Confessions ~ Fili

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The world is bathed in fire

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The world is bathed in fire. Captured in it, tormented, broken down by it. It is the dragon. He is here. The dragon sees all, feels all, ceases all. He will not rest until this town is nothing but ashes floating on the cold lake. The unforgiving chill of the air from just yesterday is now just a memory, as the blistering heat all around you cracks your skin and dries out your eyes. The noise of celebration from the night before has long since given way to screams of terror and pain. For many of those fleeing the destruction, this is the end of the only home they have known, the final act of a tragedy long-since boiling in the rivers of gold within the Lonely Mountain beyond.

Erebor can no longer be seen from the waterways between the narrow, crooked houses of Laketown. Even its greatness is shrouded by the smoke and flames surrounding you. Your hands are sweaty, but you dare not remove your gloves, fearing you will burn your skin too easily. Behind you sits Bofur, Oin, and the three children of Bard the Bowman. Their father is nowhere to be seen, so the elf who saved Kili's and your lives determined to take them with you at the first sight of the dragon. Speaking of Kili, he is close to the elf, and you can quickly guess that if he were not focused on watching out for debris and fire that he would be holding her hand. The elf herself is poised at the prow of the little boat, steering you all toward the nearest exit to open water.

And Fili? He is right next to you, holding tight to your arm. It is still sore, but thanks to the elf's incredibly healing abilities, your wound has closed and is no longer a terrible pain. Your opposite hand rests on the hilt of your sword, for you have seen devastation like this before and know the violence that can arise in people out of desperation. You are not able to recall the feeling of a smile on your lips, the hug of your grandfather Balin, the touch of a summer breeze. The warmth of the fireplace last night as you fell asleep, curled up against Fili for the second time in two days, granted you a feeling of peace; now, these flames conjure up the contrast: fear.

You have thought about death enough to know you do not want to perish here. On a battlefield, or surrounded by your friends and family at an old age, those are the only ways you would be glad to die. Smoke from a particularly ravaged building has begun to sink in the air, down towards the waterway it sits next to, and as you head into the thick of it, you turn, warning everyone on the boat, especially the children, to cover their mouths with their shirts or other cloth. Fili has not let go of your arm. He provides you some small semblance of stability in this overwhelming chaos. You bite your lip as you look at him for just a moment, and even with a handkerchief over half his face, he is still the most attractive person you've known.

The elf- you don't remember her ever telling you her name, perhaps Kili will introduce you two if you ever make it out of here -turns the boat around a corner and you can see open water for just a moment. That is, until a barge, overflowing with gold and treasure, cuts off the path. Your expression turns from tense, poorly-disguised fear to outright disgust and anger as you lock eyes with the Master of Laketown, clutching a chest in his arms as he shouts hoarsely for the rowers to go faster.

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