Author's note: Like in some previous chapters, anything written like this is Black Speech.

Enjoy the chapter!


The Blue Mountains were prone to violent storms during the wintertime, many a time it sounded to Fili as though the very hills were cracking. He remembered some twenty years ago when one storm in particular left Ered Luin in a dire state. It had ravaged the area for nine days. Trees fell, rivers burst their banks, houses were torn from their foundations, there were fires and floods and mudslides. On the last night, Fili felt the home he shared with his brother, mother and uncle shake until he was sure it was going to collapse about them. The walls had trembles, pots fell from the shelves and smashed and the glass in the windows cracked. And now, in Bard's house, feeling the building tremble and hearing it groan, Fili couldn't help but be reminded of that night. He wrapped a hand around the wooden bedpost as the bed shook. "What's happening?" He heard Bard's youngest daughter, Tilda, squeak, he looked across the room to see her grab onto her father's arm as her home began to violently tremor about her. Bard pulled her aside as a glass fell from a shelf, shattering at their feet. She squeaked again. Fili's heart jumped in his chest as the bed beneath him jolted. He heard another crash.

"Go." His brother said from beside him in a strained voice, "you have to go." He pitched forward with a groan, his arm wrapping around his head, hands tugging at his hair. Fili placed a hand on his back but, with one swift move, Kili batted it away. "Go." He said again. Fili was beginning to tremble now, this was it, this was the end. No! They were supposed to have time! They were supposed to find Gandalf! He was supposed to make it better! This couldn't be the end. They were supposed to have time!

"Kili." His voice cracked as he dropped off the bed an onto his knees, crouching before his brother. He reached forward and pulled Kili's arms away and cupped his face. His brother's skin was almost grey now and his eyes were darkening by the second, his brown irises were already nearing a deep black and shadows were creeping across the whites. Fili' heart stopped. He's coming. This is it. Kili looked so pained and so very, very afraid. Fili stroked Kili's cheek, 'it's alright' he mouthed. But what comfort could it provide? It wasn't alright, he knew it and Kili knew it. It was like pressing a hand over a gapping wound when you know the blood wouldn't stop, the wounded person was still going to die. And now, in the bitter Laketown night, everything that made Kili who he was, every part of him that Fili loved and treasured, the joy, the mischief, the recklessness, the untameable love for adventure and thrill, it was all about to be wiped away, replaced with cruelty and hatred and blood lust. Kili was the wounded person who was about to die, and Fili couldn't stop the bleed. There was nothing. Fili had never felt so useless. So hopeless. He stared at his brother, the person he was supposed to keep safe. He would give his life a thousand times over to save him. That was what he was supposed to do, wasn't it? I'll keep him safe, mother. No matter what, I'll protect him. He felt Kili grip his hand as he forced a smile at his older brother. The last shred of hope splintering on his dry lips.

"Run, please."

The house shook again, dust fell from the rafters in thick clouds, chairs tipped over and plates and bowls tumbled from the shelves and cupboards. Thorin moved from his spot on the bed and tentatively walked towards his nephews. He daren't say anything. He couldn't say anything, for words failed him. He knew what the shaking of this house meant, he knew what was coming. He could feel eyes on him. He turned to see that Dwalin had approached, he eyes uncertain and even afraid.

"Thorin?" He didn't get a reply from the exiled king, who remained stood stiffly in front of him. Kili cried out again, Fili, who had been crouched at his feet, had fallen back and onto the floor. Thorin swept forward to wrap an arm across his chest, he pulled the blonde away from his brother. He could feel his nephew's chest heaving with what Thorin was positive were silent sobs. Fili reached a hand out to his brother, and his brother reached one out to him. Their eyes were locked. Their last few moments were communicated in silence, in that language that no body else could understand. But Thorin could guess what was being said.

I love you.

I love you, too.

And then, with one ragged gasp for air, Kili's hand fell, his head collapsed down against his chest, face hidden behind a curtain of dark hair, and the house stilled. No more dust rained down and nothing fell from shelves. The house was as silent as ever, if not more so. No body moved, no body spoke. It suddenly felt much colder than it had been before, like the bitter chill Laketown's winter had crept indoors. Frost had glazed the glass in the windows and Thorin could even, faintly, make out his breath. Fili had fallen as still as a statue in his arms.

"What just happened?" He heard Bard say, "an earthquake?" The bargeman looked about for a response, but found none. All the dwarves were utterly silent. Tilda still clung to him, trembling slightly. She turned her head up toward him, big eyes scared.

"Kee?" Fili attempted to crawl forward but Thorin pulled him back.

"Don't" His uncle said into his ear. He sat still and the pair stared towards the still form of their youngest family member. They couldn't see his eyes. But what of his face they could make out through the strands of hair was grey-white. If it wasn't for the slow rising and falling of his chest, a person would think he was carved from stone. He was sat stiffly and in an unnatural silence, not even his breaths made a sound. The quiet was unbearable, it made the cold air tense. Thorin's breath fogged in front of him again.

"Will someone tell me what's going on?!" Bard shouted, pulling Tilda close to him. His elder children had also come to stand beside him. Thorin let go of Fili, who hadn't shifted an inch, and rose to his feet. Dwalin glanced uncertainly at him. They needed to leave, all of them, Bard and his family too.

"Bard …" He began, holding his hands up in front of him, "we have …" But his next word was interrupted with a huge smash, as two orcs crashed through one of the windows, and another burst through the door, knocking it from it's hinges. Tilda and Sigrid screamed as glass shattered across the floor. They ran to the other side of the room, Bain being dragged along by his elder sister. The dwarves all jumped to their feet. But the orcs did nothing, the two who had jumped through the kitchen window perched themselves on the counters, the other stared from the doorway with yellow eyes as the wind whistled in behind him. He grinned at the people inside the house, revealing rows of sharp, uneven teeth. Thorin clenched his fists, this was not a great time to be without weapons. From behind him, he heard Fili growl and only just managed to grab his nephew before he lunged at the intruders.

"Bastards." Fili spat, struggling in his arms. The anger coming from him was the only heat in the room. The hatred he held for these foul beasts was still white hot. He blamed the orcs for everything that he, that the company, had endured. Everything that his brother had and would still endure.

"Now, now," came a double layered voice, as cold as ice and as piercing as a sharp blade, "no need for such foul language, Fili." Fili and Thorin span simultaneously, to see Kili had risen to his feet. Except it wasn't Kili. And as he pushed his dark hair from his face, the Necromancer stared at them with those soulless black eyes. Dark abysses. He sniggered. He rolled his neck, the bones cracking, and pulled in a long, satisfied breath.

"Master." The orc in the doorway said, bowing his head. The other two copied his actions. The necromancer grinned. He shot them quick glances, and then looked back at Fili, whose face was pale and devastated. His eyes full of sorrow, you could see his heart shattering in those blue orbs, could see his world crumble. The Necromancer tilted his head to the side.

"Don't look at me like that. You knew this was going to happen, deep down you knew you wouldn't be able to stop me. Kili knew that." The sound of his brother's name on the Necromancer's lips made Fili's blood boil, he curled his fists and lunged forward with a growl. You could almost see the fire burning in his eyes. But he didn't even reach the Necromancer before he was lifted from his feet and thrown against a wall.

"Fili!" Thorin yelled. He went to dart forward but found himself unable to move. It was like his muscles had turned to rock. The Necromancer's arm was raised, his hand open towards the frozen king.

"I don't think so." He sneered. "You stay right there." He turned and walked towards Fili, still pinned against the wall, his boots some feet from the floor. The Necromancer sighed dramatically. "You can't beat me, boy. Your brother belongs to me." Fili tried to struggle, but just felt his back being pushed harder against the wooden wall. He could feel a pressure against his chest, it made his ribs ache and lungs burn. He glared at the Necromancer, at this beast wearing his brother's face. Except this wasn't his brother's face because this face was hard and cruel, with cold, ink black eyes. Inhuman. The kindness and joy which made Kili so beloved was gone. "But don't worry, I'll take good care of him … well, except for the fact I'm going to make his existence a misery." The Necromancer laughed. The orcs cackled from the other side of the room. He tapped the side of his head. "The things he will witness. He'll wish he was dead."

"I will … find a way … to stop you." Fili choked.

"Good luck." The Necromancer stepped away and Fili fell to the ground, gasping and pained. "Now, I have business to attend to." His black eyes flashed, "keep Erebor warm for me." He gave the blonde a cruel smile and turned away. "We return to Dol Guldur." He growled to the orcs. They nodded. The Necromancer walked noiselessly across the room, the heavy leather boots on his feet making no sound on the wooden floor. It was almost as if he was floating. The company stood stiffly as he passed and Bard stood protectively in front of his children who huddled behind him in fear. Thorin finally felt the ice that had frozen him to the spot melt and he rushed forward to help Fili to his feet. Behind them, Dwalin cursed in Khuzdûl, spitting the words out angrily. The Necromancer turned to look at him, black eyes piercing. But Dwalin, his posture rigid, didn't waver under his stare. The warrior's fists curled tightly at his sides, he made to storm forward, his blood hot with anger, but the Necromancer swiped his hand in one swift motion and the heavy wooden dining table flew across the room cutting off Dwalin's advance. The company leapt out of the way just before it hit the wall with a huge crash. The plates and food that had been on it littered the room, pottery smashed and left over tea and soup spilt on the floor. One of the table legs snapped in half, splintering. Tilda let out a scream, Sigrid pulled her closer.

"Should we kill them, master?" The yellow-eyed orc asked, looking about the room at the company. A jagged dagger glinted in his hand. His long fingers drummed eagerly on the wooden hilt.

"No, not yet." The Necromancer said. "Waiting is suffering in itself. Death will come to them and we shall relish in it." He sneered. And then, without another word, he left, the orcs following along behind him.

The house was silent the moment the Necromancer and his orcs vanished through the threshold. The coldness did not seem to leave with them as cold air gusted in through the smashed widow and broken doorway. The stillness of the place was erie. Everybody watched the doorway. Disbelief, shock, sorrow, fear. They could all be felt, swirling about the room like a leaf in a gale. Bard looked about him, at the shattered glass and pottery on the floor, the door which had been blown from its hinges, the overturned table with the broken leg. His home was a mess and his head was filled with confusion. What had happened? Why had the orcs come here? And what was wrong with the dwarf? He turned to stare at Thorin who, like the others was staring, open mouthed, towards the doorway. But before he could demand an explanation the blonde dwarf darted forward towards the door.

"Fili!" Thorin called after him, "come back!" But Fili was already out of the house. He didn't even hear his uncle call him name. He had but one thought, do something. He sprinted in what his instinct told him was the right direction, down the narrow Laketown streets. They were quiet now, and dark, everybody was shut in their homes ready for the night. Doors and windows firmly closed against the cold. Fili knew it was cold, his breath fogged up in front of him as he ran, but he couldn't feel it. He cold feel nothing but blind panic. And it kept him going forward. He darted passed house after house, past shops and boats tied up in the water. He ran across a bridge and into another winding street. He turned left and froze. The Necromancer and the three orcs were walking cooly in front of him, a cat hissed as they walked past and leapt into the shadows of a crooked house.

"Stop!" Fili yelled, his voice echoing off the wooden buildings around him. The Necromancer turned to look at him, the light of the moon dancing like a silver flame in his eyes. The orcs took their weapons and went to charge forward but their master held up a hand and they remained stood where they were.

"What are you doing here, dwarf?" The Necromancer asked, disinterestedly. He sounded bored. Fili opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. What was he doing there? What did he hope to achieve? He wanted to hope that there was something, one last chance to save his little brother. He couldn't fail him again. He couldn't break another promise. But stood there, a bitter wind blowing through his hair, staring into the soulless, dead eyes of the Necromancer, a little voice inside him screamed that there was nothing. That he wouldn't get Kili back this time. "You should just give up, Fili, just accept it. It's easier that way."

"I can't, I wont." Fili replied, shaking his head. Accept it? How could he accept it?

"What do you think you can do?" The only thing I can, Fili thought.

"Take me." He said. The Necromancer raised his brows. "Take me instead. Please, just let him go. Take me." Fili pleaded. "Please." The Necromancer scoffed and took a step forward.

"Take you? And why would I do that? I have broken his soul and weakened his body, I have worn him down until there is nothing left. Until he has nothing left. He has no strength to fight me. He is crippled and shattered. To take you would mean starting again and I do not want to go through the tedious process of destroying someone again. No, I have my vessel. And I will keep it." With one swipe of his hand, Fili was thrown sideways and landed with a thud. A pain shot through his body. He groaned. He shook his head, trying to shake away the fog that was in his skull. The Necromancer approached and knelt beside him. "Tell me, Fili, was your offering yourself to me in his place your attempt to redeem yourself, to wash away your mistakes? Your failures?" He leaned in close, so that their faces were mere inches apart. Fili tried to shift away, but found himself unable to move, as he felt the Necromancer's cold, black eyes burning into him. The Necromancer flashed a sadistic smile. "Face it." He said. "You failed to keep your brother safe from the orcs and now you've failed to keep him safe from me. This is the price of failure." He went to stand again, but paused. He placed a hand on Fili's shoulder. Fili could feel his cold palm through his borrowed tunic. "But, if its any consolation, that plan of yours, to find the wizard was never going to work." Fili frowned. "Because I have him too, locked away where he can't be a nuisance. When I haven't been … paying Kili a visit, I've been making sure he stays put." He grinned again, patted Fili's shoulder and rose to his feet. He walked away. "I will see you again very soon, Fili." He said over his shoulder.

Fili groaned, his body aching. But that ache was dulled by the one he felt in his heart. He could almost feel the shards of it rattling about in his chest.

Darkness began creeping in from the sides of his vision. The last thing he saw was his brother's stolen body walking away into the darkness.


-AN-

Another chapter for you lovely people! A bit later than I would have liked but here it is anyway, I hope you enjoy. Poor Fili, I just wanna hug him and tell him it's not his fault!

Happy New Year, by the way. I hope you all had a great Christmas!

Did anyone watch And Then There Were None over the holidays? Aidan was absolutely fantastic as Philip Lombard, it was really interesting to see him play a character like that!

If you enjoyed this chapter, please let me know. Your feedback is always wonderful to receive!