On the morning of the third day Fíli woke slowly, his mind unwilling to leave his dreams behind. It had been good dream he mused, closing his eyes into the pillow as he sleepily trying to recall what it had been that made him wake with a smile. But attempting to remember the dream was like trying to cup water in his hands; each second it trickled through his fingers until he had to acknowledge that he was awake and his dream had ended.
Reluctantly Fili threw back the blankets and furs, standing slowly and stretching his stiff arms above his head as a yawn expanded in his chest.
Still in his loose nightshirt and pants, he wandered towards his window and threw it open, letting the sunlight hit him full in the face. Fili closed his eyes and drank it in, feeling the warmth spread across his face like a caress. It was a glorious day, the kind of …show more content…
He was still in his night clothes; hardly the image of Dwarven royalty.
Thranduil stood in the centre of the Dale Square before the King's residence, and the raven haired figure was thrown at his feet.
"Bring me the King." Thranduil commanded menacingly.
Fíli was about to charge forwards when the raven haired figure lifted his head. Intense relief flooded through him when he realised that it was not Kíli. The figure was a young boy. He had Kíli's unkempt hair but up close he was thinner and with a grime that coated his sallow skin. Then Fíli recognised the boy, he had seen him in the Reading Hall just yesterday; Aeron.
Someone in the crowd moved and Fíli guessed they had gone to fetch Bard. But despite the fact that it was not his brother shackled at the Elvenking’s feet, Fíli found that he could not move. There was a heart wrenching suffering in the young lad's lowered eyes that reached out to him, holding him in a trance.
Somebody pushed past his shoulder and he turned his head to see Sigrid striding into the