." A large hand came down uncurling his fingers. "Let him sleep." That hand then went to Thorin's cheek, caressing the red streaks that was evidence of how long Thorin had cried his grief. Fingers stroked Thorin's hair out of his face. "See, your udâd is tired, he's been caring for you for a while now and needs some rest. So, I'll care for you in his stead."

Fili looked up at who was holding him, his hair just as blond and wild as Fili's. He had such pretty eyes, brown and warm. "Who are you?"

"Someone that loves you, Kili, and Thorin very much." He stood up fully, adjusting Fili. He felt at home with him. Fili rested his head on that chest, it felt so nice, almost like a mother's breast. The man's free hand went through Fili's hair feeling the heat. "We need to get your fever down my lad."

The stranger took Fili outside, fog casting an ethereal mask upon the world. The rain felt like rocks hitting him from how hot the child burned. Fili pressed his face against the man's chest making a string of uncomfortable noises. If it was another time and his fever was not so bad he may have noticed some things about him, how he resembled Thorin. How he was slightly transparent in a strange way that made him solid yet an illusion all together. He may have also noticed his ability to smell and how Fili found that he smelled nice, like freshly tilled soil, it reminded him a lot of Kili but there was something else to his smell, something… different.

"Is Thorin a good papa?" He asked Fili.

He nodded. "Mm hmm. But he's really sad at times... it gets hard to make him smile."

A cheek was pressed to the top of Fili's head. "He has gone through a lot, and he will go through more, but do your best to stay with him little one."

"Okay."

The man took him to a little creek where he stepped in, holding Fili tight as he waded until the water was up to Fili's chest. The boy screamed from how the cold of the water hurt his fevered body.

"Shhh, shhh, easy yourself. I have you." A wet had went over Fili's hair in soothing strokes. He waited until most of the screams ended, dulling down into pained whimpers. "Why don't you ask me some questions?"

The distraction was welcomed, though hard to fulfill. Every possible question that came to him quickly fled in the wake of the discomfort of his body. Finally he pushed out, "What's your name?"

"I have a few names… like you do."

"What do you mean? I'm Fili."

He smiled at Fili knowing so much more than the boy. "I was called Frerin." He ran his hand through Fili's hair feeling that accursed heat dying away. "But when we meet again you'll find I will have a different name."

"You'll be different?"

"Yes, but I'll love you still my little lad." He kissed Fili's head like a devoted mother. Such sweetness to it, such love and compassion.

He adjusted Fili and left the water taking him back to the house. The sad rain still drumming against the windows. Frerin took Fili back to his bed and laid him down. The youth kept his arms wrapped around Frerin's neck not wanting to let go. Frerin smiled and kissed Fili's head again earning an animalistic purr. He was already feeling better and this new person was a very good person. Like his very own mama.

Frerin pulled Fili's arms from around his neck, sitting on the bed. "I'll stay until you wake."

"But I am awake."

Frerin smiled again. He quickly changed the subject, "When Thorin wakes tell him I'm still with him, I'll be with all of you, forever."

His hand found its way over to Thorin's head, gently picking up some locks of hair. He parted two sections that he started to work an intricate fishtail braid. He started to hum a long lost melody that lulled Fili's eyes closed much too soon. "Remember to tell Thorin that I love him," was the last thing Fili heard.

When Fili awoke his fever had broke. Thorin's hands were on his face checking over and over again for any inkling of heat. He smiled at his son, relief washing over him. Fili's hand reached up and grabbed some of his hair and tugged at it.

"F-" he gave a small cough. "Frerin said, he said that he's still with you." Fili tugged on the braid again when his father's eyes only got wide. "He said he'll always be with us."

"F… Frerin… you met someone named Frerin in your dreams?" Thorin swallowed hard. He had never told Fili of his brother.

Fili nodded, for having just woken up he felt so tired. "He took care of me while you were resting."

Thorin didn't know what to say. In his core he felt the shivering fear of his son being so close to death that Frerin had been there. But looking at the braid that Fili clutched he felt his heart flutter with mixed emotions. Frerin used that particular braid as a message, a simple "everything will be okay" message. Fili was too young to braid just yet and…

Thorin just closed his eyes. He didn't know how, didn't truly want to know. Right then, he had his son on the mend and he had many prayers of thanks to offer his loving brother.

"He-he said he loves you." Fili coughed whining afterwards. He reached up, grabbing at Thorin for a hug. He really needed on considering he felt so icky and terrible.

Thorin hugged Fili tightly. He buried his face into Fili's shoulder. It took a while but he found his voice. "If you... if you dream of him again, tell him I love him as well."