Fathers and Sons

Chapter 14

Note: Trigger warning for illness

Days passed and the world seemed to melt away for Thorin and Kili. Bilbo had offered up one of his spare rooms to Fili, so that he would be more comfortable, but his condition continued to deteriorate. The little hobbit helped in whatever way he could, clearly sympathetic to the plight of the three dwarves that had suddenly appeared in his home.

Kili had been moved to a second room, against his will of course, so that he could recover his own strength. Thorin had been forced to put sleeping draught into his drinks in order to get him to lay down, as distraught as he was over his brother's condition. Thorin insisted on neglecting his own health until Azalea threatened to sedate him. So he and Kili took turns watching over Fili.

Over the next few days, Kili and Thorin had both improved. The hobbit's home was kept cool during the heat of the day and the pantry was well stocked. At first, neither of them were able to keep down much more than porridge, but slowly, they were able to take in more sustenance.

But their spirits remained in constant turmoil. Fili did not improve. He suffered as his fever was constant and he could keep very little down. Aches and pains plagued him and that sickly yellowish tint continued on. Azalea and Asphodel had been over constantly, administering herbal remedies and trying to keep the poor dwarf alive. It just didn't seem like enough and even Thorin was beginning to realize the inevitable.

On the fifth night, Thorin could do nothing as he watched yet another seizure wrack through his eldest nephew's body. Fili shook and seized and his fever rose higher and higher. Thorin had never felt so helpless in all of his life. The stoic king was at the end of his rope. He was exhausted and he knew Fili was exhausted as well. He just wanted it to be over for him.

After the seizure passed, he had knelt down beside his nephew's now still body and still felt the fever radiating off of him. At this moment, Thorin could no longer hold back his tears. Fili was now too weak to take more than very shallow breaths and he became so ghostly pale, Thorin was sure he was on his final breaths.

Thorin had held the limp hand in his and wept. He had known loss and grief before. He had lost his kingdom and his treasure. His grandfather and his father. His own brother. And so many dear friends. And in the past few weeks, he had lost his home in exile and his beloved sister. His closest friends had parted from him in search of a new life. His people were scattered and homeless once again. The peace and security that he had worked so hard to achieve in the Blue Mountains had been shattered.

All of that loss was hard to bear. But he carried all that loss as best as he could. He could suffer through what he had to in order to care for his people. But losing his nephews wasn't something he could have been prepared for. They had been the only thing that kept him going after losing Erebor and now, after this latest orc attack, they were all he had left in this life. The despair he felt as he watched Fili's life drain away was simply too much for the old dwarf king to handle. So, he wept. He wept until he couldn't anymore.

As dawn broke the following morning, Thorin lifted his weary head and gazed sadly at the seemingly lifeless form before him. He could see no movement whatsoever. He couldn't even see his nephew's chest rise. He swallowed hard and prepared himself as he reached forward to put a hand on his forehead. It was cool.

"Oh no..." he breathed as he moved forward and put his ear to Fili's chest. He knew this was going to happen, he expected it at this point. But he still felt his breath hitch in his throat and felt the cold dread of fear as he tried to make out any signs of life.

There! Thorin felt a small smile spread across his face as he felt Fili inhale a breath and then slowly let it out. And he heard the faint thump of his nephew's beating heart. He was alive.