Disclaimer-I don't own any of this, I am just playing and will return everyone and everything when I'm done.

I am using this website to calculate dwarven ages. . So Fíli at the time of this story would be 10 years old in human years.

It was a dark, frigid, moonless night at the end of January, one of those nights where one just wanted to curl up next to the fire with a hot cup of tea. It was certainly no place for a 20-year-old dwarfling to be wandering around, especially not in the forest of Mirkwood.

The dwarfling was covered in mud, which was caked on his long curly locks. He appeared to have blonde hair once, but now it was black, as dark as the night. His normally sky blue eyes appeared dim and old. They did not look like they belonged to a dwarfling whose beard was just starting to make an appearance. His clothes, dirty and ripped in various places looked like they were regal once, but now were clothes for a pauper. The warm fur jacket he was wearing looked like it had seen better days.

The dwarfling coughed, as more tears threatened to fall. He thought he had no more tears to cry but just the mere thought of being lost on an unfamiliar path in Mirkwood made more tears fall. He had wandering alone for three days now, surviving on whatever plants he could find on the paths, and water from the almost constant snow that had finally subsided what felt like minutes ago. In reality it has stopped 5 hours ago, but Fíli, the dwarfling did not know that, so wet and miserable was he.

Just when Fíli thought he could not get any worse for the wear, he tripped over something and found himself meeting the muddy ground yet again. That was the third time since he ran away from home he found himself face down on the ground. It was almost like the ground wanted him to cuddle with it. He lay on the ground crying in darkness of night, letting tears of pain both mental and physical carry him to the world of haunting dreams…

"Fíli!" A young voice shouted.

"Kíli, don't come closer!" Fíli yelled back, looking around at an unfamiliar room.

The sound o footsteps came closer to him, as all of the sudden the room got bigger and bigger. Fíli looked around; where was he? He did not have time to think, as Kíli entered the room that was growing by the second.

The next thing Fíli knew, the floor opened up beneath his brother, and he disappeared.

"KEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" he screamed.

Fíli shot up off the ground with a scream. 'Just a dream', he thought to himself as he opened up his eyes to the dawn of a new wet and morbid day.

Fíli sniffled as he tried to breathe out of his nose, as more tears threatened to fall. Thoughts were running through his mind, causing him to get a headache. Fíli raised his hand up to his forehead to try to relieve the pressure, just as cousin Oín told him to do one time. All he knew, was that he had to keep moving. Mirkwood was not exactly the safest place to be in Middle Earth, and he knew he was not wanted back in Erebor. Fíli knew he could never return to Erebor, third in line for the throne or not. Especially not after what he did, not after what was said to him. Fíli stood up and continued his journey, stopping twice, to pick some berries that he found underneath fallen snow, and to take a sip of water that had collected in a giant leaf. He smiled for the first time in five days, when he finally saw the edge of Mirkwood and what he considered freedom.

Meanwhile, back in Erebor, there was a lot of commotion coming from the royal chambers. It had been five days since what is now being called 'the accident', which left young Prince Kíli in a coma, and Prince Fíli missing. Servants, extended family members, and members of the court were running around everywhere, many it seemed had no destination in mind. One royal, Princess Dís, the mother of Fíli and Kíli had not left her youngest's side since her brother Frérin brought Kíli to her in this state five days ago. She currently sat in a chair holding her youngest son's hand as the door silently opened to let in the elderly royal healer, Narvi to change the bandages that currently crisscrossed Kíli's body and head.

There was a heavy aura in the room, stifling almost, a difficult situation for a healer to work in. It was quiet, almost too quiet, the princess was not even crying anymore for her two sons, one injured and the other one only Mahal knew where he was. Narvi had to break the silence in the room; it was not healthy for the princess, and could result in him and the rest of the healers in the Mountain having another royal to treat.

"Milady," Narvi said, softly as not to startle the princess, "has there been any news about Prince Fíli? Has anyone seen him?"

Dís could only shake her head no. Her father Thráin, her brothers Thórin and Frérin, her husband Víli, as well as a small contingent of royal guards were all out of the Mountain searching for any trace of her son. However, so far all of the ravens coming back from them have been negative. It had been five long days since she last saw her golden haired son. It was too long, Fíli was too young to be out there on his own for so long. She sighed. There was nothing she could do for her eldest at the present; she could only focus on her youngest. Somehow she gathered strength she did not know she could muster to meet Narvi's eyes with such sorrow, she was certain her heart would be breaking soon.

Narvi grinned and grabbed Dís's hand away from her son. "If you need anything or anything changes, let me know." Narvi gently placed Dís's hand on her son's arm and left the room as soundlessly as he came in.

As soon as the door closed, Dís grabbed her son's hand again. "Kíli, mama's here, please wake up," she said softly while trying to hold back tears. "Kíli, please."

Dís's eyes felt wet as she lost all control. She wept as she was beginning to lose hope. All she wanted was Kíli to wake up and Fíli to be safe in her arms once again. It was hopeless, what she would not do to have Víli next to her right now. Dís reached a low point she was unaware of as she fell onto her son's bed all but landing on the still dwarfling. She was oblivious to the door opening up again to allow someone into the room. She had no idea that her grandfather, King Thrór had walked in to cover her with a blanket, and did not leave. There was nothing to be said, nothing that could be said, nothing that could be done, but wait and pray to any god that may hear their prayer.

If you havent done so, go back and reread this fic. I have an amazing beta reader now, paytonrich!