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The blackness was pierced with a sliver of light. Then another. Soon, the light was overwhelming and it rattled the pained corners of his mind, forcing him to leave his blissful state of unawareness and wake up. It felt like an immense task, and it hurt. But there was something, some deep need that slowly became more urgent than the instinct to stay unconscious. It whispered to him at first, then demanded, then screamed.
Fili opened his eyes.
The light was blinding at first, but slowly it settled and his mind was telling him that there was a figure hovering in front of him. No, actually, above him – his sense of balance was waking up and it told him he was lying on his back. With that realization, the sounds returned as well, and they were little more than a chaotic mess to him for the first moments. He scrunched his eyes shut again for a second, to stop the dizzying feeling. When he opened them once more, he found he could focus on the face above him. It didn’t seem familiar at all. Well, now that he thought about it, he could tell that it was the face of an Elf. A red-headed one, and that irritated him for a moment though he didn’t know why, but this was definitely an unknown person to him.
The Elf said something. “…hear me? Are you awake, Master Dwarf?” Fili didn’t know what to answer to that. Was he expected to answer?
Then, another voice and face. Clearer. Familiar. “He’s a Prince actually, and the heir to the throne of Durin, and I’m sure he would appreciate it if you addressed him as such. Thank you Fendil, I’ll take it from here, shall I? Go check on the others, please?” This face was much closer to him than the Elf’s had been. Blue eyes. Soft features. Curly hair. Bilbo, his mind said. It made him happy. He tried to curve his lips into a smile, but every muscle in his body protested even a little movement.
Bilbo must have caught his intention, though, because he smiled back, a bit watery perhaps but smiled all the same. “Good morning, Fili. Glad to see you awake. I’m – I’m afraid you have sustained some rather bad injuries, but Lord Thranduil’s finest healers and Gandalf have been doing their very best, and they’ve assured me that they will get you back to your feet eventually. For now, you shouldn’t try to move.”
Fili’s mind was still working slow, taking ages to process every bit of information, but with more familiar names mentioned, he was reminded of the screaming voice that he had forgotten for a moment while getting accustomed to being awake. His heart started pounding painfully hard and he opened his mouth, struggling to call aloud the single word that the voice was repeating inside his head.
“Kili.” It was barely even a whisper, but Bilbo seemed to catch it, and to Fili’s gigantic relief, he smiled reassuringly.
“He’s alive. He’s lying on the bed beside you – no, don’t try to turn your head, please, your neck is injured – and he’s in a little bit worse shape than you, he hasn’t woken up yet, but I’m sure he will push through. Stubborn, you Dwarves.”
Fili couldn’t indeed turn his head without feeling a pain so intense it almost knocked him out again, so he settled for staring at Bilbo demandingly, hoping for further explanation. Thankfully, the Hobbit delivered; recounting how, after the brothers had managed to slay Azog, Bolg had gotten them. First piercing Fili with his arrow a short distance away, then lurking behind the frantic Kili and putting his sword through the Dwarf’s abdomen. The memory made Fili’s eyes sting with tears.
Thorin, Bilbo explained, had gone after Bolg, and the brothers had fallen down, getting rather trampled in the midst of the battle. Dwalin had found them after the Goblins had been overpowered and thought it had been too late already, seeing the two young warriors pale and apparently lifeless in each other’s arms. But there had been a faint beat of life in them yet, and Dwalin had roared for help. They had been carried into the healing tent, which was where they still rested, the healers deciding it unsafe to move them. Four days had passed since the battle.
“Thorin was badly wounded as well, and fell unconscious after he had chopped Bolg’s head off. He woke up two days ago. He has been immensely worried about the two of you, it’s impossible to keep him in his own – oh. Well, speak of the wolf…” Bilbo’s expression took a turn to a disapproving one, as a dark-maned Dwarf with a bandage-covered abdomen and a heavy limp appeared into the tent and to Fili’s side. “Fendil told you he’s awake, didn’t he? Thorin, I keep telling you, you need to rest.”
Thorin ignored him entirely. “Fili,” he said with a raspy voice. “You’re awake. Thank Mahal. I’m so sorry.” He took Fili’s hand gently between his own hands and his eyes glistened as he kneeled beside Fili’s bed. “You will heal. Kili too. Everything will be alright.” He looked up at the Hobbit. “Bilbo. Could you leave us for a moment? Go tell Balin that he’s woken up, but no one else is to come see him yet, not until he’s gotten more of his strength back.” Bilbo glared at the King very pointedly for a moment, until Thorin let out an exasperated sigh. “And I promise I will stay for no more than five minutes and then return to my bed. I swear, you are worse than all the healers and Gandalf combined.”
Bilbo seemed content with that all the same, and left the tent with a self-satisfied smirk. When he was gone, Thorin rose from the ground with some difficulties and sat gingerly on the edge of Fili’s bed. “When I woke up, I was certain that I had lost you both. It was only a matter of a few hours that I didn’t. And if you had died, it would have been my fault. I would never have forgiven myself. I thought they were lying when they said you were alive, and would not believe it until I was brought here to see for myself.”
He sighed deeply. “The night before the battle, I told you and Kili that I would give my blessing to your relationship. I wish to do that now more than ever; having come so close to losing what’s most important has given me the clarity to see what I did not before. I know how dearly you love each other, and your happiness matters the most.” He smiled that tender smile of his as he looked over to where Kili slept. “But first, we all have to get our strength back. Kili is still asleep, but his fever has broken, they tell me. I think he shall awake soon as well.”
Fili made a pleading sound at that and reached his hand to Kili’s direction, only very briefly before his strength ran out. Thorin seemed to understand and nodded before getting up again. From the haze of sleep that was threathening to take him again, Fili heard his uncle barking orders to people he couldn’t see – healers, he presumed, and closed his eyes. Next, he felt his bed being raised and carried a short distance, aligning it with another one. Then, rough fingers he recognized well lifted his hand gently and guided it to another hand that was now right by his side. The other hand was unresponsive because its owner wasn’t awake, but Fili curled his fingers softly around it and fell into a much more pleasant sleep than before.
When he woke up next, it was to the feeling of his hand being squeezed and warm fingers entwining with his own.